Haven in the Hood

Devine intent(her)

2011-12-28T17:54:00.002-06:00

“That was our first car accident as a family huh.”
”And prayerfully our last.”

Christmas is always an emotional time for me. I hope and pray for family relationships and while I have wonderful in-laws… it just isn’t the same. Spending Christmas with (his) family is nice, but… we all have mom-in-laws… and we know how much they love their boys. On the last day of our trip I broke down and admitted to (him) that although I knew they loved me… I just didn’t “feel” like I fit in. I had been wondering what my family was doing and feeling sorry that I didn’t fit in there either. I felt like I couldn’t do anything right (and happened to have ruined the eggs for breakfast that morning).

Tearfully we finished packing up the car and began our two and a half hour trip home.

We stopped in Davenport for some family fun at Michel’s fun World and not ten minutes back on the highway we found our selves skidding across the road and headed straight for the ditch. I was scared. I looked back and kids were screaming and Brice reached his hands toward me and just kept repeating the words “I love you”, “I love you”. For a moment I remember thinking that we weren’t all going to make it out of this… and then I saw the pole.

In the next moment I knew that the pole would stop us, and that’s all I remember.

I think I was in shock. I don’t remember hitting the pole, or hearing the window shatter or coming to a stop. I felt peaceful though and wasn’t frantic at all. In a way, I knew that everyone was alright. At some point while we sat there in the cold waiting for a tow truck, or the police, or whatever was going on I thought about what (he) said to me earlier that morning when I felt like I didn’t fit in. (He) told me that God has me right where I am supposed to be, and that that is exactly where I fit in.

I have never believed that more.

In just a moment it could all be gone. Our car, our stuff… our children… my husband. I could be gone. But He saved us. We don’t know the extent of the damage yet, but there is a chance our car might be totaled (we will get a final estimate tomorrow). To think about how we flipped around, slid sideways across the interstate, smacked into a pole in the ditch and managed to come to a stop with out rolling and without a scratch or a bruise on any of us… He has us right where he wants us.

I know that I will remember those moments as we slid across the interstate for a very long time. And when I do I will hear those words “I love you” and my heart will know that I am right where God wants me. When I feel like I don’t fit in… when life seems to be spinning out of control… I can remember that I was never really in control anyway… that He says when the car stops… that He saved us that day… and that I am right where His hands have placed me.

The rest of that day was crazy. But God was with us. A man from our neighborhood right here in CR stopped along the highway to help… and that was kind of neat, in a lot of ways. We spent a few hours at a Denny’s waiting for the car to be towed and to be picked up by the rental car company and one of the cooks took care of our bill. And when Stephen called to arrange for the rental car the lady started to tell him that they were going to have to take two trips to get us all there because they didn’t have a vehicle that would fit the seven of us, a driver and our dog… when a Yukon pulled up. And it doesn’t seem like a big thing, but it was nice to ride together and not have to split up after the day we’d had. And then, the guy at the tow yard was super nice and believe it or not everything (five day’s worth of luggage plus all of our Christmas gifts and the dog) fit into our rental (which ended up being a stow-in-go, and those compartments sure can hold a lot).

I don’t think there is any way to really communicate this whole experience. There just aren’t any words to explain what went on in the moments of the accident or to describe what He showed me throughout the rest of the day. The only summary I can give is to repeat what Stephen had said to me… I am right where I am supposed to be.

Nope, I don’t smoke, I guess I look tired and can you pick up your trash please…(her)

2011-11-25T14:04:00.002-06:00

So, I was walking a friend out and watched a guy toss his McDonald’s bag out of his car window. And then he pulled over across the street and started walking toward our neighbors place. And I started walking toward him…

“Do you want me to pick that up for you?” I asked.
”Oh, I’ll get that.”

I introduced myself and shook his hand. And as he shook mine back he leaned in a little closer and asked me if I smoke.

”No, I don’t smoke.”
”Well, are you tired?”
”No, maybe…” I didn’t quite know what to say at that moment.

I went inside to powder my face and freshen my makeup before I left for a session… because apparently… I looked tired… or worse.

(And yes, he did pick up his trash.)

I don’t think I’m insane…(her)

2011-11-17T09:38:00.002-06:00

Now, just yesterday some gals were questioning my sanity because we have five children. And while I am up for another, and while I’d bring home tens of orphans if I could… I do draw the line somewhere. I may not be exactly sure where that is, but it probably lies somewhere between my fatigue, (his) sanity and the day that Steph leaves us.

(I’m on Pandora listening to a crazy awesome station right now… Regina Spektor. Might need to go buy a Mirah CD today).

Anyway… A full house is beautiful (and yes, noisy) thing. Some of my favorite moments in life are hide-n-seek and dance parties in the living room. I can’t even imagine having a flock of teenagers; do you think they will still let me chase them around the house with kisses?

Nothing profound today (not that much that I write is), just thinking out loud… or on paper… or on the keyboard I suppose. Guess I just needed to rationalize my sanity, cause I typically get the same response when people ask how many children we have. Oh well, I’m in love with them all.

For what it’s worth(her)

2011-11-11T11:12:00.003-06:00

Although it wasn’t ever really communicated why, I speculate that they moved out because while it was good… it wasn’t always easy to live here in our haven. We in the Lloyd house agree that it was a good experience to have had them living here. But, as we all know, God does not promise that everything will always be easy.

Last week I was studying through Moses and his relationship with the Lord and with the Israelites and I couldn’t help but to parallel the story with this situation. I thought about God’s anger when He and Moses were on the Mount and His people were worshiping a golden cow below. For a greater part of my adult life I have struggled with anger and I often have strived to just not be angry (failed just about every time). I had to apologize to our house guests for that because it wasn’t until fairly recently that it really sunk into my heart that anger itself isn’t wrong. And the more I tried to not be upset about anything, the more I feel like I felt angry. I had forgotten that we are made in His image and made to feel emotion and made for a longing of righteousness and justice. After Moses plead with God to reconsider “letting his anger burn against the Israelites and wanting to destroy them all” God with all His grace and mercy and love “relented and did not bring disaster against them”. The way I responded to situations and circumstances when they first moved in was definitely not out of grace, mercy or love. I either pushed things aside (so not to be angry) or totally just responded out of my anger and that was not healthy or respectful.

With tear filled eyes I confessed to my husband that I felt like a failure. But that wonderful man responded with encouragement and told me that he had seen growth in me and the way I handle conflict and in my response to difficult or upsetting circumstances.

And I agree. The last couple weeks that they were here it was so much easier for me to let go and not to feel like I needed justice. And even to not feel offended. I am seeing fruit in my marriage as well. Just yesterday morning, what in the past might have kept me from talking to that man all day, drew me to prayer and I sent my hubby off to work with a kiss.

Moses was also a man of steadfastness and commitment. And I thought a lot about how while the Israelites wavered, moaned to go back, worshiped idols etc., he remained with them; remained in community.

We live in a fallen world where only through the blood of Christ can we come close to experiencing true love and forgiveness and grace and mercy and all of the things our hearts desire and long for. To be fully known by each other can be scary when it comes down to the reality of really fleshing that out and to live in community can prove to be more challenging than we might anticipate because it isn’t always easy to let our guards down, to intentionally create opportunity to really get to know one another and to allow our shortcomings to be visible amongst others.

A friend asked me the other day if I would do it again. Yes. No matter how messy. We are meant for community. We are meant to sharpen one another and to really enjoy the fullness of relationship. If we were not willing to do it again, we might miss out on growth, relationship, joy and freedom.

I’m not pregnant(her)

2011-11-01T00:10:00.008-05:00

I’ve never really had any trouble getting pregnant. In fact, with our last baby, one week we were trying and the next we decided that we didn’t actually want to be trying, but by then it was too late and number five was on the way. I thought for sure it would be like it always has been; that we’d get pregnant immediately.

I’ve been hoping for three months now. Finally, last week I though that I was pregnant and when I saw that faint blue line on that little pink stick my heart about leapt out of my chest.

I showed the stick to Steph, I shared the news with a couple of my closest girlfriends and I began to dream about a precious new addition…

Maybe the stick was lying and I was never actually pregnant. Either way, my heart felt broken.

Maybe it’s my fault. I started to feel guilty; I shouldn’t have had that glass of wine a few nights ago, I shouldn’t have yelled so much at the kids the other day, I shouldn’t have judged that mom who I speculated can’t handle having another child. And then my guilt turned to shame, and my shame into anger and my shoulders weighed heavy with thoughts of myself and for an entire day I wallowed in a small party of pity.

I decided to let it go. I decided to take the focus off of me and to trust the one who is in control…

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

I still desire another rugrat (it’s OK if you think I’m crazy), but I am seeing more clearly now that His timing is perfect… it always has been.

If you have heard my testimony, you know that a couple of my babies were born outside of marriage and that a couple of them weren’t exactly planned for. I think that it is a little bit ironic that it took not being able to get pregnant when I wanted for me to more deeply understand that God hasn’t just allowed me to be pregnant, but that He planned for it. In His perfect timing He created life. Apart from Him, I can not conceive life… and that is beautiful, and if it is not the time for me to bear a child, and if my womb never carries another, there is something freeing, relieving and kind of peaceful in trusting His plan, because it really isn’t about me.

Make a change(her)

2011-09-17T10:17:00.004-05:00

It was interesting to say the least. I really wanted to speak up, but since it was my first time attending the neighborhood association meeting, I decided that it was probably best to just listen and take it all in…

Things need to change, is what everyone said about our neighborhood. And I agree. Though I have a difference in opinion when it comes to discussing a solution. Over and over they emphasized calling the police. “Even if you see a group of teenagers hanging around and they look like they could get into trouble, you can just call the police you know.”
The philosophy was “let’s get rid of them all”. Send them to jail, get them out of the neighborhood, enforce a change on landlords and get “good people” to move in.

Well where will these PEOPLE go? Really, send them where? How about uniting the neighborhood? How about it’s not us against them. How about addressing people and lending a hand instead of giving the boot. How about loving thy neighbor. How about getting to know the teenagers that hang out in front of your house, maybe even offer them a cookie. What about relationship? What if “we” respected “them” first. How about instead of getting rid of of our neighbors one at a time we got to know them, we loved them, we welcomed them… maybe then we wouldn’t need to be so afraid.

It’s been too long(her)

2011-09-09T13:34:00.005-05:00

It was a cold and windy day that April - despite my plans for a spectacular birthday celebration at the park. Trent, whose first birthday we were celebrating, was keeping warm in the car along with several other little ones because it was absolutely dreadful outside. I can’t tell you how thankful I was when one of our friends invited us to move the party to their house.

Seven years later, we got to repay the favor. Last weekend the same friends were in town and had a BBQ planned at the park, but God had plans for rain. As we prepared our home for company I was reminded of Trent’s birthday party and reminisced over our seven years of friendship…

It’s crazy how quickly time can seem to pass by and how quickly kids seem to grow up. The second grade seven year old girl that I met seven years ago is now quite possibly as tall or taller than I am and in high school. A lot has happened in the past seven years. And a lot has changed. Some have moved on to plant churches, jobs have carried others away (and back again). Our once group of single friends are nearly all married and many are now mommy’s and daddy's. It was so wonderful to reunite with many old friends at the BBQ, but also a tiny bit sad. It’s the way life goes… change. But it sure is crazy when you you realize all at once just how long it’s been and just how much has changed.

I am really not great at keeping up on FB. In fact, I’m often told information about some of my dearest friends because someone else read it online. I’d rather pop over to your house with a plate of cookies, and feel free to do the same to me (I’m a sucker for monster cookies). But, life is so full and so busy these days. We are all here and there and have to schedule our play dates two weeks out, and I don’t have time to pop over anywhere and before you know it it’s been seven years, we’ve missed the last two and now you’ve moved out of state. Maybe I should get on FB more often. And maybe we should all just slow down a little bit too. For many of us… we are all going to the same place, and much of this busyness isn’t going to matter when we get there. I think a couple we know just started a new thing where they call a friend each week, on the phone (texting doesn’t count). Not for any reason, no agenda, just to talk and catch up. My friend of seven years who had the BBQ… we used to do that. Several years ago. I think I should start the same resolution.

Look who’s 3

2011-09-08T10:21:00.001-05:00

Three years ago I gave birth to a beautiful blue eyed baby girl… and it’s been giggles of fun ever since (all day). Happy birthday Moo Moo.

Misplaced Identity(her)

2011-09-03T09:01:00.002-05:00

If you want to be challenged in the areas of patience and grace… Have another family move in with you. After about two and a half months, we are finally getting into a good routine, learning to better understand one another and becoming friends. The first few weeks however…

I am quite blessed, but it isn’t always easy to manage a home of seven; Eleven quite nearly sent me over the deep end. Don’t bring your white gloves over, but I think our home is fairly clean. What maybe is not always realized is that it takes work and intentionality to keep things neat and tidy around here. The cupboards stay white because I wipe off little fingerprints and splattered tomato sauce. The floors stay clean because we don’t wear shoes in the house and the kids keep food and drink in the kitchen and dining room. I scrub the bathrooms once a week, launder the towels, curtains and blankets as needed and toys all have a place (and that place isn’t on the living room floor). We use colors and play dough on the counter or table and I wash dishes after every meal.

When our household grew I expected everyone to take the same approach to cleaning and pretty much became a grumpy scrooge when my expectations were not met. Picking up dishes out of the living room, toys off of the floor and washing that much more in the kitchen did not come with patience and grace for me.

Additionally, the financial stress of such a large household was also getting to me. It took weeks to iron out our shopping arrangements and (him) and I were averaging $250 every Monday on groceries, which was killing us. For a while there, come mid week we were completely tapped out and I had little patience for the financial decisions that others were making.

As I sat talking and praying with a wise friend about my frustrations I realized that it had a lot more to do with me than anyone else. My words and attitude were far from graceful, and the more I thought and prayed about it I realized just how much my identity was wrapped up in an outward appearance (a struggle not unfamiliar to me). I do long to take care of the things that the Lord has blessed us with; to be good stewards of our time, talents, money and possessions… but I also want for anyone who comes into my home to see that it’s clean and that I am a worthy housewife. Having to decline and invitation because we are strict to our budget is OK, but having to decline because we literally don’t have a dollar to spend was embarrassing. When the finances or tidiness of the house is out of my control it feels like an attack on my worth… and that is simply a lie that I am working to overcome. Had I known God was going to use this as an opportunity to draw out my lack of patience and grace, I’m not sure I would have agreed to our current arrangements, though, I am thankful that He is great and cares enough to reveal my sin, challenge the source of my identity and lead me closer to Him.

Porch Parties

2011-09-02T14:25:00.001-05:00

Gosh, it has been forever since my last post. Not for lack of things to write about though; it has certainly been an eventful summer. My intentions are to publish a few posts about the changes, excitements, drama and tragedies of the summer, but first…

Whenever something exciting is going on outside we congregate on the front porch in hope of a glimpse of something thrilling. Sometimes it’s the sound of a pop or a loud bang (in which case we often head back into the house in an almost disappointment once we realize someone is STILL shooting off fireworks). Other times it’s flashing lights and sirens that draw us out of the haven. Last week it was the ranting and raving of our newest neighbor who had just walked back from 16th Street to find her door busted in and her 42 inch flat screen TV stolen. And yesterday, it was the intrigue of police officers dusting a car right out front across the street. The car was reported stolen and had apparently been abandoned there a few days ago. Yes, it’s pretty silly, but it does give us something to chat with the neighbors about, and, it’s kind of exciting to be able to watch our own personal and in-person episodes of Cops.

Eleven and counting…(her)

2011-07-18T10:46:00.002-05:00

It wasn’t an easy task; moving everything out of the basement. We carried up all kinds of furniture and all my craft stuff and books off of shelves and just everything that was down there so that we could create space for the new family. We combined the boys back into one room, Steph moved upstairs and the office is now a hodge podge of a place… but it works. We have AC on the third floor and gates at the top of two of the stair wells and I think that two families plus the nanny are fitting quite nicely here in our haven.

There will surely be some adjusting to. Cooking for and cleaning after an additional three with a baby (not mine) on the way will certainly take a bit of getting used to, but I think I’m up for it. They are a younger family, dad is in school and working at Hy-Vee and mom stays home with their 16 month old. It’s a different situation than we have had in the past with people moving in, and I know that communication is going to be the key. As soon as everyone settles in a bit I think we’ll have a haven meeting and make sure to work out schedules for cooking, showers and laundry etc.

Fill my cup too

2011-06-27T09:54:00.002-05:00

Of course we get into a fight…

I just got home from a place where babies lie alone in their cribs for hours (they have flat spots on the back of their heads and can’t do half of the things that a typical baby of the same age ought to be able to do), a place where children really do go to bed hungry and night after lonely night cry themselves to sleep. It took all I had to hold it together, because even at the best of the orphanages there were children… each of them without a family and most with heart breaking stories.

It was challenging in Ecuador and I spent many evenings praying for relationships amongst our group. I’m pretty sure that everyone experienced frustration with one another at several points throughout the week, which although is to be expected, isn’t always easy to respond well to when your miles away from home and family and one after another your visiting orphanages filled with despair. Stress was elevated.

Throughout the week I reminded myself of something someone once told me… I can choose not be offended. It’s hard for me, but I did my best to remind myself that people don’t mean harm. Although there were tense moments, our relationships survived.

I think it was in part that I tried all week to hold things together… when I got home I failed to react with the same grace and it all crashed to pieces. I think it was also in part that I had seen so much brokenness this last week and was angry and ashamed to see it in my own home as well. The reality of it though is that it’s everywhere…

Whether in our haven here in the hood or an orphanage in Ecuador… The solution is the same; we all need Jesus. In our relationships and in our lives, it is only through Christ that we will become righteous. It’s an interesting thing… coming back from a trip like that…

I may have gone to help others, but I myself desperately need the Lord.

---------- For (him), who I know has my best in mind. I love you Stephen.

Te voy a extranar

2011-06-25T19:24:00.002-05:00

I was showing them photos of themselves from the last time I had been there.

Although he told me over and over, I just couldn’t remember how to say it. Scott, how do you say “I will miss you”. Eventually, he wrote it down for me and I read off of the sheet as best I could while tears streamed down my face…

There is something about the boys home we visit. When I enter into those gates something floods over me and the rest of the world fades away. They come from all over; abandoned at birth, beaten in the jungle, from parents who just can’t afford them, left in the streets, sold, abused, starved or from parents who become incarcerated. They come wounded, afraid and even in chains (literally). I can only imagine the amount of fear and loneliness they harbor, and when I go there, for a few hours, I have the the opportunity to show them that they aren’t alone. And to show them that they are loved.

We enjoyed every minute with those boys. Brice ran around with several of them and I… well, I spent most of my time going here and there, wherever they asked me to come so that they could show me the puppies, or how fast they could run, or how high they could jump. Sometimes I just listened. I listened to them excitedly tell me about all sorts of things in a language I can’t understand. I held their hands and did my best to tell them that I loved them and that they are “muy especial”. I could have stayed there forever.

As we were wrapping up our visit the director thanked us for the beds we brought (we purchased and delivered five bunk beds so that each boy could have his own bed and not have to share or sleep on the floor), and when we asked him what else they needed he talked about how Christmas time is the most difficult for them. He said that Christmas day is the worst day of the year. Despite the grand meal that is prepared the boys all sit at the table and cry. All of them. The adults do what they can to liven the mood with music and dancing around, but the room is filled with lonely tears…

I saw those tears. Leaving that orphanage was so hard to do. There is one boy, 11 years old, that my heart fell in love with. He was wearing a necklace that had the name “Jesus” carved into it. I held it up and told him that he was special, that Jesus loved him and that Jesus was very important… for him. It was the best, and only way that I could communicate that message in Spanish. He buried his head into my shoulder and hugged me as tears streamed down his precious and beautiful face. It felt like forever that my arms held that child, and letting him go… was the most difficult thing I had to do all week.

Te voy a extranar…

A message from God

2011-06-25T17:26:00.001-05:00

The freezer was full of bones. Bones that were donated from, I don’t even know where, but that’s where they typically get their meat from; scraping it off of another man’s waste (yes, they seriously scrape off whatever scraps of meat they can find.

Someone got a phone call about another orphanage that is in great need and that was said to be worse off than the ones we were visiting. We decided that today we would visit that orphanage.

It’s located in the ghetto, and since no one had been there before we decided to leave the kidos and the prego behind, just in case. We arrived to find 35 plus kids living on a large and pretty nice property, but one that they are only renting and have to leave in nine months. When we asked the director where she and the children will go, her response was that she knows God will provide, even though the tangible reality is that they have no where, and no money.

Like most, this orphanage needs beds… and when we went into the kitchen we discovered that they also need food. When the freezer door swung open to reveal a pile of meatless bones I stood there in complete shock, I think everyone did. It wasn’t until that moment that the threat of starving children when food is being wasted became reality and the only thing I could do was stand it silence. Looking around, I didn’t see much else in the kitchen so I asked where they store the rest of their food and I was lead to an empty “bodega”. All that was in the store room was a sack of potatoes.

It was an easy decision… We used the last $500 dollars that we had to purchase food for them. We went to a local store and bought up all their meat, 50 kilos of rice, 100 eggs, several boxes of milk, a sac of potatoes, sugar, oil, and a whole lot more including toothpaste and laundry soap. The kids will probably have enough food to eat for a few weeks.

We asked several times who the phone call came from and how they found out about our work in the orphanages, though we never received an answer. I have come to the conclusion that it must have been a phone call from God.

Broken and Beautiful

2011-06-23T01:46:00.001-05:00

Like a rose amongst thorns he sits; beautiful and precious, it’s difficult to imagine why he is left and heart wrenching to know that he is unwanted. Yes, he has a home and food to eat most of the time, but even in the best of them, life in an orphanage is not easy.

These kids have stories that would break your heart. Some were abandoned at birth and left to die by the riverside. Others were beaten or burned and an overwhelming majority have been abused. One can only imagine the things that go on in an orphanage where all of these young, hurting and broken souls are together and supervision is limited…

A volunteer in one of the orphanages was sharing a magazine with the children and one of the young girls ran to get her magazine to share as well. The magazine she brought back was not appropriate for her to have, yet she didn’t seem as if she understood that it wasn’t something she should be looking at. From time to time orphans will become pregnant. With no positive and healthy examples of husband and wife many of them act out what they know and inappropriate behavior amongst orphans occur. This is often an issue when boys are sharing beds as they are in one of the homes here. This is just one of many issues that these children may face. In one of the orphanages they went without food for two weeks and had only Coke to serve the children. Orphans are picked on and outcast in the public school. Most of them will never know the comfort of a mother or the safety of a fathers arms. Think about that for a moment.

There is a brokenness here that is in many ways indescribable.

He is memorable to all of us and several of us would adopt him in a heartbeat. He is such a beautiful child. When pizza was delivered to the orphanage on Saturday he stood back while all of the other children took their pieces and even shoved pieces into their pockets, making sure that everyone got to have a piece. As the crowd died down he made his way to take a slice and after just one bite noticed that one of the younger boys didn’t get a piece and without hesitation gave him his slice of pizza.

In the midst of brokenness there is beauty here; there are lives, there are souls. We talked in the bus today about how when a child in the orphanages dies it is only the volunteers who grieve the loss… and I can barely manage to think about all of the beauty here that will never be seen.

----------

I know that there is brokenness all over the world and even in my own neighborhood. It just happens to be that at this moment we feel a burden for these children here in Ecuador. If you would like to find out about what you can do to help or about joining the next trip please contact me or visit www.dandoamor.com. Current needs include $5.00 donations to purchase a pillow, pillowcase and lice shampoo for a child. And $200 donations to purchase 10 bunk beds in an orphanage where boys are sleeping two to a bed. For every four donations of $50 a bed could be purchased and for every eight $25 donations a bed could be purchased. Every dollar counts.

Give us eyes to see

2011-06-22T07:48:00.001-05:00

There is so much that I could write about right now… but it’s late and you probably don’t have time to read a novel. I think that one of the most powerful moments for me today (and there were many) was when Brice choose on his own to go back in and see what he could do to help during meal time at the orphanage where children with disabilities and special needs are at.

I had asked him to come in with me and help feed the kids but he was nervous and probably overwhelmed and did not want to help. I was admittedly disappointed but I allowed him to go back outside to play. Not long after, he came to me with a question “mom, what’s wrong with these kids”. His little eyes were filled with sincerity and concern and I knew that I needed to take this opportunity. I started at the beginning and we talked about the fall and sin and how different it was in the garden with God. Then we talked about how much God loves all people and how special each one of the children are. And lastly we discussed death and new life and how one day we will be given new bodies and there will no longer be pain, sickness or sadness. I don’t know all the answers or the reasons why, but I know God’s goodness, love and grace and I wanted to help my son to focus on that. We did also talk a bit about the different needs and disabilities between the kids and that led to Brice asking about several of them specifically. Two of the children (that I know about) have disabilities that developed from abuse such as severe beatings or worse. I shared this with Brice and we talked about how God has given us our hands not to do harm, but for good, and that today we have the opportunity help those in need. He wiped away a couple of tears and took a few moments to think… and then he decided to go back inside… and in that moment, in that selfless decision, all the nervousness and fear was removed and his eyes were opened a little bit more.

"Mi hijo"

2011-06-20T01:25:00.000-05:00

We made it to our final destination and are safe and sound here in the hostel. That was a crazy itinerary for sure; eight hours in Houston and Nine in Panama. Brice did pretty well for a nine year old. In fact, I'm pretty impressed with how well he handled it all. He was pretty nervous and excited on our first flight, but by the third leg he was mush less enthused and much more exhausted...

He basically pooped out during the third leg, and as he lay there sprawled across the seats with his head on my lap and his stinky feed pressed against Stephany, I couldn't help but feel totally excited for this time I get to spend with him. Once upon a time it used to be just me and Brice, but now there is Stephen and four other kidos and a dog and a hamster and bunny and Steph lives with us... And I know that sometimes, since he is the oldest, Brice's time gets sacrificed for whatever else is going on. But, this week we we get a little bit of me and Brice, and I am blessed and so happy to have him here and to call him "my son".

Five tickets to Ecuador(Her)

2011-06-17T21:27:00.004-05:00

Where do I even begin… It’s been a crazy last couple of weeks. In the midst of preparing for this trip to Ecuador, our studio has finally been picking up and I have been busy everyday, we had our garage broken into and things stolen out of it, one of the boys friends shared pornography with our children (There’s a future post coming about that), and there has been a death in my family that has been pretty rough for my parents. Talk about opposition. Here I am supposed to be going to care for, love on, and provide for orphans and my own family seems to be floundering around barley able to identify up from down right now. Not even a week ago I was so ready to call the trip off. In addition to home stuff we have yet to raise all the money for the organization we are traveling with and my awesome team of eight has dwindled down to five and we humbly approach the organization with fewer numbers and not enough money…

At one point I was pretty convinced that we weren’t actually supposed to go on this trip at all. And maybe we weren’t. No joke, every time Stephen went to purchase our plane tickets something went wrong. He’d get through the process only to be redirected and informed that there were no longer five seats available, or the ticket prices would sky rocket. Seriously… every time. Finally he had someone else find and try to book tickets and Stephen would give him our card info. to pay for them. The guy found tickets, at a price we could all afford, and began to book them. When he got to the confirmation page he realized that he had accidently booked six seats instead of five and had to change that… at which point the prices shot up AGAIN. Not even kidding. After that I totally thought that it just wasn’t meant to be and I had the ever so humbling conversation with the organization that we may not be joining them in Ecuador.

I think that was part of the journey. If you know me well, you know that I have struggled most of my life to be known and accepted. Only recently have I believed that I always was. But still, from time to time I desire to make a name for myself, and I have to admit that this trip had a faint scent of just that. I wanted so badly to have an awesome team and raise tons of money and have everyone see how great it was that I could accomplish this. But you know what… I’m not great at all. Not without Christ. And every time I attempt to build my Babylon He is gracious enough to knock it down.

We are fewer in number and in order to go on this trip I have to commit to raise or earn money when I get back. But today, I feel really good about it all. I feel relieved that the cat is out of the bag… I’m not amazing… I’m just a girl. But it’s OK, because God IS amazing. Those of going got together last night and prayed and God reminded me that this trip isn’t about me or my family or money or the number of people going… It’s about Him. It’s about an opportunity to love in His name.

Longing(her)

2011-05-23T23:10:00.001-05:00

It's an aching that you don't forget. I'm talking about that gut wrenching ache that results from the loss of love. And yes, it probably isn't or wasn't actually love at all, but in the moments and even days after the breakup your heart nearly stops, your eyes swell, throat sticks, head throbs and your stomach is in knots.

When talking and praying with a friend God revealed to me the misplaced desire for Him in my heart. We all feel it... That sense that something is missing. I spent much of my life trying to fill that "God sized hole" with, well to put it out there... Boys. It should be no surprise that that "fulfillment" never lasted.

Crazy how much you can suffer over the loss of love... The feeling of abandonment and unbearable loneliness. I got to thinking about it all. If that longing for love, acceptance and companionship was given to me by God and designed to be for Him, maybe that aching is a small glimpse of an eternity without Him.

Location:17th St SE,Cedar Rapids,United States

An afternoon outdoors

2011-05-02T08:22:00.001-05:00

I am so ready for being outside… parks and road trips, camping, ice cream cones EVERY afternoon… Being a mom is best in the summertime!

Six months (plus one month) photo

2011-04-27T13:23:00.002-05:00

Better late than never… Here is Brynn, growing up all too quickly and looking quite adorable in a hat that was hand-made in Ecuador.

My divided heart(Her)

2011-04-12T07:26:00.002-05:00

The noise was awful. I had to turn around and drive it home. Why now? We can't afford a car repair right now and I spent a good couple of days angry about my dumb van…

It wasn’t as easy as I maybe expected to process through everything after coming back from Ecuador. I thought that I would blog about all the things I saw and did on the trip, but I just haven’t exactly been able to.

A friend of mine called me out one day and said some things about the way my tone and attitude was with my children, and while it was very difficult for me to hear, it was true. I was angry. I was struggling with their ungratefulness after having just seen children weep joyously over mattresses and tin cups, and knowing that my kids complain if they don’t get the right colored cup to drink from. It was a difficult transition for me.

But it has also been so wonderful. And so eye opening. And God continues to use my experience there to refine me.

When we first got back I was ready to sell everything. We live in abundance and yet struggle to live joyously. I wish that my heart could have stayed in that place forever…

It was last Friday that my van started having some trouble. By Sunday (He) and I had already argued over the darn thing, we were stressed about it and I couldn’t understand why this inconvenience was happening. As I sat there in church on Sunday morning I asked Him why? I pleaded and told God that I “needed” my van.

How soon my heart can forget.

The Lord replied to me “I thought you were willing to sell everything.”

When the light shines(Her)

2011-03-29T09:50:00.006-05:00

I was outside brushing the dog and noticed that we were not alone. Across the street stood a man, that I did not recognize, staring at me. Maybe he was admiring Mikey, but whatever he was doing it made me quite uncomfortable. And of course, these things always happen when (he) isn’t home. (He) is in Florida right now. At least I didn’t have to call the police this time…

It was somewhere around 4 AM when I woke to screaming in the street. I didn’t get up right away because, well, screaming in the street isn’t all that uncommon around here. It wasn’t long before I could tell that something was seriously wrong and I peered out the bedroom window to see a woman running from a man. I moved to the office where I could get a better view and at that time the man had conquered her and she lay in a heap on the floor crying out for help. I thought briefly about running outside, but realized that that probably would not have been wise and so I called 911 instead. As the dispatcher had me describing everything that I could two other men approached the scene. It was as if it were straight out of the movies, one of them had a long black trench coat on and in a split second I watched the three men drag the woman into a car and speed off. My face was practically glued to the window as I tried my best to see a license plate for the dispatcher; no luck. It was only seconds before I saw the first police car drive by in the direction that I reported that the car had gone. I can only hope that they caught them.

Not long after I got off of the phone I realized that I had been peering through an open window and that I was probably pretty visible from the road… and then my thoughts began to race. I called (him) right away and he prayed for me. Distraught by the whole ordeal I started questioning God. Why does so much go on in the night? And when is it safe, when are people safe? The Lord replied “When the light shines.” and as the sun began to split the night I felt at ease and was able to fall back to sleep.

It’s bigger than us(Her)

2011-03-21T15:22:00.003-05:00

Even still today it is difficult for me to talk about our experience in Ecuador. It’s not that everything was completely awful… I think that part of it is that maybe I didn’t really know thankfulness until now. I have often wondered and even asked the Lord why; why has this or that happened in my life, why this circumstance or another, why these sorrows etc. Today those why’s seem so trivial and I realize that I have taken so much for granted. I know that God isn’t upset at me, but to myself I say “how dare I complain”. There are children out there who from their first breaths will never ever so much as have a mother say I love you, let alone be offered the wealth of opportunities that I have wasted.

A global perspective gives new meaning to so many scriptures and while we don’t have all the details worked out yet, it would be a waste not to use the resources, wealth and talent we have so generously been given, so here I sit, blogging from the hood… with intentions for the world…

Ecuador: A Brief Reflection (him)

2011-03-17T12:05:00.002-05:00

It's my 2nd to last day in Ecuador. I'm the only one without a camera this week, so my experience has been a little different, I think. Normally, I let my thoughts simmer for days or weeks, but this week has had my mind racing - trying to process all the information and images. I don't know how to ascribe some significant meaning, so I'll just describe my week...

Day 1

In the morning, we visited a state run orphanage. The facilities were fairly well taken care of, but as with any of the places I would visit - things were amiss. A playground that children weren't allowed to play in or toilets that frequently back up, spilling sewage into the shower and living areas.

Later, we visited an all boys orphanage. A starker, more dire picture...children (even teenage boys) sleeping two to a bed; a half a bag of rice to feed 40 kids and no idea when more food would come in. The leaders of these orphanges reminded me of George Muller: always in need, always praying that needs would be met with no idea how they would be.

Day 2

We've flown to another city in Ecuador. We visit an all girls orphanage run by a French order of Catholic nuns. Two of the eldest girls take us on a tour of the facilities. One wants to be a doctor, the other would like to own a business. Anything is possible? I walked through the computer room and saw a young girl working in MS Excel. I wonder how my particular skills could help. Could I teach business skills? Could I improve the chances of a girl becoming a business owner?

Later in the day, at another Catholic orphanage for infants and toddlers, a little girl calls me Papa. Its crazy, but there are no men in their lives now, and the only men they knew beat them or their moms or were constantly drunk. They grow without any concept of what manhood means.

Day 3

Squalor. Two months ago one of the orphanages was forced to move to a new location because their landlord raised the rent by 50%. Beds are falling apart, food in the refigerator would be appalling to most Americans. Most rooms smell of mold or urine. But then I hear of what this place once was... A hotel, but not any hotel, it was a hotel with a strip club attached. Rooms were rented a half hour at a time. Rather than think of what they've been forced to accept, my mind turns to redemption. This place can be redeemed, these children's lives - thrown away by everyone they'd known - can be redeemed.

Later we visit a lady who opened her home to orphans. She told the government she could handle eight children, but she has more than 20 living in her home. Lice, rats, more smells that make my stomach turn. There are 2 staff taking care of all the children. It's not physically possible to care for these kids appropriately. Here I should feel despair, but I look at the faces of the 2 workers and I just see hope. There is hope for these children.

Day 4

We're trying to address some immediate needs (replacing some mattresses, buying some eating utensils, some bags of rice), but the group has decided that long term, what the kids really need is love and attention. It's going to take people to provide them with hope and an opportunity for redemption.

Please be a part of it... dandoamor.com/wordpress

Stephen Lloyd

Today is the day…

2011-03-13T12:09:00.001-05:00

We left the house last night around 10 PM, flew from Chicago to Atlanta this morning and are now enjoying a six hour layover. I still can’t believe we are here. I didn’t get my passport until Friday afternoon and hadn’t even signed it before trying to present it at the airport (good thing I had another form of ID). Are you at all curious as to why my passport cut it so close? Well, the short of it is that my application was a complete mess. Between all the name changes in my family and not knowing information like my father’s birthday, I suppose I don’t blame them for wanting to verify my identity. As it turns out, and after faxing the passport agency literally EVERY piece of identification I had, they decided that I am indeed Tiffanie Lloyd, and today I get to fly to Quito.

We did not reach our $5,000 goal. We got close though… $3,305. Stephen and I are committed to raising the rest when we get home and will send it back because the really cool thing about it is that as a team we are deciding what to do with the money. Last time they were able to hire an English teacher in one of the all girls orphanages for an entire year.

Though we didn’t raise all the funds yet, we are traveling with two large and one medium suitcase all filled with crayons, coloring books, bubbles, toys and stuffed animals. We probably have enough gifts for at least 250 kids.

So many of our friends have showered us with their support; by bring donations for the kids, providing financial support, and prayers. It’s been pretty amazing how supportive people have been and how excited they are for us. And while we may not have reached $5,000 yet, we still have support coming in and God has proven his provision in so many ways throughout the process of preparing for this trip.

The kidos are in good hands. Unfortunately for them (and fortunately for us) we seem to have left behind a stomach bug. The other day, Darci, in her own words, “peed my butt” (poor thing). She is all better, but this morning Nev woke up with the runs. If you think about it, maybe you could say a little prayer for them… and for their sitter.

And if your wondering what it’s like for me to be here in Atlanta… I did get emotional for a minute. I’ve been so busy that it didn’t really hit me until I was actually here; it’s one of the last places I ever thought I ‘d return to and it is pretty strange to think about just how close I am to my father right now. Luckily, I am traveling with the the greatest guy in the world and there isn’t anyone I would have rather experienced this with… Atlanta or Ecuador.

Believe it or not, and despite (him) and a friend talking about plane crashes last night… I’m not really experiencing any anxieties. (He) drove the entire way to Chicago and I was feeling a bit nervous then, but I started praying (and I’m pretty sure (he) was praying for me too) and I thought a lot about our experience moving to the hood and how those circumstances were comparable to this trip.God reminded me of His provision, His sovereignty and His promises of goodness. Ultimately, I am not in control, and it wasn’t until I released that grip and stopped worrying about all the “what if’s” and things that could go wrong that I started to feel better.

So, here we are. Well, here I am, Stephen went off to check out the food situation here in the airport. I’m pretty sure he is most excited about trying new foods during this adventure… pretty sure.

Look for our updates throughout the week…

Headed to Ecuador

2011-02-10T14:20:00.001-06:00

About the trip

Last weekend, at a photography conference, Tiffanie befriended some potential mentors and very talented people. Now, we’re part of a trip to Ecuador next month (Mar. 13^th-18^th) through an organization called OSSO (Orphanage Support Services Organization). While in Ecuador, Tiffanie, myself, and a team of 9 other photographers will photograph and work where most of the children will live out their entire childhoods. We are very excited to be a part of this team.

As most of you probably know, Tiffanie has had a desire to go overseas for as long as I have known her. She is honored and eager to take her first trip abroad. While in the orphanages we will get to experience the children; hold their hands and see their smiles, yes, but also experience their circumstances first hand.

The photographers will be taking along portable printers so that they can print photographs for kids to have and hang on their walls. Prints will also be sent back to the orphanages after we return home.

The children in the orphanages rarely, if ever, have their pictures taken, so it will be awesome to leave them with a gift of knowing that someone cared enough to not only take their picture, but leave them with a copy to cherish forever. We hope this act can convey Christ’s love to them.

Please pray for us, our travels, Tiffanie’s passport, our children, their babysitter, the team, and the children and people we will meet in Ecuador. We are excited, honored, and a bit nervous, but trusting God and his sovereignty.

Please consider supporting us. We need to raise $5,000. It’s not a huge amount, but we are the last members to join the team. While their letters went out months ago, we have just over a month to raise our portion.

About Lloyd Photography

Tiffanie has been photographing for about two years now and recently “business” has been picking up. She landed her first big jobs: some ongoing work with a non-profit organization called HADSA and some modeling sessions for a new salon. People are also finding Tiffanie online and booking weddings and sessions.

That makes it legit, right? While talented in many ways, we acknowledge that when it comes to the intricacies of running a business, I’m probably a better fit. So, Tiffanie Lloyd Photography is in the process of birthing Lloyd Photography, inc.; a family affair.

Where does the money go?

It’s quite amazing, actually. We will evaluate the needs of the orphanages when we arrive and decide how to invest the money we raise as a team. $3,000 of the $5,000 we raise will go directly into the orphanages and any work we do for there.

During the first trip to Ecuador a group of five photographers were able to fix a roof over a computer room and hire an English tutor for a full year. Why that? In Ecuador, English and computer skills increase an orphan’s chances of survival as an adult.

As a team, our goal is to raise between $20,000 and $30,000.

Make a support donation

tiffanielloydphotography@gmail.com

Party of one(her)

2011-01-24T14:48:00.002-06:00

Ever feel like life has gotten the best of you? One thing after another… and then another. We had a less than perfect weekend and the fun just keeps coming. I had to drive (him) to work this morning because there is something wrong with the truck. Then, not only did I get lost on my way home from play group, but I got a one hundred and twenty seven dollar ticket for my expired tags and a warning for a tail light that is apparently out. Darn my late birthday. The holidays flew by and I never gave a thought to my tags. The papers must have been mailed to our old address because I didn’t get them and that is how I am usually reminded that it’s time to pay for new ones. I want to have a pity party right now and write about all the crappy situations in life, but I think I’ll tell you about a sermon I heard yesterday instead.

I was at a church in Dubuque with friends (and if you are in Dubuque, you should check out New Life Church). The pastor was talking about life and how to make it count. He asked everyone to think about our routines and our priorities. He said that “it is by our choice that we are where we are in life, and it will be by our choice that we change”. He said that sometimes in life, “we need to let go of good things in order to allow room for the best thing”. He asked us what it will take to turn things around, to stop wanting to do better but to set fourth a plan and see it through. He talked about narrowing our vision to be focused on God. And by that last one alone… I’m willing to bet that this party of pity will end.

Raising liars, cheaters and thieves(her)

2011-01-11T13:00:00.001-06:00

I don’t even know how I knew. Call it a mother’s intuition, maybe I picked up on an inflection in his voice or a look in his eye. Maybe it was God.

We allowed the kids to have one piece of candy each after dinner. One of the boys sent his brother up to let the other brother know that he could come and pick a piece out. While his brother was away he tucked a second piece of chocolate into his pocket. I called him over and before he turned the corner he dropped his sweatshirt on the floor. I asked him to pick it up and bring it me. On his way over he attempted to smuggle the chocolate from his sweatshirt to his pants pocket, but… that didn’t work out so well.

I couldn’t help it. I cried when I confronted him. “They will all learn to lie, cheat and steal” (he) said. And while that may be true, it just breaks my heart.

We spoke to him about how disappointed we are. How we don’t want him to loose our trust. And most importantly about how he needs to think about why he made that extra piece of candy more important than trusting God. Dad did a great job of keeping a Biblical perspective and although we didn’t take anything away or give him a spanking I think that the conversation was good and effective.

The ugly truth is that we all have sin. I can’t make my children do or become anything. But we can raise them in a home that honors Christ. We can point them to a relationship with God. The rest is in His hands, and the most powerful tool I have for raising my little liars, cheaters and thieves is prayer.

The Salt of the Earth(her)

2011-01-09T14:31:00.003-06:00

I missed church this morning. Didn’t want to take Brynn out and risk her picking anything up. It was actually a relief not to go. I didn’t have to figure out what to wear or how to fix my hair. I didn’t have to put on my happy face and tell everyone that all things are “fine”.

It was a PTA meeting that got me thinking. During the meeting last Tuesday we discussed the migration of students from Chicago to Cedar Rapids. Our neighborhood and elementary is seeing the majority of these kids and when they get to school they come without any supplies, hardly any clothing and sometimes without a home to live in. Parents are jobless and families need food and other basic necessities. The school is doing it’s best to meet the needs of these students but we don’t have a social worker and individuals are taking on these roles.

Stephen and I will never pretend to be perfect or run a perfect household. A while back when the poetry slam closed down and our Wednesday dinners dissolved we were encouraged to focus on our home and not so much on outside ministries. I’ll be the first to say that my family is my first priority and ministry, but since we haven’t been doing much else I have realized that we have gotten pretty comfortable in our solitude, and when I look around I see much of the same. I’m thinking that there is a happy medium that we need to find. I’m thinking that when we reach out to others (which is what we are called to do) it just might help us to stay focused and to keep the right perspective. (And when I say “others” read “those outside the church.) When we spend all of our time within the walls of our church I feel like we can loose our grip on the realities of the world outside. And that bothers me. I think that fellowship with people in the church is important, but I don’t think that it is how we should spend all of our time or what we should revolve all of our programs around.

I have seen God do amazing things in relationships when we are willing to skip our Starbucks and play dates to do ministry together. What good is it if we are all just shaking our salt around in the salt shaker.

Trusting you more(her)

2011-01-06T07:05:00.002-06:00

She is so small. And life is so fragile. Last night so many thoughts rushed through my head.

I walked down the hall to find room 2 where (he) sat with our baby. Something about these places make me so anxious and it wasn’t long before the tears began again. (He) prayed for us both before he left and during the ride up to the NIC I felt a calm sweep over me. It could have been the sheer fact that it’s so much more relaxed and home-like up here, but I think that God was answering our prayers. My thoughts turned from “what if” to how much HE loves her. There is little I can do for her right now, but I know that God is in control.

I am watching her sleep. Her breathing is fairly steady right now. She looks so helpless in the middle of that huge cage with all those cords connected to her tiny little body. She recently had a breathing treatment, but they switched to something other than albuterol because her heart rate wouldn’t come down much below 200. They have run several tests and took more blood this morning. Her X-Ray last night shows some haze and the doctor is concerned that she may have pneumonia.

Despite this uncomfortable chair that I attempted to sleep in, I’m glad we are here. I am thankful for the very kind nurses (whom I prayed for on the way up) that have been taking care of my daughter. I am thankful for our amazing doctor who came in last night to look things over and talk with me about it all. She might be my daughter, but God is using many hands right now. And all there is to do is trust Him.

I don’t trust you like I should(her)

2011-01-05T21:49:00.005-06:00

I think (he) was a little bit upset at me for calling and asking him to come home; it was his first night in his philosophy class. I wish I could handle these things better, but I am just a wreck…

They have all been “sick” for a while now. This time it’s a cough. We hardly ever go to the doctor and we pretty much know the routine. Rotate Tylenol and Motrin, drink lots of fluids, call us back if it persists for more than a few days or gets worse. There are rarely any good answers and never much that can actually be done. Plus, we typically opt out of most meds and shots anyway. Most of them seem to be getting better and haven’t had any elevated temperatures. Nev and the baby were the last to catch the bug. It came on slowly for our three month old and at first it was just a small cough. Then late one night the coughing wouldn’t stop. The only thing I could do to calm her was to nurse and cuddle her (which I didn’t mind so much). The next morning she was again her smiley little self. But then at some point today she started the persistent coughing again and spiked a fever. I had her resting right by me while (he) was at class when I noticed that both of her eyes were all goopy and she really didn’t look to good. Sure enough, she was pretty warm again. I nursed her first and then took her up to try and get some Tylenol in her between the coughing that had started up again, but it got so bad that she just kept throwing up. It kept getting worse from there, and the next thing I knew she wasn’t breathing. I’m sure it was only a few seconds but it felt like FOREVER and when it happened a second time I started to freak out. Tears were streaming, I was asking God to heal her, and I just paced the house with her clenched in my arms. Her breathing was not steady and I was really scared. So I called (him).

I can’t handle it on my own. I hate when my kids are in pain. I can’t deal with scary situations like serious injuries and sickness. It’s always been that way. I used to work in the medical field and I loved the rush of the ER. I have sutured open head wounds and seen all sorts of serious injuries and illnesses. But when it comes to my own kids I become an emotional wreck and (he) pretty much has to take over for me.

(He) came home and I put her in her car seat and watched them drive away. “Take some time and pray” (he) said.

First, I called and canceled with a friend for tomorrow and then I frantically made myself a cup of hot cocoa and accidently spilled water on my phone, and now it isn’t working. I finally sat down to pray. During that time I thought a bit about why I go into freak out mode and it became pretty clear to me that it’s because I don’t trust God with my kids. There are lots of things that I think I have great faith about, and I might have even said that my kids were one of them… but I really struggle to hand them over. I love them SO much that my desire is to be in control of every little thing so that I can protect them and save them, and when something happens that is out of my control I can’t handle it. I know it’s OK to be scared, but I want to be able to be calm too. To have peace. And that will only come from trusting the Lord.

Happy New Year(her)

2011-01-02T15:46:00.003-06:00

2010 was yet another eventful year here in the hood. Back in the Spring we moved out of the house on 15th and into our own home a few blocks up on 17th.

It’s an older home with beautiful wood trim and staircase. We did have a few home improvement jobs that we got started on right away (and that aren’t all finished yet).

Living here has been great. We are blessed to have a house that is large enough to accommodate many, and we have certainly taken advantage of that. The street is quieter than it was over on 15th, but now we actually have neighbors. And though it’s quieter, I wouldn’t say less eventful. You may have read about the neighbor boy (who on a side note was given a BB gun for Christmas) that we have had eventful interactions with, the police and ambulance have been to the apartments next door twice in the middle of the night since Christmas, and a very loud (like yelling in the street) family recently moved in a few houses down across the road. We continue to try and build relationships with our neighbors, though honestly, we have been failing to have much commitment and follow through with that in the last few months. Someone recently reminded me of the time I took bread to all our neighbors, maybe it’s time to bake some cookies…

So, we started the year as a family of six.

And ended it as a family of seven. We were blessed to welcome Brynn in September and I especially am so excited to see our family grow as the dynamics change from a family of boys to having now two little girls.

Another highlight of 2010 includes our participation of VBS at church. We had a blast helping with that and working with all the kids.

Some really awesome things came out of that (even aside from sharing Christ with the kids). Some of the kids who are related to a family next door came and that really opened up the doors for relationships. Until then some of them were pretty skeptical of us moving into the neighborhood. We also met some amazing people from another church that helped out and Stephen and I have kept in touch with another family in particular that we really enjoy and probably would not have met otherwise. Kids and grownups from different neighborhoods came together that week and that was really cool. I hope that our church will continue to reach out, and I’m sure that it will continue to collaborate with other churches… and I think that that is the way it should be.

Let’s see, Stephen is still in school and still at Aegon. He looks forward to some changes happening at work right now as well as to another year closer to graduation. He is of course still reading a lot, and he has recently taken up whittling. In fact, he carved a figure for me out of a block of wood that is really quite impressive. He bought a truck this year and has become somewhat of the church haul-it man which although, to be honest, has been at times inconvenient, has allowed him to spend time with people here and there and that always turns out to be time well spent.

We gave Miku (the corgi we had) to a new family and we adopted Mikey (a girl) in May. She is a big beautiful playful lab who has as much energy as the kids.

She gets to me every now and then, but overall Mikey has been a great addition to the family. The kids love her and strangers in the neighborhood keep their distance, so she is certianly fulfilling her purpose.

I have been spending a lot of my time at the kids schools, helping out with field trips, parties, activities or doing work for the teachers or helping or playing with the kids.

As I recently wrote about, I am enjoying this time and though it was such a difficult decision to put the kids in school, overall, it has been so great for our family.

As if mothering five and keeping my house clean weren’t enough, I always have my hands in something. I tried Arbonne for a brief moment this year, but it just wasn’t my thing. I am still doing photography, and in fact that has been picking up quite a bit and I am looking forward to opening a studio this year. I do miss Young Life every now and then, but I keep in touch with several of the kids and it was the right choice for us right now. I actually get to be a part of the lives of three little ones whose moms were all some of my Young Life girls, and that has been really neat.

We said goodbye to several close friends in 2010.

One family moved off to Texas, another to Colorado, one of my close and long time friends and ministry partners moved to Dubuque, and one of Stephen’s buddies moved to Ames. It’s been neat to see God working in each of those families and though we miss them all, it’s neat to see where God has called them, and we can only pray to have as much faith and obedience to the Lord as we have seen in some of our friends this past year.

Let’s see, it wouldn’t be a Lloyd family letter if I didn’t mention Stephany.

Steph is our babysitter/nanny-ish, help with whatever, my second photographer, and friend. She has been an amazing blessing to our home, family and life and I don’t know what we would do without her. My kids LOVE and adore her, and she loves them back like crazy. Recently she told me that she won’t be moving when she graduates because she couldn’t leave the kids, oh my gosh, I can’t even describe how amazing that is. You are absolutely irreplaceable Steph!

What else… we bought a camper and took it out for our first camping trip over Thanksgiving. That was super fun and we are looking forward to using it next summer.

It looks small, and it is, but there is a sink and stove and three beds, and we all fit.

One of my bff’s got married and moved closer to us and I’m looking forward to spending more time with her.

We spent Christmas with Stephens parents at Grizzly Jacks again and that was super fun.

And I rang in the new year with my brother Josh at a concert he had going on. Which, by the way… his band, Silver Creek, is amazing and you should check them out if you get a chance.

Thanks for reading about our year… cheers to the next one.

Hope you had a wonderful Christmas and that the new year is filled with joy!

Blessings,
From the Lloyds

Missing Money(her)

2010-12-20T13:41:00.002-06:00

So, I know that I will continue to welcome a houseful of kids, but what do you do when one of them steals from you?

We have rehashed the weekend several times and I just don’t think I spent it. There was a five and three ones sitting in my purse, which I left here and there throughout the house. I was standing at the register in Walgreens this morning digging, and digging and digging. I will not outright accuse anyone, because maybe I lost it or maybe I did spend it. But the fact that one of the young boys did steal and lie about taking some candy, (which at the time I thought was pretty silly and let slide) I can’t help but wonder.

It also bugs me that someone may have been rummaging through my purse, where many of my private, personal and important things are stored.

I wonder if it will happen again. I wonder if someone were going to steal from us if they would still do so even after developing a relationship and spending a lot of time here. I wonder if I need to keep things under lock and key, or do we offer our tunic too? Should we say something or let it go? My initial reaction probably wasn’t “what Jesus would do”.

If I learn nothing else, I’m pretty sure that God wants me to really understand true wealth because this isn’t the first time that we have faced a similar situation and that I have had to struggle with being able to let go of “my” stuff or “my” money. Even as I type this I am thinking how perfect this is, so close to Christmas, God is reminding me of the ONE thing that is truly of any worth… and that all else will fade, and so… let it be taken. In fact, I probably ought to be doing more of giving it away.

Brice’s mom(her)

2010-12-19T08:37:00.002-06:00

I’m sitting here at the Play Station right now; just finished editing some photos while the boys and two of their friends are running off some energy. For one of the boys, this is his first time here and though he might come across as a tough kid from the hood, he is running around, climbing through the tubes, laughing and having a good time.

I like where I’m at… not necessarily this noisy play house, but I mean “Brice’s mom'”. And “Trent’s mom” and “Nevan’s mom”. I was recently helping out at an event over at Polk that some Johnson kids came to as well and as kids flooded into the gym I smiled and waved and high fived all the kidos who called out to me… “Hey Brice’s mom”. “Hi Trent’s mom”. “Hey, it’s Nevan’s mom”.

When the kids first started going to Johnson/Polk I wanted to be the house where kids came because I wasn’t comfortable allowing my babies to go ANYWHERE. That hasn’t exactly changed, but I have discovered that I love being the house where kids come and hang out and sleep over… I mean hey, why not, what’s a few more. Seriously though, I do still love the highschool age, but I’m discovering that younger kids can be pretty cool too. And that they need love and Jesus just as much. And that having a house full of them is so much more natural, since they are friends of our children and all. And that there are just as many of them wondering around in our neighborhood as there are teens, and that they are much easier to please.

The school year is about halfway done, and yes we have had a few issues. We had to learn some hard lessons about bullying and that kids aren’t always kind as well as lessons about standing up for what is right regardless of what others might be saying or doing. But all in all this is turning out to be a good experience and I just think to myself how silly I was to have stressed out so much over sending them to school.

I may not have known what it would be like, but it’s OK. You may never have pictured me as a PTA, minivan driving, classroom helper of a mommy, but I guess that’s who I am. And I like it.

Dear Pumpkin Thief…(her)

2010-10-13T20:32:00.002-05:00

At four dollars a pop I really took my time to pick out the perfect pumpkins. Had I know you were going to take them, I wouldn’t have wasted my time, especially since we only got to enjoy them for all of one day. It was a bit sad to wake up in the morning and find three of them missing. It is my strong suspicion that you live right next door. Surly you are that troublesome adolescent and probably used them for target practice or blew them up with one of your toilet bowl cleaner bombs. I suppose you might have been someone else. Maybe random passersby who saw them and thought “hey, free pumpkins.” In which case I hope you are enjoying them, you may not want to put them on your front steps though because they might get stolen. In case you are wondering, we bought more pumpkins yesterday. We carved them right away and put the four jack o lanterns on the porch railing. Surly you wouldn't steal four colored and carved pumpkins; the kids were excited to see them still sitting there this morning. If you are in fact the kid next door, please enjoy the two pumpkins I gave you today. Though I did not say so, that gift was in hopes that our pumpkins would not again disappear.

Baby Brynn

2010-09-27T22:03:00.001-05:00

One last night…(her)

2010-09-23T16:34:00.005-05:00

It’s hard to believe that nine months has already gone by and tomorrow we will meet this baby that has been growing in my tummy. At 8:00 am tomorrow my doctor is going to break my water and the countdown to meeting this tiny him or her will begin…

Is it strange that I’m a little bit nervous? Yup, I’ve done this a time or two before, but each one is still it’s own beautiful and amazing miracle and each birth has been a unique experience.

I’m also excited. I can’t wait to hold my baby, and I think I’ll even be OK if it’s a boy (which it probably is). I can’t wait to bring him or her home. I really don’t know what to expect, but I know that the dynamics in our house are about to change and that is exciting to me too.

Here’s to one last night with this belly…

Trying something new(her)

2010-08-31T14:35:00.004-05:00

It was easily one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do as mom. I know he wanted to come with me, and though I so wanted to grab him in my arms and take him home, I gave him the best smile I could, told him that I loved him and walked away. I sobbed all the way to the van and buried my face into Darci’s chest. It took a lot of prayer to get me through that first day of school.

We put the boys (all three of them) into public school this year. We talked about half days, homeschooling again and I even visited a private school, but nothing felt right and in the end I was super impressed by my visit to the public school. Even more so than the private school I went to, this public school is very concerned with parents being the first teachers and they are all about parent involvement. They gave me a tour, introduced me to several teachers and sent me home with literature to go over. Eventually… I came to feel really good about making the decision to send the kids there. However, it did not make that first day any easier.

We went to orientation the day before school started and met their teachers (who I love) and I joined the PTA. The next morning I helped the boys to find and get into their classroom lines before I went inside to pick up some things from the principal. When I came back outside I could see Brice in his line; there was a boy talking to him and I could tell he wasn’t being very nice. The boy had told Brice to get behind him, even though Brice had been there first, and as I approached Brice and his eyes met mine it took all he had not to start crying. I know he wanted to leave right then, but I told him that I loved him and to have a good day and that after school we would go out for ice cream to celebrate. Then I walked over to Trent’s line to say good bye and he was so nervous that he wouldn’t even look at me, let alone say good bye or give me a hug.

I prayed all day long. And when I got back to the school to pick them up I was greeted with big smiles and lots of stories about how awesome the first day was and about the new friends they each had made. Aside from Brice needing to learn the importance of homework (we can’t just disregard the papers that teachers send home anymore) public school has been going really well. I have already gotten to know their teachers, have had phone conversations with them and am scheduled to volunteer in the classrooms. The boys look forward to school each morning and I send them off with smiles, lunch and a big kiss (yes, they will still give me kisses).

I don’t know if they will all stay in public school, but it seems to be a good fit for our family right now. And although it was a very difficult decision for me to come to, I’ve realized that public school doesn’t make me any less of a mom, and I can still be involved in their education, and they can survive the world, and year to year or even semester to semester we can make different choices to fit the needs of our family.

Prodigal Dogs(Her)

2010-07-31T21:29:00.002-05:00

It was a couple of weeks ago, but the $100.00 we had to fork up to spring em’ still annoys me. Mikey and Miku discovered an open gate and left the yard. They had one grand adventure that unfortunately ended in a car ride to the pound. It was a pathetic site; the two of them huddled in one cell. They were quite happy to see us, and yet, I could tell they knew they had been naughty.

I could just imagine them, running around in disobedient freedom; pleased to have escaped the boundaries that once held them captive. They got a little too carried away though; one too many trash cans, barking at innocent neighbors and trespassing and they found themselves in true captivity. The gates of our backyard were a welcomed sight and we celebrated their return with clean water and an extra helping of food.

This is why we are here(Her)

2010-07-30T07:32:00.002-05:00

The lady next door gave the boot to her boyfriend and he now lives a house down; she wants me to meet the new boyfriend. A couple on the other side of us are trying to have a baby. The two kids they already have are living elsewhere; state mandated. There is a little boy, about five or so, who ever since coming to VBS at Imago earlier this month runs up to me and hugs me every time he sees me. We heard a gunshot in the street and then the screeching of tires a few nights ago. Last week I watched a couple argue and an angry woman storm off down the street pulling one of her kids by the arm. One of the neighbor boys (who is about eleven or so) recently sprayed my kids and our dogs with his hose. One of the neighbors was in jail a few weeks ago for yet another DUI. There is a younger couple across the street with two kids; they come and go quickly and quietly. We haven’t gotten to know them yet; they seem “out of place.” One of the neighbors knocked on the door to borrow one piece of chicken to make her boyfriend a birthday dinner; they had run out of food stamps for the month. One of the neighbors knocked on the door to ask if she could borrow five bucks. I’m pretty sure that some of the kids from across the street get locked out sometimes. There is a man who digs through the trash cans in the alley. A lady and her son were evicted late one night and moved in with some of the neighbors sometime between 1:00 AM and 2:00 AM. A guy in the building next door asked if we would keep an eye out for anyone stealing from his place because his keys were stolen. While tucking our kids into bed, some of the kids next door are outside playing and have yet to eat dinner. Most of our neighbors are unemployed.

I often think about how I was once one of our neighbors, and not that we are perfect by any means, but there is one thing that sets us apart, and His name is Jesus; and He is the one who delivers us and who gives hope… even here in the hood.

31 and a half weeks pregnant(Her)

2010-07-28T23:15:00.002-05:00

It wasn’t long ago (like two weeks ago) that I was lying in bed and it totally hit me… we are actually having another baby. My tummy has been growing and I have spent many moments watching my belly move with each jolt, kick and hiccup; but only recently has my mind been trying to wrap itself around the idea of five kidos. If I could only record the look on the faces of so many who I have shocked when answering the question “how many will this be?” The responses have been kind of funny and sometimes flattering, lately though, I think I am experiencing some of the same shock. Really, five kids?

Building relationships over bread(her)

2010-07-02T14:06:00.003-05:00

Last week a friend brought over a ton of bread. And I mean a serious ton. There were about 120 buns, 2 packages of rolls and 5 packages of French bread. Yes, we are a large and growing family… but that’s a bit over the top. :) The bread was actually left over from the BBQ round-up and he figured that we could make use of it or that we’d know of someone who could. We sent 60 buns to the church, I made sloppy joes for Wednesday dinner and we used about 25 then and I still have about 10 left. I also kept some of the French bread and rolls to serve on another Wednesday. I made little cards and Brice and I delivered the rest of the bread to several of our neighbors. It was a great excuse to knock on their doors and have conversations. And who would a thought just how much some bread would break barriers and open people up. Since then we had another neighbor join us for Wednesday dinner and another one stop by to pick up Wednesday dinner for her family to go (it’s a start). I have talked quite a bit more to the one neighbor and she opened up to me about her husband being in jail the last two weeks for a DUI. I have also had a visit from another neighbor who asked about borrowing some money. While I did not give her any money (we decided back on 15th street that that wasn’t always the best or safest way to help) it was a turning point for her to show her vulnerability and feel comfortable enough to ask.

I think I'll bake some cookies next week.

How well do you know your neighbors?(her)

2010-06-17T11:08:00.003-05:00

Over the last 15 months we have missed only a handful of Wednesday night dinners, and most of which because of the move. Last night I served a spread of Indian cuisine that I think went over pretty well. We had a full table and the pleasure of welcoming a couple of our new neighbors onto our home.

I got to thinking about how well we already know some of our neighbors; which after a few weeks is better than we ever knew any of our neighbors in Marion. Now, I could sit here and talk about the predominant suburban mindset of privacy and independence, but I have to also acknowledge and admit that we are also to blame. It shouldn’t have taken moving to the SE side for us to be so intentional about getting to know the people next door and in our neighborhood.

There is something to say though for the mindset that is very different in this neighborhood. People are more open to relationship, they are more available and open about who they are. The streets are lively and you won’t drive far without seeing crowds of people hanging out on their stoops and porches. (He) says he likes it down here better because people are less fake. Even in the suburbs people have problems, they just aren’t as apparent as the ones of those who live in the hood. Even in the suburbs there are lonely people, they just often prefer to remain so privately to uphold an image whereas down here, people are literally out looking for relationship.

I regret not getting to know our neighbors in Marion. It’s great to “go on mission” but it doesn’t make any sense to be living right next door to people we don’t even know.

House guests(her)

2010-06-14T12:20:00.002-05:00

Oh, the joys of homeownership. It wasn’t long after we moved in that we discovered our first house guests… a family of ants. They were delighted to make themselves at home in our cupboards, in the dining room and even up on the second floor. The ant infestation was clearly an issue before we moved in, but you know, no one ever mentioned it to us. We are gaining control of the situation and I have only seen a few stragglers in the last couple of days.

In addition to the insects we have had two flying rodents come to visit as well. One morning the boys and I discovered a bat sleeping soundly on the curtains in the stairway. I tried to brush it off with a broom, but my shaking hands just couldn’t get the job done. (He) was on the phone with me and wanted me to grab it off with a towel but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The kids and I locked ourselves up in the office with a box of breakfast bars and watched TV until (he) drove home from work to rescue us. We think it got in through the gaps between the window and the AC unit so we closed those up. So far we haven’t had any more bats in the house.

Jane (a fictitious name) has been a much more welcomed house guest. She moved in close to two weeks ago and is occupying the guest room. I met Jane at the poetry slam and she recently became in need of a place to live; to get on her feet. We actually haven’t seen much of Jane. Her things are here, but she hasn’t spent much time here at all. She said she doesn’t want to be a burden. She thinks that the less she is around the less chance she has of upsetting or disappointing us and being asked to leave. How completely wrong she is. If anything, we are disappointed in her constant absence. I told her the other day that we want her to be around, we want her to be “a part of the family” and that we want this to be her home. I have seen her for about five minutes total since.

People out there are lonely and like the bats, just looking for a safe place to rest. It’s crazy the lies that the world believes. It’s crazy how difficult it is to prove to Jane that we welcome her company.

Security(her)

2010-06-12T16:20:00.002-05:00

It took me two hours to install the new locks and handles on the front and back doors. A large chunk of that time was spent on the deadbolt on the front door. I installed one of those nifty touchpad systems. You can lock and unlock the door without using a key. The thing is pretty cool, you can program two codes up to 8 digits each. Anyway, after that one, replacing the rest of the locks was supposed to be smooth sailing. The backdoor was done in no time at all… one door left. Another two hours later and I ended up leaving the side door with a hole in it where the knobs were supposed to be. For the life of me, I could not get the thing to fit in there right and to latch and stay locked. As it turns out, a piece of the hardware was broken and (he) took it back to Menards later in the day. After getting the new part (he) was able to install the handle and get it to properly lock. Finally, we have all new locks. Why, you ask, did we go through all the trouble? Because (he) lost his keys the week we moved in. Every box has been unpacked and we still haven't found them. We searched both houses high and low and came up empty-handed. The last time (he) had them was while moving truckloads from the old house to the new one. (He) may have dropped them outside or set them down somewhere and forgotten them. We had some folks from the neighborhood helping that day too, and while we don’t really think anyone took them, we have to consider the possibility. Whatever happened to them, we decided to replace all the locks just to be safe. It’s crazy the amount of relief I felt when the job was done. There was definitely a bit of unhealthy anxiety I had about it. Since then I have thought a bit about the things I find my security in; the things I trust more than the Lord; the things I have made into idols.

Our new haven(her)

2010-06-10T09:41:00.012-05:00

What a crazy, busy, intense, stressful, exciting and… did I say crazy, few weeks it’s been. Let me see if I can think back and start from the beginning…

After a few months of searching, we finally found and choose our house. Before we could close, the sellers had to chip, prime and paint the outside and we gathered a group of loyal friends one Saturday and helped them out. It was both sad and exciting for me to see the big red SOLD sign displayed in the front yard; exciting that we were about to become homeowners and yet sad because I just didn’t love the house. I was prepared to seek contentment, but everything seemed too small, especially the kitchen. I did get (him) to agree to taking out part of the wall between the dining room and the kitchen so that we could put in a breakfast bar, but I was a smidge skeptical that the project would actually be accomplished.

I’m not sure what we were thinking, but the week we closed I took a trip to visit a friend in Chicago, we sold our vehicles (yup, the beast is gone) and bought two new ones and we adopted a new doggy. Our new lab/sheppard mix is named Mikey. She is a girl, but the boys named her. She is a lot bigger than Miku, and though I love her, she is eight months old and has been a handful. I suppose I can only blame myself for the craziness of the past weeks.

I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before, but once the sellers were moved out and we were given the keys it became apparent to me how much cleaning I was going to need to do before we could even begin to move things over. The floors and walls were covered in a film of drool and hair from the three massive dogs and two cats that were living here. (I am still fighting the smell of dog in parts of the house.)

Once most of the cleaning was done, and about a week after we closed the wall in the kitchen came down. (More cleaning came to follow.) As it turns out, I love the openness of it so much that we are scratching the breakfast bar idea… at least for now. And since we have moved in I have grown to love a whole lot more. The kitchen, which I thought I hated the most, is now one of my favorite spaces. I love cooking in there. Maybe it’s the dishwasher, or my hanging pot rack, but I enjoy being in there and have snuck in time to do some extra cooking and baking.

The upstairs bathroom is large, and the tub isn’t in the middle of the floor. The dining room is huge. I arranged the foyer and the living room so that they flow into each other well and so that they are open and spacious. We don’t have a coffee table any more and I’m liking the openness of that room as well. We have already had a group of people over and there was more than enough space. In reality, this place isn’t nearly as small as I had once thought it was. We are utilizing all four floors. The basement is where the kids play room and craft/school room is at, all of our bedrooms are on the second floor and the guest room and office/my craft room are up in the attic. The guest room is one of my other favorite spaces; It was fun to put together a room without having to make sure I wasn’t making it too girly. (He) won’t stand for many flowers or frills in our room; the guest room has been described as a “pretty room” by several.

I painted some walls and a lot of furniture before moving it inside. Darci’s room is shabby-chic-ish and adorable in every way. I put new fabric on several chairs in the house and all the rooms are coming together quite nicely.

We did a ton of “going through things” as we unpacked them and Stephen hauled several loads to the dump, the Salvation Army and we gave a ton of stuff away to friends and even some of our new neighbors. A family down the street took a couple of dressers and random things off of our hands and a couple next door took one of our car seats and some picture frames. I think some of the neighbors even went through our boxes of clothes before Stephen hauled them away. Yes, I said boxes (emphasize the plurality of it) of clothes. We really wanted to simplify things, have less stuff and de-clutter our lives a bit, so the unpacking process took a little bit longer and little bit more effort than normal.

I unpacked the last box the other day and out house is feeling a lot more like home; which, is a really good thing since I guess we won’t be moving out anytime soon.

Unable to help(her)

2010-05-11T09:30:00.004-05:00

One evening last week when returning home from painting the new place (which we are scheduled to close on at 9:00 AM this Friday) there was a female staggering across the street. We watched her struggle to walk, teeter on the edge of the sidewalk and nearly fall over. I jogged over to ask if she needed some help, but before I could finish my sentence she was draped over me and I assisted her across the road to sit on our front steps. Crying, muttering and slurring her words together, her story began to unfold…

She had been drinking with friends and for a reason unknown was kicked out of the house they were at. Her daughter and car keys remained inside and she was roaming the neighborhood convinced that someone was driving around in her car with her daughter in the back seat. She was clearly very intoxicated, angry and frightened. I offered my phone but she couldn’t manage to dial a working number. I asked if there was anywhere I could drive her to and without answering she jumped up in a stumbled attempt to run down the street… with my phone still in her hand. So, I ran after her (luckily it wasn’t difficult to catch up) and retrieved my phone. She kept running… right past a patrol car… and then back to my front steps. She though she had seen her car.

I tried to figure out how I could help, knowing I couldn’t just leave her out there, but it was difficult to get a coherent response to anything I asked or said. Again, in the middle of “conversation” she jumped up, staggered to the alley and hit the top of a car that was slowing to turn the corner. A woman angrily got out of her vehicle and began yelling. I quickly stepped toward her hoping to prevent her from clobbering the intoxicated woman. To my relief, the officer that had been on 15th a minute ago looped around and now joined us in the alley.

I wished that I could have helped her, found her daughter or taken her home to sleep it off… there was nothing I could do now but watch her get cuffed and sat in the back of the car with the red and blue flashing lights. I felt a little sad, and helpless, but it was out of my control… and sometimes, that’s just the way it is.

Voices at Voice Box(her)

2010-04-09T10:27:00.004-05:00

I am a faithful Voice Box audience member. I love going and listening to everyone perform and express themselves; you can learn a lot about a person when you give them a mic. Some people sing and others read poems or lyrics of their own or that of those they admire. Whatever they share it reveals a piece of them, sometimes bold and blunt and sometimes subtle or masked, but always a piece of who they are and what they believe.

There is a ton of talent at Voice Box. fiction and non-fiction writers, poets, musicians and hip-hop artists; it’s a very diverse crowd as is the subject matter. While I have heard some really wonderful work at Voice Box, I can’t help but be struck by the hopelessness there also.

Last night was the second time a poem was read about how Voice Box was the constant highlight of a persons weeks and the umpteenth time I listened to a rant about the disappointment and failures of love. I’ve heard anger and seen tears, I’ve listened to confessions of pain and loss and I’ve watched smile after smile mask sorrow, confusion and fear. Girls laugh as they refer to themselves as sluts and guys cheer for the one who is talking about booze and women. Real emotion is suppressed and the crowd goes wild at the mention of substances where joy and dependence can be found. Talent is lost behind anger or the hunt for a strong reaction and the one line that the crowd remembers is often the one that hides or diminishes the honesty of it’s author. So many voices are grasping for happiness with clenched fists, so many voices are drowning in loneliness.

Home sweet-in the ghetto-home(her)

2010-03-26T16:03:00.004-05:00

I was chatting with a friend this morning who is also looking to buy a house in the “ghetto” and she made a comment about how she thought it was easy for me to give up suburbia and move into the hood. Sadly, I had to admit the struggles and lack of faith I had when we were making that decision. A year later, and as we are about to close on our first home, I still sometimes struggle with the desire for a “nicer”, bigger “prettier” home in a “better” neighborhood, with a bigger yard and “safer” neighbors. Several of our friends live in gorgeous houses and sometimes I long for that. The houses around here… well they have a lot of character and will always be less than ideal.

It isn’t a nine bedroom, but we did find a house. It’s not to far from where we are now and while I really wasn’t in love with it, the house is starting to grow on me. It has a decent sized fenced yard (which will be awesome!) and a very large dining room (which is where we do the mass majority of our hosting). There is a second bathroom on the first floor and a possible 6th room in the basement. The kitchen is quite small, but we are going to knock out the wall between it and the dining room to open things up. There are actually a few renovations we will be making prior to moving in. We had our inspection yesterday and there doesn’t seem to be anything horrible, however there may be an issue with the roof that could affect FHA, so we had to amend the offer a tad. Stephen had a meeting with the bank today and finalized our loan. We ended up with a lower interest rate which knocked about $100 off our mortgage payments, so that was a blessing. I have enjoyed the times we have spent over at the house because the neighborhood has proved to be quite lively. Many of our neighbors appear to spend a lot of time out on their lawns and porches and there are folks out walking down the sidewalks too and so I am excited about the opportunities we will have to get to know our neighbors and other folks in the hood.

The sun brings life back to the “hood”(her)

2010-03-19T12:35:00.002-05:00

Snow has melted, sidewalks exist again and hints of green are evident. Halleluiah, it’s spring! When I leave Iowa someday… it will be to a much warmer place.

People around here hibernate in the winter. Now that sun is out, so are our neighbors. The streets are busy again, bass thumps through the air as the cars roll by with their windows down and the forgotten yet familiar sounds of laughter and hollering fill the neighborhood. Kids are running around, the park is lively and the gas station and Hy-vee parking lots are once again a place for gathering and hanging out. In the last week I have seen neighbors and friends I hadn’t seen since before the snow invaded our existence. Mo, (one of the first neibors we met after moving down here) waved to me from across the road as if last summer were just the other day. Life here is resuming. And I am once again feeling the excitement about living in the “hood”.

House Hunt(her)

2010-03-06T18:48:00.002-06:00

A couple months ago we began the journey of searching for that first and “perfect” home. We made the decision to purchase in or near the area we live in now and came up with a list of criteria. For us, size matters. We are hoping to find a home that is large enough not only for our clan, but for the ministry we do and hope to do. Extra rooms for teens or transients would be great and a space to continue our Wednesday dinners would be wonderful as well.

We have looked at a number of homes, but feel pulled toward one in particular. The location of this house is great and just couple blocks away; we would be able to continue to have a good presence in the neiborhood. And the home is more than large enough for hosting, taking people in and more. After prayer, consideration, looking at a few other houses, and a lot of back and fourth with the sellers, Stephen and our (wonderful) realtor drew up an offer.

That was over two weeks ago. The sellers of this house are in a bit of a financial bind and the entire process has been crazy and frustrating and ridiculuosuly long. At times we have waited over a week to get a response from the other party and at times we have just about given up. But God continues to give us both a sense of peace and patience (which is coming only from Him, cause if you know me I am an “all or nothing”, ”now or never” type of gal).

Last Thursday evening Stephen and I attended our church’s prayer group and we spend a little bit of time praying about this house. One of our friends asked that God would give us some kind of answer or direction even this week. On Friday I realized that the week was just about over and felt a bit of disappointment in my heart. On Saturday, Stephen read me an email from our realtor saying that their realtor would get back to us on Monday and that the owners are trying to determine if they can come up with the rest of what they owe beyond our offer (they owe more than the house is worth). The email also informed us that if they don’t sell before then, the house will be auctioned by police on the last day of this month.

There are so many directions things could go from here, and we really want to rest in God’s goodness regardless of the outcome. Will you pray with us about this house? If it’s God’s will that this should be our new haven, please pray that things work out in our favor. And if not, please pray that He would reveal a house to us when the time is right. And also, please pray for the sellers, that things would work out for them in a way that minimizes their loss.

We’ll keep you posted…

Signs(her)

2010-01-18T11:58:00.002-06:00

I’m not going to go into too many details about the protest, but if you were there, or if you passed by Theater Cedar Rapids last Friday evening you would have seen a variety of opinions displayed along First Avenue.
A massive crowd turned out to counter Fred Phelps and his “Primitive Baptist” claims. The “god hates gay” campaign was not well received and community members of all types joined together against the hateful and misconstrued message that Phelps and his followers parade throughout the country.
It was certainly interesting to see the varying responses to Phelps, some really didn’t know what they actually believed, some were looking for a reason to be in the spotlight, some were just as hateful, some appeared confident that god does not exist, and others proclaimed the Love of Christ for ALL people…

I didn’t have an opportunity to make my own signs, but if I had, they might have said…

God loves EVERYONE!

Jesus died for ALL sins!

I have sin too!

God loves what He created!

Come as you are!

Who am I to judge, God calls us to love.

Too cold to walk(her)

2010-01-14T15:08:00.007-06:00

As is evident every few posts, sometimes I question our move to this side of town, I question my identity. I question my worth. The last couple of weeks have been a roller coaster of emotion for me and I realized the other day that I was drifting from the One who loves me the most. Afraid of what He might ask me to do next I had been pushing His voice aside. But God will not go unheard. With or without my cooperation He will achieve His purpose. I don’t know what the future holds, but I will no longer fear it. Trust can be so difficult (is that just me?), but I know that He is the only one who loves me unconditionally. The only One who always wants what is best. The One who’s hand all that happens to me passes through. The One who knows me through and through. The One who sees all. The One who hears my silent tears. The Only one who gives true joy. The only One who gives life, eternal life. The One who came for His children and who died for them. The One whose name is above all names. The One who is mighty and just. The One who has gone before me and whose Word brings comfort and hope.
---
There was a terrible scream outside. Actually, at first I thought it was one of the kids up in the attic. Just as my heart started to pound the three of my boys came hurrying down the stairs to see if I knew where the screaming was coming from. It sounded like a child. I flung open the front door and darted onto the porch, my heart still beating at a strong and quickened pace. Out on the side walk I saw a little boy, about Brice’s age. My mind frantically searched for an answer and I thought maybe his sister was just kidnapped or something. I was outside now and ran toward him. Just as I approached him I saw a woman turn the corner. “Does he belong to you?” I asked, steadying my voice as best I could. Sure enough, he did. Two more kids appeared around the corner and I asked the woman if everything was OK. Her son (the one who was apparently screaming) kept saying that he did not want to walk anymore, and she explained that they had just walked from Glass Road (about a 30 minute walk without three children) and were about to walk all the way back. A "friend” borrowed her car and wasn’t returning it. Once I knew everything was OK, I went back inside the house. As I bolted the door…
God let me know that I was going to give them a ride home. So, back outside I went. I offered them a ride home and invited them in while I got my kidos ready to go (my husband was at class). I had just made hot cocoa for the boys and offered it to our new friends, two of the children drank some down. I got Darci out of her bed, we put our coats on and then we all loaded up in the van. During our drive the kids chattered happily in the back and I got to know the woman a bit. She is a divorced single mom who is going to school to be a nurse. She has a brother and parents who live out-of-state. I asked her if she went to a church anywhere. “No, do you?” she responded. And I told her about Imago. She said she would stop by my house sometime to get the church address and info, though I haven’t seen her yet.
After I dropped them off, I remembered that my gas guage was on "E" when I last parked the van. Glancing at the tiny line that rested well below the red, I thanked the Lord that we did not end up gasless on the side of the road. And although I am sure we should not have been able to drive that far, we made it to the gas station.
---
At the moment I needed it the most, God reminded me why I live in the “ghetto”. More importantly, He reminded me that my identity is in Him and it is because of Him that I live, and because of that, I want to live for Him. We have nothing in this life without Him, and all that we see will one day be no more. He has control over everything, even that darn van of mine that just won’t die (despite my desire for a new minivan). :) Without all the extra room I would not have been able to drive four extra people out to Glass Road the other night. God knows what we need much better than we do, and when He asks us to do something, He will see us through it, He will provide a way, and He knows the outcome.

Sex for money(her)

2010-01-12T20:41:00.002-06:00

It isn’t nearly as uncommon as it should be. Since living here on the south side even my husband has been approached twice now with the notion. This time, it was by a male. (He) made a late night stop at the gas station across the street and ran into (or was encounter by) a man in need of some cash. The guy mentioned something about needing to get to Philly, but (he) was keen on the fact that some type of addiction was more likely closer to the truth.
My first reaction was to be utterly horrified; and I remained that way for a moment. It wasn’t until the sorrow of his sad, hopeless and pathetic desperation sank in that I felt comfortable with the idea of Stephen having invited him to Wednesday dinner.
I have a lot of doubt that he will show up tomorrow night. The man wasn’t much concerned with making a friend or with a free meal.
I can’t help but cry for him; pray for him.

50 degrees and dropping(her)

2010-01-07T17:30:00.006-06:00

The title does not refer to the temperature outside, rather to the reading of our thermometer yesterday. Grumpy and cold is how I spent the first half of my Wednesday. And a portion of the second half was spent fixing the problem ourselves after the failed attempt of two “professionals”. So many many adventures we have ~~endured~~ experienced in our haven. This whole freezing thing though is a bit much for me...

It all began, well, when the temps outside got cold I suppose. The lack of insulation coupled with the many cracks and holes in the walls and surrounding the windows and doors makes our haven double quite well as a very large ice box. The monster of a furnace downstairs runs at around thirty percent efficiency. It’s an old gravity furnace that someone at some point rigged a fan to that now blows the warm air up through the many and massive metal pipes. Unfortunately, no matter what we set the thermostat at, the thermometer has yet to reach 70 degrees, and some spots are much colder than others. As long as the pilot light is on, what little heat it produces will rise and the house isn't too bad. But when the fuse blew yesterday and the monster shut down completely... I was so cold, and literally in tears. It might be chilly right now, but I'm just happy my toes aren't blue.

We have been able to take some measures to assist the heating and avoid turning into icecycles. We removed the thermostat from the wall for instance; some genius mounted it right into a heat duct. And we have been collecting space heaters that we strategically place and utilize. We were actually given another space heater the other day by a friend I really don’t even know very well. I had been listening to a group of women talk about the struggle to keep their homes warm and decided to chime in. Of course, this led to a conversation of why we live in this old run down house on the southside of the tracks in the first place, and to my surprise, we weren't just offered a free space heater, but a donation to our Wednesday night dinners as well. Once again, God made known His presence, purpose and provision in our crazy life here in the “hood”.

The end of 2009(her)

2010-01-01T23:48:00.003-06:00

Christmas was awesome. We traveled to just outside of Chicago and stayed in a resort that had an indoor water park and amusement park. The kidos had an absolute blast. My favorite amenity though was right inside of our bedroom; the whirlpool. Unfortunately, we had to come back home. We did stop at a fun museum on the way back though. The best part about our trip… we didn’t have anywhere to be at any time. We could lounge around whenever we wanted. It was truly a fabulous Christmas, and I think I am sensing the start of a tradition.
I uploaded some of the photos from our trip on flickr, so be sure to check them out.
Christmas Photos 2009

We celebrated the new year in a neat way. We co-hosted a wine and hors d’oeuvres party and traveled to a few other homes for yummy food and good times... another tradition in the making.

Next week life will tumble back into a normal routine (whatever that means), and 2009 will be just another book on the shelf. It was a crazy story, with the best of chapters. We found Imago and God has blessed us with new and wonderful friends. We moved into the hood, where God has taught, blessed, challenged and strengthened our faith on a day by day basis. The boys started attending morning classes at the elementary (and I have had more time than I am disciplined enough to use well). Stephen began a new position at AEGON and we finally developed and have stuck to a budget. I have taken up photography. We spent a month over the summer at Young Life camp. We got our Blackberry's. :) Stephen turned 30 (and I am only one year away. sigh), and our baby turned one.
Yes, it was a crazy year. Difficult and wonderful. Our family made some tough choices and saw some rough moments, but God has proved good throughout each. I can’t tell you how much God has shown His love to us in the past year. I have come to understand that it is not for the love of God that I live, but because of it. As a wise and wonderful friend has been reminding me… God loves me, and there is no one in the world who can fulfill His place in my life. I can’t imagine the last year without Him.

The fish that clogged the toilet(her)

2009-12-13T09:30:00.002-06:00

It was rather unfortunate that we spent our Saturday dealing with a clogged toilet. There was poop, there was plunging, there were three different plumbers and for ten hours there were no results. My poor bladder suffered dearly. The last plumber told us that the floor in the bathroom of this ever-so-wonderful haven of ours was rotting (which we already knew) and he was not willing to remove and replace the toilet because the floor may not be able to support it. The landlord said that he would look into replacing the floor sometime next week, and then we could replace the toilet. And in the meantime, he would give us a key to the Music Loft (the storefront that our home is behind) so that we could use the facilities there. Oh my word, that just wasn’t going to do. He did suggest to the plumber to hook up the scary toilet in basement… the one that the city told him to take out… luckily, the plumber wouldn’t do that either. Evening was approaching and Stephen decided to take matters into his own hands. He called up some guys (thanks Brandon and Paul) and they took the toiled off, pulled out a plastic toy fish (stored in there for safe keeping by our dear Nevan) and got the toilet hooked back up and now… we can use the potty.
As it turns out, like most things in this house, the toilet wasn’t installed correctly, and it had been leaking into the floor boards… thus the smell of urine that I have been battling for months now. Just one more thing to fix in this haven… (sigh)

There’s no more denying it(her)

2009-12-02T15:44:00.002-06:00

I feel old. 30 always seemed soooooooo far away, and now, all of the sudden… BAM! 30 will hit me in just one short year. Sigh. It really wouldn’t be so bad if turning 29 hadn’t come during the very season of life when my body has seemingly begun to fall apart...
When I wake up in the morning I have to stretch, otherwise, I won’t be getting very far. By the end of the night my back aches and my neck feels sore. My eyes are REALLY bad and I probably shouldn’t even drive at night cause I’m pretty sure that the stop lights aren’t supposed to have huge fuzz balls surrounding them. And oh, how I can’t stay up late anymore, or I’ll be paying for it for the following two afternoons.
I should work out. I’m too tired right now though, so I’ll go see what’s in the fridge. :)

A Different Kind of Mom(her)

2009-11-19T10:43:00.004-06:00

It is a sweet sweet sound to hear the squeaky voice of a five year old praying before bed. Just as sweet is the chunky little face of a one year old smothering you in slobbery kisses. I love my job as a mom. Nurturing, however, is not typically a word that others use to describe me. I am not the mom who’s favorite pastime is cuddling up with Pooh’s big adventure and a story about the big red dog. Movies and blankets are for sick days in my home and sympathy is not something I usually have in reserve. I am the mom who has to schedule book time or it just wont happen. I have to really focus and make a great effort to talk in depth with my children about how so-in-so did this and that on the playground and how the Lego tower from yesterday was a castle where a mighty prince fought a fierce dragon, otherwise, my mind would be in a zillion other places. I am the mom who is never prepared and you’ll never see me toting place mats and utensils to the park. I am OK with a messy face and dirty jeans. My kids have to ask me to tuck them in most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m affectionate. I love hugs and kisses, I’m just not instinctively nurturing or patient. I am also not all that even keeled, scheduled or routine. I am however pretty creative, energetic, optimistic, adventurous and purposeful. And I do spend loads of quality time with my kidos too… Getting muddy in the woods, last minute out-of-town day trips, make-em-up-as-you-go games and living room dance parties are more my style...

Video quality is poor, but check out Trent, he’s got some great moves! And yes, the living room was rearranged from the time of the first viseo to the second. If you know me, I really enjoy change too. It's always an exciting day in the haven when we are rearanging a room. :)

My Jumper Cables(her)

2009-11-09T11:33:00.002-06:00

Last Wednesday evening a friend from the neighborhood stopped by to see if we could give him a jump. We had no idea what all saying yes would entail… Apparently, if you turned his car off, it wouldn’t come back on. We had three knocks on our door that night before Stephen decided to just let him take the cables. We haven’t seen him or the cables since.
They are just jumper cables, but I had a difficult time letting them go. I think in In part because my dad gave them to me, you know, one of those “I care about you and want you to be safe” moments. And, admittedly in larger part because I often care way to much about having stuff.
I had given a pair of jumper cables away to another friend from the neighborhood about a month ago. That was easy, they were my spares. I had plenty and it was no big thing to give out of my abundance. This time however, it left me without, and the sad truth is that my initial reaction was not one of a cheerful giver.

God’s decision(her)

2009-10-17T00:46:00.002-05:00

“Ann” moved out a couple of weeks ago. We have maintained a good relationship, and she knows that our door is always open. It was her choice. She wasn’t ready for stability.
Last week we received a phone call about a woman named Dawn who needed a place to stay while she got back on her feet. We had her over on Tuesday night for dinner and got to know each other a bit. Concluding our evening, and although we think she is very nice, we had a couple of reservations and concerns which effected our decision to invite her into our home. Wanting to have hearts that were willing to be obedient we talked, prayed and sought council. We still weren't sure what decision to make. (He) eventually decided that he was OK with either decision and wanted to know what I wanted to do. I was having a difficult time determining whether or not my “issues” were personal. I really desired a willing heart and so on Thursday, I decided that I would tell (him) to go ahead and invite Dawn into our haven. When (he) got home from work, and before I could even say a word, he shared with me a voice mail he had received saying that Dawn, while she was very thankful, had gotten into the House of Hope.
God always works out what is best for us.

Comfort is a Matter of PerceptionAnd Perceptions Can be Changed(her)

2009-10-15T17:43:00.002-05:00

I was laying in bed with (him) this morning, comfortable and soothed by the sound of rubber rolling over the wet pavement outside, the occasional siren, honking and putter of the cars and trucks below. All of the sounds that were once unfamiliar and frightening now make up the ambiance I love and call home. Put me back in the suburbs and I’d probably lay awake all night in the uncomfortable silence. I wonder what else I really could live without, have differently, do differently, learn to love… If only I’d step out and let go.

A gift of remembrance(her)

2009-10-12T19:20:00.002-05:00

(Him) and I celebrated our anniversary last Wednesday, actually, we did the celebrating on Saturday. We went to dinner at the Olive Garden (thanks Steph and Christian!) and then we visited the Campbell Steele Gallery in Marion and enjoyed music, the art and a glass of wine. The greatest gift that evening was a moment of remembrance…
A friend and former pastor of ours had written an article that included a snapshot of our story and gave it to us on Friday to read over. My eyes filled with tears as I read the words that described our past and rejoiced over our presence. It was such a gift and blessing to remember where we were, and where we came from, and to know where we are today. Sometimes, in the midst of life and all its fullness, it is difficult to see beyond the flaws we have now, we are thankful to have been reminded of all we have to celebrate. I love (him) dearly and I thank God for all that He has done in our lives.

Stability(her)

2009-09-27T23:07:00.002-05:00

How do you teach stability? We can offer stability, but as we are experiencing, that doesn’t mean it will be received. “Ann” stays out late, really late, and sleeps till long after noon; sometimes till evening. She doesn’t eat meals with us and she hasn’t turned in her job applications. Her friendships come and go on a daily basis.
How do we teach stability… lovingly? Do we have those tough love conversations, or do we continue to encourage her silently; modeling stability (as best we can)?

Walk for the Community(her)

2009-09-24T22:45:00.002-05:00

We participated in the Walk for the Community event that took place on Thursday night. We had a table set up for Young Life and Imago had a table set up too. It was a good time. Did some reconnecting, a few Young Life kids came, the walk itself was pretty cool and it was a great opportunity to meet some of our “neighbors”. Oh, and my boys made it on TV. :)

Offering Hope(her)

2009-09-24T20:55:00.002-05:00

About two weeks ago we had a young friend, who I will call Ann, move into our haven. She is a Young Life alumni who went to camp with me a few years ago. Recently, Ann aged out of foster care and I ran into her here in the neighborhood. We got to talking and she shared that she was staying here and there, wherever she could (I’ll save the issue I have with the foster care system and a wide number of foster parents for another post!). The only food she had had was whatever they served for lunch the previous afternoon at the mission (Mission of Hope on First Ave).

Stephen and I talked it over and decided that we wanted to offer Ann a place to stay. The computer room upstairs is now also a guest room and Ann has her own dresser and bed etc. It was a daunting task, but I got the doors put back on up there so she has some privacy too.

Our hope… that through the way we live Ann might see “a different way”. We want to help her get a job, go to school, develop some self worth and esteem, and most of all we hope to share with her the Hope that was once shared with us.

Yes, there is a need in Cedar Rapids, Iowa(her)

2009-09-12T12:48:00.003-05:00

Time and time I hear it, “there aren’t any poor people in Cedar Rapids”. Can I be so bold to tell you to drive on over to the SE side, yes… past 19th Street. It’s no Chicago, but poverty does exist.

I work with youth from this neighborhood and I have been in their homes, I have paid their bills, I have driven their parents to WIC appointments and taken them to the grocery store to make purchases on their food stamp cards. I know that inside these large old homes multiple families are crammed with little furniture and not enough beds. I have fed kids when they haven’t had anything to eat. I have prayed for them each time they have been evicted because rent can not be paid. I have spent time and energy tracking families down who don’t have homes and live from friend to friend and shelter to shelter. I have helped families to get clothing and school supplies. All of this because they can not afford it.

From our porch we can see the poverty in this community. People wander the streets looking for money, people pushing shopping carts up and down the road, children without shoes or coats. We have filled up gas tanks and provided food to our “neighbors”. All of this because they can not afford it.

Yes, some have jobs and some do not, and everyone has a story. But please don’t deny that there are people in this city who are in need.

Normal life resumes in the haven(her)

2009-08-24T16:29:00.003-05:00

Back from camp, healthy, school has started and life is once again beating to a steady rhythm. Fall is rapidly approaching, though I’m not quite certain what happened to summer; two blinks and the days are already cooler, the pools are closing and although we did things, I’m having a difficult time recalling what I actually accomplished over the last few months. My cupboards STILL aren’t painted and I hardly got any writing done.

Thus far, my favorite thing about this new season is that all three of the boys are in morning classes (yes, I did say ALL THREE). Is that totally wrong? At first I wasn’t sure what in the world I would do with myself, but it took about an hour to resolve that. In addition to homeschooling, I have them dual enrolled so they get to go to school each morning for either art, music or gym, a reading block, lunch and recess. On a “normal” day, I’ll pick them up, we’ll do the homeschool thing, and then we have down time till dad gets home, who by the way no longer works a second job.

She's Married (him)

2009-07-19T20:52:00.003-05:00

(She) is attractive. No doubt about it. Typically I do not feel threatened when men hit on her. I know she thinks it's cheesy and I know she thinks I'm the awesomest thing since Wikipedia. So, I know that even when tempted by more valid sources of strength, handsomeness, and knowledge she will inevitably choose me. (I must digress for a moment: From jokeped.com - "Before sliced bread, people used to say, 'That's the greatest thing since Chuck Norris.' But Chuch Norris was displeased by this. So he round house kicked a loaf of bread." And we all know what that got us.)

Seriously though, it's funny how many guys around here know my wife. One day, I was trying to get into my house and a guy walking by said something like, "Oh, you live here too?" I replied, "Uh...yeah, I guess." Then, "Do you know that girl that lives here?" "If you mean my wife, then yes." "Oh, she's your wife? Tell her I said 'what's up.'" And this last part was said with no more or less impact or tone than any of the previous words he's spoken. This was very humorous to me.

Because I am confident in my wife's response, I typically interpret the flirtations of other men toward her as flattering to myself. Not to say that I have never been jealous or don't come rescue her, I just don't think I'm ever going to be in a position to be flattered on my own merits. Better to live vicariously, than not at all.

I'm Married(her)

2009-06-29T11:19:00.006-05:00

For weeks, there was this guy who every time I saw him, weather at the grocery store across the street, at McDonald's, or walking to or from my van, would ask me for my "digits". No kidding... every time I saw him (or he saw me anyway); with my kids, with out them, ironically enough, I never saw him when my husband was around. My reply to his request was always the same; I am married and I love my husband very much. Sometimes he would respond by telling me that what my husband didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Sometimes he would say that I was pretty and he just wanted to call me. And sometimes he would just walk away in frustration. It's a whole other culture down here, one where married coupes are the minority, commitment is conditional and divorce is a solution.

One muggy afternoon I was unloading my troops and my persistent neighbor approached me with the same question. This time, after the same "I'm married" response, he looked up at me and asked "are you in a church or something?" "Well, I do go to a church" I responded. It was as if a light bulb flickered on in his head; as if he realized there was something different about me, about us, about the way I said "I'm married". And amazingly enough, he related it to church, and in essence, to Jesus. I have seen him since, and we have even exchanged a few words, thankfully, he has finally stopped asking me for my "digits".

I did overhear him asking another gal in the grocery store for her number and her response was also "I'm married." I'm hoping that he doesn't ask her again; that "I'm married" might start to take on a new meaning for him; for our community.

PS In case you are wondering, this last week has been good. Not a whole lot in my surroundings has changed, but my decision to choose joy, to love anyway and to stick with it has made all the difference. And you know what, God has even blessed me with a new friendship. So thanks, for your prayers, emails and encouragement; I am not feeling so Rejected.

PSS I changed our RSS feed to display our full posts, just for you Andy. :)

Rejected(him)

2009-06-25T23:10:00.003-05:00

It's difficult to watch someone you love struggle with feeling unwanted. I want to say, "Forget it. Who cares!" Sometimes I actually do say something like that. Let me just say that it never has the intended affect.

She was very angry with me for some reason, but I could tell it wasn't about me. When I used the word rejected and saw her tearing up, I knew the word resonated. My heart sunk. I've been praying the she would find some friends after giving up many active friendships to move to Imago and downtown.

Even though I am often saddened to see her burdened heart, I was elated when I read "I can still choose joy, and patience and love, and today I am making that choice."

It's been great to hear her talk of some recent conversations she has had with some ladies at the church.

Rejected(her)

2009-06-15T14:49:00.005-05:00

(He) said something yesterday that really struck a chord with me. The word pulled at my heart and I realized that rejected is the exact description of what I am feeling. It has been a few months now and I continue to struggle to penetrate the surface and build deeper relationships at church. Life in the north side has continued without us and maintaining relationships has been difficult. My family has declared that our neighborhood is unsafe and they will not come to our house because they think it is too dangerous. I have been lonely, and angry, and frustrated with God lately.

(He) gave me the OK to return to our old church on Sunday mornings. There is a part of me that wants to. My heart however can not forget the Lord's call for us to be where we are. In all things, I believe that God is in complete control. When it's time, I know this season will pass. And in the meantime I have decided to pursue my greatest friends; Jesus, and my husband. I started a journal today; I think that's going to be the best way for me to see the path He is leading me on and to remember His goodness by. And as for (him), tonight is his last Monday at Carlos and we have committed to having date nights every Monday here on out.

I know that my struggle with the feeling of rejection is not over, but I also know that it is time for an attitude change. I can still choose joy, and patience and love, and today I am making that choice (yes honey, you can refer to this public declaration as needed... although it could be wiser not to... I'm just sayin).

I need Christ (him)

2009-06-09T15:58:00.005-05:00

Life is stressful. And it often gets to me. In the last few weeks, I've had to apologize to a couple people at my part time job for being rude and almost got the crap beaten out of me by a guy nearly twice my size for mouthing off. (I was actually stupid enough to go outside with him to "talk".)

Suffice to say, I was not thinking about emulating Christ or relying on Him to get me through the day at those moments.

I've never been great at spending a lot of time reading my Bible or fervently praying. I need to do those things SO much more. But I do have a couple things going for me that keep me closer to Christ than I would be otherwise.

I do a lot of reading and then contemplating what I'm reading. It helps me to consider what I see in scriptures and shake loose or refine any patterns of thinking that I have or hold to, but don't really know why I have them.

I also get to do this in conversations with others. I love to talk about theology and spiritual things. But it's talking about what theology should mean in our lives, or the practice of theology that is of real benefit to my relationship with Christ. And it's really only in the latter of those two conversations that I connect myself to Christ and His church.

These two things get me by, but there is far more intimacy available to me (and us) through study, meditation, and prayer and through community with others (read mostly believers but not necessarily exclusively).

Can I live life, even a rewarding life, without Christ? Probably. I meet a lot of people who do. I say that with a few caveats most of our readers will acknowledge or understand. But I sincerely believe that I can live life neither to the fullest and richest extent nor to the standards that are somehow within me without the filling, usurping, consuming presence of and relationship with Jesus Christ, my friend and savior.

I need Christ(her)

2009-05-28T11:15:00.007-05:00

Thankfully, (he) did not cut the cheese at dinner last night. And while (he) may have been "joking" don't put it past him to bring up a poop story or something equally as awkward to ease the tension. And while my face burns with embarrassment, I must admit that (his) boldly bizarre tactics actually fulfill their purpose; a good laugh about poop and people start talking openly and freely.

Dinner went well last night. we took some time before our guests arrived and prayed together about the evening. I needed that for myself more than anything...

Tuesday was stressful. I woke up on Tuesday more than slightly worn out from a busy weekend. Club is on Tuesday's. I only had one Leader that night. Since there were only two of us, I had to pick up a "bus" full of kids literally from one end of town to another. I was crabby. Really crabby. To top it off, I got lost. I had to turn around and found myself at the intersection of 1st Ave and Edgewood Road. It was there that my finger (and not my pointer) was waving itself at some other vehicle. I hadn't done that in years, and I pray that the poor woman has forgotten it. I am ashamed and I am sorry and people... that is who I am without Christ.

Sometimes life gets busy and I get tired and things don't go as planned... and when I stop relying on Him... no matter how hard I try, I just can't handle things on my own. Thus, it was good to pray before dinner last night. It went well. I was not crabby, and so my finger behaved (thankfully, because that probably isn't the best way to make friends or keep them coming back to Wednesday Night's).

A Seat for Everyone(him)

2009-05-26T21:43:00.004-05:00

I echo (her) sentiments that it would be wonderful to sit at a table at which everyone is comfortable, regardless of race, color, creed, etc.

For now though, I humbly admit that I am often uncomfortable around folks that are not like myself. There are some differences that we have taught ourselves to find divisive-money, race, religion, politics. It just happens that race and color are often the most obvious. But, again, I struggle with a lot of other things as well. I struggle with not knowing what to talk about, with feeling like I am inadequate, with feeling like I'm better, with feeling like there's something wrong, with thinking that someone else thinks I'm inferior, etc, etc. Everyone struggles with these things to one degree or another.

And when we're not struggling with these things directly, there's probably some tension because everyone is thinking about the things that might cause tension and wonder if, indeed, those things are at play. At times like these, I find it's best just to pass gas and make sure everyone knows by saying so. Everyone can relate to that and it really takes their minds off of the other stuff. Before that moment has even passed though, another best practice of mine is to just start asking questions until something resonates.

Once there is something in common, something most of the people can identify with, conversation gets a lot easier and there is an opportunity for people to see past their differences and enjoy what they have in common. I think once we're comfortable with our commonalities, we can really start to enjoy, even revel in, our differences.

And seriously, while I don't actually break the cheese to break the ice, it definitely can help to bring up something funny that everyone can identify with.

A seat for everyone(her)

2009-05-21T10:19:00.003-05:00

Anthony was here for dinner last night. He arrived later and we were already eating when he came, but it was our pleasure to pull up a chair and fix him a plate of food. He talked and shared a bit about his work and family but didn't have a whole lot to say and he did leave pretty early; it was huge though that he came at all. After all of our guests had left Anthony came back and chatted with Stephen for a bit while I stepped out to get my hair done (Thanks Amanda. Love havin a friend who's a stylist. Oh, and I got my brows waxed for the first time too... ouch.). Anyhow, before I left Anthony told me that I'd see him next Wednesday and he'll be bringing his daughters too. I am looking forward to that. I was wondering if it was at all uncomfortable for our new friend to be here, so I'm glad that he wants to come back. I am also curious as to what our other friends thought about Anthony being here... I can't wait until the table is so diverse that there aren't any outsiders and awkwardness isn't an issue.

Picture Day

2009-05-18T00:00:00.003-05:00

Lending a helping hand(her)

2009-05-17T00:00:00.003-05:00

Women, it seems, do not ask for things from strangers, at least not as openly and as often as men do. My role thus far has been mainly to support (him) as he lends (his) helping hand. I did get to plate up some food for a guy (he) met last week. And since writing (his) last post, he has met another one of our neighbors here in the hood.

I worked a shift for (him) at Carlos this past Thursday evening. When I came home at about 11:30 PM (he) was on the porch with a man (he) introduced to me as Anthony. It was Anthony's birthday and I'm pretty sure that Anthony spent most of his day drinking, and I'm thinking it wasn't lemonade. We spent the next hour talking and getting to know our new friend. He had much to say. As it turns out, it wasn't our first encounter with Anthony. Last Sunday night after spending time with friends we stood outside in the alley talking with one of (his) buddy's for a bit. Across the street we watched two guys get pulled over... while walking. It was very interesting to me that you could be pulled over while walking down a sidewalk (never saw that on the north side). Anthony admitted that one of those men was him, however not the one who tried running because he had a warrant and was thrown down on the ground by three officers. (Yup, we watched the whole shebang.)

Anthony was very verbal about that night. It was interesting to hear the mentality of the people down here and to get some insight as to where they are coming from. Anthony insisted that we were good people and said that he would be back. Maybe Wednesday night (we haven't seen him since), even though he said he'd be by to hang out with Stephen this morning. I figure, if not sooner, Anthony will be back by when he feels like asking for more money.

(He) made another mistake. (He) stinks at saying no. We talked afterward about the absolute necessity of setting boundaries. There are a lot of reasons we shouldn't hand money out, including our safety.

It's so hard to know people's motives. And we want to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. And we certainly don't want to be judging anyone. It's just as difficult to know what boundaries need to be set, and to take action when they are being crossed. It's easy to talk to our neighbors, most of them have been waiting for someone to listen. It's knowing what role to take in the relationship that is more difficult.

I agree with (him). I want to help with real physical needs and not just hand out money. We could have done that from the suburbs. I want to really get to know people. And I look forward to the day when someone asks why we have so much hope in this life that seems so hopeless.

Lending a helping hand(him)

2009-05-16T08:00:00.002-05:00

So far our opportunities to offer tangible help have been somewhat limited. Not to say that we haven't been on the lookout; we just haven't seen the opportunities.

But there have been a couple things... A guy named Moe used to hang out on the street (haven't seen him in several weeks) and I would chat with him occasionally. One night when I was going to move my van he asked me for a ride. I checked with Tiffanie and then drove him home a couple miles away. On the way, I made a mistake, but more about that in a sec.

Another time, he asked me for a ride to work or cash for a bus, but because we had about a dozen people in the house at the time, I told him I couldn't drive him.

On another occasion, a guy walked up to me at night (I was standing outside talking to a friend)and asked for money for gas. I told him I didn't have any money for him, but that I would gladly fill up a gas can (which I provided). I gave him the 5 gallons and said all I wanted was the can back. He brought it the next day. I still wonder if he was really looking for booze money and got punished with carrying 5 gallons of gas 5 blocks back to his house.

Speaking of booze, the mistake I made with Moe was giving him money for booze. I even asked if that was what it was for and caved to his request. Oh, well. In response to my mistake, (she) and I agreed to not give any money at all, but instead to meet whatever need the money is requested for. We know that this will be extremely challenging. It's much easier to hand out money. But we moved here, in part, because we did not like that mentality.

So, our goal is to meet expressed/physical needs while looking for folks' spiritual needs. I invite anyone with experiences in this area or in a neighborhood like ours to let us know ways we can be on the lookout or sharpen our eyes.

Living our (busy) lives with others (him)

2009-05-14T22:02:00.002-05:00

I'm a terrible blogger. (She) has been reminding me that I made a commitment to do this with her. It's partly because I'm not naturally inclined to remembering (anything...in general), but on top of that, I'm SO busy. Juggling two jobs, church commitments, and most importantly time with my family is, well, I'll give an equation. My used time in the week = 24 * 7 - (approx 8 hours). The eight hours is 4 hours on Wed night and 2 hours each on Saturday and Sunday that I can (somewhat selfishly) squeeze out for myself. ((She) probably gets less than that.) So that's 4.7% of the week not spoken for and here's my key to sanity...

I give half of that on Wednesday nights. (She) said it right, we get energized around people. Not that it's not sometimes stressful or tiring to have people over on Wednesday nights, but the conversation, hanging out, and entertaining others inexplicably rejuvinates me. I'm so thankful for each and every person that comes to share a meal with us. I'd say the need to connect with others (and God) is one of the central characteristics of humans and it's great to get a little closer to someone every Wednesday night.

We're looking forward to some new guests next Wednesday. By the way, if you're reading this, you're welcome to stop on by. Shoot us an email and we'll give you directions.

Living our (busy) lives with others(her)

2009-05-06T15:06:00.004-05:00

Life has been full. Four kids alone are enough to keep me pretty occupied, and yet we have more going on than that. Luckily, we both get energized by people, because we have seen a lot of people lately...

Last Friday night was the Young Life banquet, which I think went very well. The committee did a fabulous job of planning the event and it was a lot of fun. Yesterday we had five new youth at Club. Speaking of which, we are now having Club every week. On Thursday's I have been taking teens to Voice Box, an open mic poetry slam happening at the Paul Engels Center Thursday nights at nine (you should check it out). My young friends have really enjoyed it and several have stepped up to the mic. Last Saturday we met our church's pastoral candidate and his wife for the first time and then we had them over for lunch on Sunday. We really enjoyed getting to know them and I'll admit that I am really hoping God has a place for them here. I love our church's vision and heart and being a part of it all has been a tremendous experience. Family dinners have been going well. I am actually pretty excited about tonight because we invited some new people and I love that. It's been awesome sharing meals with people. (He) is passionate about bringing all of our circles together, so we have church friends, friends from work, people from the neighborhood (and wherever else), over for dinner. I love it. Myself and another have been working to put together a youth ministry proposal for Imago and excited doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about that. Yesterday was the last MOPS meeting of the year. Sad. But I am eager to crack open the 2009 MOPS cookbook; there are over 1,100 recipes in that thing! This morning a friend came over and we chatted while the kidos played (or whinnied at us). Despite all the doing, I don't feel spread thin. In fact, I have enjoyed some pretty sweet moments in recent days. Monday night after the core team meeting we had the pastoral candidate and his wife and another couple over and just talked. We ended our evening in prayer and it was just another awesome time of fellowship and friendship. I've said this often, but I love that church isn't just a Sunday activity for us anymore. Just love it. We might be busy, but I love that we are living our lives with others.

Hell in the Haven(him)

2009-04-26T21:49:00.003-05:00

I never have a clue when I'm about to get in a fight with my wife. Well, slight correction, I have plenty of clues that I'm in trouble. I just never know what led up to me receiving those clues. I should though because while I do plenty of things that annoy her, there's really only a couple things that cause such tension in her that I push her into "not going to put up with it anymore" territory.

You'd think that a wise and intelligent man like myself would figure it out and avoid those things. Alas, either I am incapable of changing my behavior or I am neither wise nor intelligent. As I often reluctantly confess to my wife: I consent to you now that I am, in fact, capable of changing my behavior. This is depressing; it means I am neither wise nor intelligent and as a result cannot figure out how to avoid doing things that totally piss my wife off.

In all seriousness though, it is depressing to me that I so consistently do things that are hurtful to my wife. Whether in absentmindedness or blatant disregard, I do the things that I do not want to do or often do not do the things that I know I should do.

No one likes to think of themselves as selfish, but this is what I am: a selfish man. And any time it's pointed out, I respond with self-righteousness and/or anger. And in the midst of my self-defense and building myself up, I even know that I am not right. Yet I will not relent, often hurting her more in the process.

May God help me to see myself for what I am and grant me both the humility to admit it and the grace to change.

Hell in the haven(her)

2009-04-23T13:47:00.010-05:00

Been waiting on (him) to put up a post... decided to stop waiting; I know all three of our readers are just dying for more news from the hood... :)

Man, being married is tough sometimes. And just when things are going along so nicely... all hell seems to break loose.

Here in our haven, hell visited us last Sunday...

Sometimes I have great expectations. And almost always I fail to see the need to specifically communicate those expectations. And most of the time (he) fails to meet my expectations.

I was so mad I didn't even want to be near (him) in our bed. I marched upstairs with a blanket and nestled on the couch. Turning on the TV I found myself watching a late night Christian broadcasting and was intrigued by the female trio who were no doubt from the early 80's and singing about judging, forgiveness and the log in your own eye. It wasn't long before I lay there sobbing; I knew God meant for me to forgive (him) just as I have been forgiven for so much. I have some stubborn bones though, and I still didn't go downstairs. Sunday morning I was still upset, or (he) upset me about something else, or probably a combination of the two. Anyway, by late afternoon we were at each others throats. It wasn't pretty. And I am ashamed for the way I treated my husband that day.

It had been a long time since we had such an intense dispute and over something seemingly small. Eventually (he) realized that at the heart of it, it wasn't the unmet expectations, but that there was something underlining my frustration; something really hurting inside of me. By the grace of God our ugliness came to an end and in our desperation and our brokenness we took off our masks and had a heart-to-heart. It was actually a beautiful discussion; praying, apologizing and listening to one another. (Why didn't we do that in the first place?)

As the day went on God continued to weave a theme of forgiveness in my heart. I am learning that despite the infraction or weather or not I think (he) deserves my forgiveness, that God desires for me to forgive; without condition. A heart that harbors un-forgiveness can not fully experience joy. I am learning that my joy does not depend on any circumstance or situation (and most of the time they are out of my control anyway).

Forgiveness is a choice.
(And sometimes I have to remind myself that I choose to forgive.)

Even when my expectations aren't met, I can love (him) and I can be happy, and I can know that (despite the lack of feeling it), he loves me too.

All in all it was quite an emotional day for me and I choose to stay home with missy moo while the boys went to church. Not because I thought I didn't need to go, or because I didn't want to be around anyone, but because I was emotionally spent and knew that I would be nothing more than a weeping mess the entire time. Friends still came over after service and we watched and discussed a movie (I forgot what it was called). After the movie and several had gone home a few of us sat down and we shared our marital struggles. God blessed us with an evening of fellowship and prayer. And not to air our friends laundry too, but it was encouraging to hear the struggles of other couples and to both share and hear different perspectives and ways of working things out. (Apparently it was a rough Sunday.)

We don't claim to be saints here in our haven, and from time to time life gets pretty messy. But I know that God has a plan and that every struggle we encounter is a piece of something bigger. It sure stinks (and feels like hell) when we are in the middle of it, but I know that I am being refined, and I hope that I will always be willing to hear what He has to teach me. I am thankful for His forgivness and pray for a heart that can extend that to others (even to a husband who might not always meet my expectations.) :)

Left With The Boys At HomeDays One and Two(him)

2009-04-15T22:47:00.004-05:00

FThings have been going pretty well. The boys have a sort of clubhouse in the attic where all their toys, as well as a TV, keep them busy. Since I'm working at home for three days this week it has been important to keep them off the first floor. Today they were downstairs a bit more than the prior day, but I can't blame them for wanting to move around.

I've decided that working from home is not all it's cracked up to be. I am busy, and am getting a lot of work done, but I'm still going crazy from boredom. I think I figured it out this morning. My normal working style goes like this:

60-90 min of intense, eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying, brain racing work,
5 min to go chat with someone and/or go poop (I always take a book with me even if it will only be two minutes),
back to crazy work for 45-60 min,
then take a slightly longer break for 15 min or so.
Repeat until 4:30-5:00.

That is probbaly a little exaggerated, but suffice to say I work intensely for short periods and then take short breaks.

So yesterday, I worked straight for 4 hours and then again for 3-4 hours. This morning I realized that I had no one to talk to and as a result had just kept working. It didn't help that I was stumped by a programming issue and was deadset on resolving it. (I had to go pee for three hours, but didn't want to get up until I figured it out!)

Anyway, I've decided I will think twice before ever asking to work from home!

Today, a buddy came by to help me move our washer/dryer into the basement. It took 20 min. I had to leave the door open while we were working and... the dog took off. Sneaky, sneaky. So, on my way to and from picking up the oldest from school we drove around the neighborhood. No luck. Now here was my dilemma: I have work to do, the dog knows not to wander, she wandered, her fault, I made an effort, but I've got to get back to work. Natural consequences, right? You wander off, you get lost and no longer have a home.

So I worked, but felt crappy the whole time. Every once in awhile, I'd get up walk outside and call for the dog. I walked around the corner to let the neighboring business know to keep an eye out. The boys and I also prayed at lunch that we would find her. Around 3:15 I called Animal Control and it turned out they had her. I picked her up just before 5:00. She was gone for about 5.5 hrs total. It cost me $30 to post her bail. Her prison name was apparently, "Dot." On a positive note, within two hours of being there she had 2 offers to adopt. That's encouraging because it means that at least somebody wants her! jk

Anywho, I'm learning to appreciate my wife's sacrifices. I sometimes lament that I work two jobs while she gets to stay home (mostly when I want to do something selfish, but can't). But after these two days of no one to talk to, tantrums whenever I actually am talking to my youngest, dogs running off, etc... I totally understand why I have a barrage of questions, updates, etc when I get home. I think I'll take my two jobs and I might even complain a little less!

Leaving the boys at homeDay one(her)

2009-04-14T22:46:00.002-05:00

It's (him) who usually talks about poop. But...

In the back seat of a black four door, to which I don't know the make and model of, is where I spent my day. The mundane sound of the tires rolling over the cracked and uneven pavement was almost soothing and my eyes were heavy. Missy moo was with me in the car where myself and three other adults traveled to Lake City. After nine hours on the road my little princess had long ago been fed up with the restraints of her car seat. The patience and tolerance of an uncomfortable seven month old was abounding.

I had not been able to nurse missy moo during the trip, so my discomfort was growing. I kept a constant eye on the front of my shirt because the last thing I wanted was the awkwardness of lactation soaking through my garments.

Twenty minutes from our destination I could tell that we would need to pull over soon; a certain "princess" was working on a little somthin in her britches. We made our stop at a rest area and lifting her out of the seat revealed quite the blow out (and I'm not talking about tires). I'm talking the kind that if we were at home I would have marched her straight to the tub and hosed her down. But we weren’t at home. And there was no tub. I had to strip her down, bathe her and rinse her clothes as best I could in the rest stop bathroom, which was definitely not equipped for the kind of mess I was dealing with (there weren’t even any paper towels). As if that weren’t bad enough, I also had to clean the car seat out as best I could (using wipes) and then lay a blanket in it so that baby girl could sit saftly for the remainder of the drive. Good times for sure.

We had among us a younger single guy who decided he'd start keeping a mental list of all the reasons not to have children; poop in the car was at the top. Glad my princess and I could provide that insight.

I wonder how things are going for the boys...

Advertising Our Flat Screen(him)

2009-04-13T10:21:00.003-05:00

I wasn't there for the event described in (her) post. But it was a good discussion to have with (her) regarding what we value.

We felt called to the neighborhood and we came, but now what. I want to have a mission. The troubling aspect for me is that I always want to have something to do. I want to know the "what". But at this time in our lives, I think the "what" is just to be here, serve where and when we can, try to develop relationships, and wait for further direction. Our mission is to be missionaries. We don't know the next step because we're still trying to discern (or wait for) the new culture we are in and what God wants next for us in that culture.

Thinking about all that has put the value of our things into perspective. They aren't worth much weight when we put them on the scale next to our mission.

Last night, while I was reading The Magician's Nephew to the kids, there was a knock on the door. It came from the back door, which was wierd, but I went to check it out. A big guy was there and asked if it was ok to take the TV stand outside. I was surprised (in general, but also that someone actually asked), said "It's yours." and then closed the door. But after that, it occurred to me that I'd lost an opportunity. So I went to the front where the item was to meet him and chat. I got his name and the exchange was short, but thanked him for asking and was then content that I'd at least attempted to take some time for this man.

Anyway, I bring this up because it made me realize that, even when I have this mission to make relationships and get to know the culture I'm in, it is so easy to make people less important than whatever it is I'm doing or to simply not think about them at all.

If God's mission in the world is (possibly among other things) to redeem relationships then I can never carry out his mission if I don't put people first. So, my TV, my house, even my safety fall second in line to God's call to relationship with him and my neighbors.

Wish us luck in making that a reality.

Picture Day

2009-04-12T10:22:00.005-05:00

Happy Easter!

Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone was moved away from the enterance...
John 20:1

Advertising our flat screen(her)

2009-04-10T11:30:00.004-05:00

The front lawn (what little there is) seems to be a perfect spot for passers-by to toss their empty pop cans and discard whatever random pieces of garbage they might be carrying. Almost every day I'm out there picking up trash. Yesterday, a random neighboring hood dweller praised me for my efforts and commented that I ought to be "hired" seeing as I'm the only one out there every day trying to keep things tidy.

Anyhow, the amount of waste is only a small indication of the amount of traffic our sidewalk endures. God willing, our haven is perfectly located for outreach.

A few weeks ago we experienced a rare day of warmth bathed in glorious rays of sunshine (such a day I've been longing for ever since), and we thought it absolutely perfect for a BBQ. We invited Young Life leaders and youth over and set the grill up out front; hot dogs for everyone.

The warm weather brought the neighborhood to life. Old and young came out, gracing the streets with their presence. Needless to say, the amount of foot traffic increased significantly.

We offered hot dogs to our neighbors, and while some politely declined, many were happy to receive a free meal. We met many new faces that day. I was especially stoked about the youth who stopped by to find out what was going on. One young fellow in particular was rather interested in the other teens who were hanging out. He wanted to know if there was anyone inside that he knew and asked if he could go in. "Sure" I answered hesitantly.

Moments later he scurried down the porch calling out to his friends "They got a Wii and a flat screen in there!"

Almost as immediate as my stomach sunk, my heart filled with prayers; asking God to keep our haven safe from theft and mischief.

I learned some important lessons that day. And not just about setting boundaries and taking careful precautions (although those are quite significant), but about turning it all over to Him. Not just my fears, emotions and desires, but my "stuff" too. In fact, it's all His anyway. I am thankful for the blessings we have been given, and He encouraged my heart that day to use what we have been blessed with for His glory and to bless others. After prayer and consideration (him) and I determined that we don't actually own anything we couldn't live without. Some things are nice, and many things provide a lot of convenience, but nothing isn't replaceable.

We were listening to an Odyssey CD in the van the other day and the characters were mulling over the following question...
If the house were burning, and everyone was safe, and you could grab one (and only one) thing, what would it be?
(Him) and I had trouble of thinking of anything. Nothing seemed important enough. I finally decided on my computer because much of my writing, business files and family photos are stored on it. Even so, while the plethora of smiling faces saved as jpg's would be dearly missed, I think I'd be OK. And, I know that many photographs and memories could be recovered, recaptured and redocumented.

All to say, it's just stuff, and we are trying to live out a willingness to follow God's lead in building relationships; even at the risk of loosing our stuff.

Fixin er up(him)

2009-04-08T10:02:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I cry a lot. Particularly after (she) mentions that (she) doesn't like the way something in the house looks. Sometimes I cry a lot more. Particularly after (she) mentions that (she) doesn't like the new way something in the house looks.

Thankfully, with this move, the house was such an absolute, ridiculous mess that any improvement seemed wonderful to (her) and not many 2nd change requests have been made.

I still cry a lot, but it's because I think I'm in a movie.

In all seriousness though, every rennovation has been a great experience for a couple reasons. First, I've gotten to do or learn new things that make me feel very man-ish. Second, and more importantly, our friends have been there to help at every step. That communal experience has been amazing and we've been able to build deep relationships so quickly.

Thanks to everyone who has sacrificed their sweat and thanks to everyone who has sacrificed time with their spouses or loved ones to help us out.

Future projects include, but are not limited to:

hooking up washer/dryer (including running gas lines for the dryer),
trying to figure out where everything stored in the basement will go,
trying to understand what the heck to do with random unused toilets in the scary room in the basement,
painting living/family room, re-attaching ceiling to the ceiling,
making a DIY alarm system (thinking combination of loud noises, SMS notification on cell phones, picture sent wirelessly to home network, and LCD interface),
putting up fence around our strip of grass so kids have some boundaries when outside (maybe some sort of proximity fence with the wires under the ground and wrist-bands so kids get shocked when they go to far!! jk),
and finally, finishing building my shrunk so I can get my clothing off the ground and free up half of our bedroom.

Thanks again to everyone who has helped us get the place in order!

Fixin er up(her)

2009-04-06T19:00:00.011-05:00

At first, I wasn't sure if I wanted anyone to see our new place; no doubt they'd think we were crazy. This haven is a fixer-upper (and that's an understatement).

I wasted no time in beginning the fixin it up. My priorities upon receiving the keys to our dwelling place were painting, buying curtains, wall boarders; you know, making the house a home. My beloved husband on the other hand, he could care less what the place looked like and was all about the functionality. We butted heads a few times, but we do complement each other nicely. In the end, we have a working toilet and a cozy place to sit.

It took some coaxing, but I decided that letting our friends in to help (despite the sad state in which our haven stood) was better than trying to do it all alone. In fact, having all the help has played it's role in saving my sanity.

I soon realized that our house does not need to be perfect. As it turns out, people aren't all that concerned with the aesthetics of our home, they come here for the relationships. So, the living room still isn't painted (in fact part of the ceiling is still hanging down where we knocked out one of the walls) and yet, I have been perfectly content to open my home and invite people in.

For the fun of it, here are some pictures and details of the renovations. We didn't take many before photos, but you'll get a good idea of what it was like...

Here is the kitchen. Beneath the paint and wall boarder is nothing short of a mess slapped all over the walls; uneven surfaces, mismatching trim, poor patch jobs, cracking etc. Hiding behind the microwave stand is a large patch of unevenness where someone very poorly patched a very large hole. You can't see them, but the wooden cupboards are slathered with about a trillion coats of paint. A couple at the top are actually painted shut (or something). A project for the future. There were no appliances in the house. (He) picked up two fridges for twenty bucks. Sure, it was a fabulous deal, but I did have to spend an entire day cleaning this one out. Disgusting. The stove, which (he) forgot to mention was brown, was purchased off of Craig's list. It works, and at least it goes with the decor. The trouble with the stove however was that the landlord told us we needed an electric when we in fact needed a gas. It was just last week that the electrician finally came and installed everything needed to get our "new" electric stove working. As you can kind of see, the floor has several strips of linoleum, and not all the same kind. That's a project for the future too. I still feel like the kitchen is missing something, so we are going to get an island and some stools for the area between the stove and fridge (the extra counter space is much needed).

The dining room is much larger than our previous. I was going to paint the whole thing, but just wasn't feeling it that day. The colors all came together nicely though, and I like the way it turned out. There is a doorway between the dining room and the kitchen, must have been from when there were five apartments here. I took the door down. You can't see it here, but there is one wall that is painted top to bottom in the darker color. Behind the paint is a flower printed board that was screwed onto the wall because whoever busted part of the wall down to work on the pipes behind it apparently didn't want to re-plaster or drywall or whatever and decided that throwing a big board up would be better. Yeah.

We knocked down a wall that split the living room in half, and doing so created a massive space. It still needs to be painted. The house was built with hard wood floors and trim. The trim is now covered in layers upon layers of white paint and the floors, as you can see, are scratched and stained with paint and who knows what else. We do have plans for sanding them down. Yes, that is an AC unit. We'll see what the summer is like, I am optimistic and we have numerous units to put throughout the house. Anyway, I'd take a few hot rooms over a snowy day in a heartbeat.

On Saturday, we knocked out a doorway between the front entryway and the living room that had some interesting green windows. It really opened things up. The taped up thermostat is (his) way of getting a rise out of me. It will be installed correctly.

So, when we looked at the house the claw tub wasn't hooked up and was sitting against the back wall. We were given the option of keeping the tub or having a standing shower installed. We opted for the tub (I think it's kinda cool, and it's large)... The plumber came and hooked it up... I can't ~~say~~ type what I said when I first saw the thing sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor. I worked with it though. One day, when we put linoleum down and take up the old and badly laid carpet, we will extend the pipes and put the tub in the corner. Yes, we have to find a mirror for the medicine cabinet.

The house doesn't have any closets. Not a single one. This is a shot of my "walk over closet". I put up a similar deal in the boys room, and we now have several wardrobes and dressers where the linen and coats and normal hall closet stuff is stored. Our room isn't complete yet, and neither are the others. The baby's room is coming along nicely though, I love the new theme. Since I know she's a girl, I was able to go pink. Pink, flowers and some navy blue accents... I'm excited for the final product. The boys room isn't much yet either. Eventually I want to paint the walls, I'm thinking clouds, trees and maybe a train.

The attic is one of my favorite places in the house. It was once a scary navy blue (from top to bottom) dungeon with no carpets and boarded up windows. We primed, painted and laid carpet. There is a play room up there, a TV and computer room, a school/craft area and a small hall way where my sewing machine and craft supplies sit. There is still some work to be done though. The stairs have to be carpeted and the walls leading up to the third floor need to be patched and painted.

This is the monster that grumbles down in the basement. It went out this last weekend and we shivered in below 50 degrees for about a day. The basement comes with a few other interesting amenities. There is a room toward the back of the basement that has a toilet and a standing shower in the middle of the room; no walls or anything around it. It's dirty and a little frightening in there. I just keep the door shut. We still have a lot to clean and organize down there... but that's for another day.

Picture Day

2009-04-05T15:40:00.001-05:00

Family Dinner(him)

2009-04-04T05:00:00.001-05:00

I don't remember who had the idea first, but we both were tired of the long queue of people we wanted to have come over for dinner on Wednesday nights. Not only could our dining room not accomodate more than one set of guests, but we were simply in the habit of inviting only one couple or one or two singles per week.

Around the time we decided to move, we were thinking about how to create (and become part of the) community at our new church and at the same time lamenting that we only had one night a week to entertain and so many who we wanted to invite. A light went off...

Anyone is welcome. Anyone. Friends from the church, friends from work, friends from the former church, friends from the neighborhood, etc. We haven't gone too crazy with that yet, but I try to always invite some folks from outside my Sunday circle and am going to become more intentional within my Sunday circle to include anyone and avoid building a clique. I'm serious about the anyone thing.

Most folks are part of several different circles or communities. There's a work one, a church one, a quilting club, the bar community, your friends from college, high school, disc golf... And while they do cross over at times, it's very natural and typical for us to keep them apart.

I firmly believe that this should not be the case.

There is a gentleman who used to work for Willow Creek who left to plant a church in San Francisco. I'll screw up the details here, but he views his church (which is not a four walls and roof church) as a series of connected rings. He says most churches are a rubberband and the church tries to stuff as many people in before the band breaks. So views each ring as a community that someone is a part of. While they extend one ring in to the "church" they are always extending another ring out to the rest of their lives. Connecting everyone. (Some people have a lot of hands I guess.)

Or something like that.

Point being, church is not a sermon and worship, it's community. And sense we are not part of only that one community, but (usually) many communities, we should seek to bring them together. Not bring people from your neighborhood or work to church. Instead, I think we should seek to let them be one in our lives. We hold so many things in our lives in tension, but who hangs with who should not be one of them.

I'm still fleshing out my sense of what authentic community is I suppose, but hopefully this helps shed light on this new aspect of our lives, our new Family Dinner.

Family Dinner(her)

2009-04-03T00:00:00.002-05:00

Those poor souls had no idea what they were getting into when they invited us over for sledding and hot cocoa. It was only a couple of weeks later that they were watching our kids and helping us move. And as if they hadn't already done enough... the seven of us (I'm counting the dog) had ourselves a family sleep over with our new friends the day we moved into the hood. Talk about getting to know each other.

I love with amazement our new church. God brought together a uniquely wonderful community of people. And it's a community like I've not known before. Making the move to Imago was a struggle for me (as mentioned in my first post here in the hood). But you know what...

God provides for us the things we need and sometimes, even those we long for.

As suspected, leaving the old church closed a lot of doors. But waiting at Imago were open arms and people I quickly came to call friends. They keep us on our toes, they keep us real, they have been there when we haven't even asked, they bring us pineapples (did ya know they were a symbol of friendship?) in the middle of the afternoon, and they put up with, and even like, our four little hoodlums (and isn't that the true test right there).

In all seriousness, I really am thankful for the relationships. In an effort to live in community and practice all the things we have been preaching, Stephen and I opened our home on Wednesday evenings for "family dinner". It's been a fun time of getting to know each other and hanging out, and the kids all have a ton of fun too. We have also been hosting movie night and discussion on Sunday's after church. We have always enjoyed having people in our home, and we are definitely thankful for a house with enough space to (comfortably) accommodate. (I did have to expand my dining set though, I'm up to 16 dinner plates and 12 of everything else... all matching. :) And while we can fit three tables, we have had to get creative with the chairs; the piano bench, chairs from the porch... It's on the list of things to invest in.)

Anyhow, all to say that God is good. I was so worried about not having any friends if we went through with it all. As it turn out, God was just waiting to lead us, and to show us, how "community" was really meant to be lived.

Almost Homeless(him)

2009-04-02T00:00:00.002-05:00

It's two days before we're supposed to move out of one rental home into another. We get a call from the new landlord saying a city inspector has come by and said that we can't move in because it's not zoned as residential. From there, it gets a little confusing.

The short version is we were on a roller-coaster. Every time we thought God had worked it out, there was a new bump in the road.
The slightly longer version... So on that fated Thursday we heard that we couldn't move in, leaving us with no home. Then shortly after, we found out that we could as long as there was a business on the first floor. We said, "That works, we have two tax id's. One for (her) business and another for the ministry (she) works with." So, trusting that God would work everything out, we moved in. The inspector came to visit, said everything looked good, but that she'd need to check on something in the attic. A few days later, already moved in, we heard that the Chief City Inspector said we would need a handicap accessible bathroom on the first floor for the business and a kitchen on the second floor for our living area. That was a sad, sad day.

So at that point, our landlord was already contacting people in the city and our pastor, who is on a city committee, was contacting city officials. The city manager said he was upset that there were barriers for people moving in to help rehab the neighborhood.

Skip a few bumps and finally, a zoning official visits our house with two city inspectors and says, (paraphrase of a paraphrase) "Are you nuts, this is a residence, not a business!" And that was that. We were in!

So, positive outcomes or potential outcomes:

The city, at a high level, became aware that it's regulations make it difficult to attract the people it wants in the neighborhood and will seek to reduce the barriers.
Our house is currently undergoing inspection as a residence, which, while it is a hassle and potentially expensive for our landlord, is a good thing for us.
We had an amazing opportunity to trust the Lord. At any given moment, we might have been passing or failing that "test". But it was a faith builder to be sure.

The obligatory spiritual synopsis... Matthew 6 encourages to not worry about tomorrow. At the very least, God promises to provide for us if we are seeking His Kingdom. When we were going through all this, it was very easy to get caught up in the latest bad news and just worry.

But we kept coming back to basically what Jesus preached in Matthew 6. We felt God's call to this church and this neighborhood. I think in the moments that we really trusted that call, we found ourselves at peace.

Thank you Lord, for taking care of tomorrow.

Almost homeless(her)

2009-04-01T00:00:00.009-05:00

I bet it was such a beautiful house at one time. Hard wood floors and trim, large open spaces and lots of windows. It sure has seen a lot of days since then. At one time the house consisted of five apartments (yes, I said five). Most of the trim has been painted over (about a zillion times) and the wood floors are stained and chipped. Needless to say, it needs a lot of work.

We were quick to get started on the renovations. Painting and carpeting the third floor and knocking out the wall that split the living room in half were our top priorities. The very day that we purchased and began laying the carpet we got the call. Zoning issues. For two days we danced on pins and needles waiting to to find out if we had a place to live.

Some time ago the owner attempted to sell the house commercially, along with other properties on the block. The house had been vacant prior to becoming our home and some odd city code defaulted the property to commercial zoning. Before moving in, the house had to be inspected and we were told that while the upper levels could be used as living spaces, the street level would actually need to be used for business purposes. Changing the zoning back to one family residential would take $350 dollars and close to three months. Luckily, I have two legitimate businesses, and the city was willing to work with us while the proper paperwork was taken care of.

The first inspection, along with revealing several structural issues that needed tending, posed the issue of needing a bathroom on the main level for the business and a kitchen upstairs in the living space. Seriously.

There's no way a kitchen was going to be installed upstairs, or a bathroom downstairs, so once again we were on pins and needles; not really sure if we had a home.

What could we do but pray.

I wish I could say that through prayer I remained calm and positive throughout each dose of bad news, but I'd be lying. While we did spend a significant amount of time and energy relying on Him, I can indeed remember one very emotional afternoon. I was ready to throw in the towel and stay put right there in the coziness of suburbia, unfortunately we had already told our landlord that we were moving out. In fact, we were right smack in the middle of packing when I had my meltdown. Homeless (for the moment) and frustrated I didn't want to have anything more to do with any of it. And I went to sleep, or as (he) would say, I "checked out". Instead of giving up as well, my wonderful husband took me in his arms and let me know that he wasn't going to go forward without me. This was a decision we were going to have to make together... for better or worse.

We prayed.

And God worked things out.

Our pastor and a few others started calling the city and various connections to try and assist in getting the matter resolved. There is a whole "let's clean up the neighborhood" effort going on down here, so it seemed silly that the city wouldn't want to have families like ours move in and try to help the cause.

For the second inspection, three "very important" city people came. They determined that "nothing about the house was commercial". We were able to continue unpacking.

We aren't always called to comfort(him)

2009-03-28T21:54:00.006-05:00

For me, leaving our old church for our new one (Imago Christi) came pretty easy. I had some small concerns, but I was pretty much all-in from the get. My only serious issue was that if/when we joined Imago I wanted to move into the surrounding neighborhood. Obviously, we moved, so I'd like to talk about what it meant to me.

The physical move from a quiet street in Marion to the yelling and screeching tires on 1st and 15th in Cedar Rapids is a GREAT metaphor for the mental, emotional, spiritual, and even philisophical move I anticipated and definitely wanted to make.

One thing I dislike about evangelicals (which I am one of) and evangelicalism (which I am a part of) is that we are self-absorbed and complacent. Since returning to following Christ 4 or 5 years ago, I'd always been on the fringe of church culture, not wanting to be sucked into the apathy I thought I saw. Without realizing it though, my zeal turned into cynicism and then apathy. I was in a comfort zone in which nothing much was required.

But the Spirit moved in my heart, woke me up a little, and then we eventually bumped into an old acquaintance who let us know about Imago. Since Imago meets at night I talked my wife into doing both services one Sunday. I came alive.

In Imago I saw people willing to be uncomfortable and suddenly remembered that I did not want comfort. I saw a community that wanted to live life together. I saw a theology that was concerned with application. I saw a church that would not preclude (read exclude) postmoderns and was not willing to leave the poor and hurting behind. I saw everything I had ever dreamt of.

How I got all that in the first 5 minutes of a service I'll never know. Obviously, there is no church that is all those things. Imago has and will have issues like any other church.

So what did the move mean... I began to think and dream again about what I believe, how God wants us to minister, etc. In the midst of turmoil, I have become engaged, and my heart has lifted. I'm praying more, reading my Bible more, and find myself looking for opportunities to be the Good News. Not only that, but I feel so much more in touch with the Spirit than I can remember ever having been.

By no means though does that imply that anything about this move has been easy. Changing our address has been arduous, stressful, and definintely uncomfortable. Nothing has been smooth in the transition. God's saving grace to us in the move has been that our new church family carried most of the burden of moving and moving in. At every point, someone has been volunteering their assistance.

Aside from the move, we are facing major cultural challenges in two regards. First, we've never been part of a church plant. While it's still possible to just show up, we want to do more than that and it means facing the challenges of getting along, being part of the vision and work of Imago, and helping do the work to make "church" a success. Second, our new neighborhood is worlds apart from our old. We've got to learn how to fit in, where and how to help/minister, when and how to say 'no', etc. or we'll crumble under the stress of it all.

So welcome to our blog, where we'll talk about plenty of stuff, but we'll try to always bring it back to finding our Haven in God's grace in the midst of the Hood that is now our lives.

We aren't always called to comfort(her)

2009-03-28T19:49:00.010-05:00

Changing churches was a a bit of a struggle for me (my dear husband would probably call that an understatement). I began my relationship with Christ in that sanctuary and it is where my new life began. I was involved and connected. It was never about not wanting to go to Imago, it was just hard to leave everything that I knew and loved.

What God called us to however is greater than the sentiments of that old sanctuary. We became involved in a church plant whose mission is to reach out to the community. What attracted us the most is that it's community is close to downtown. While many of the local churches are moving outside of the city, this church plant is moving in.

As we got to know the heart and mission of the church and it's flock, we felt more and more challenged and convicted to ourselves become a part of the inner city community. Through Young Life, we already work with youth in the downtown neighborhoods and we began to toss around the idea of "moving into the hood".

Our pastor introduced us to a guy who owns some property right off of First Ave and it didn't take long to decide that the three story fixer-upper on the corner of one of the most "lively" streets around would be a most perfect location.

We began to share our vision and excitement, and while many were supportive, some... not so much. Several asked "why?" and others flat out told us that we are going end up shot. We were even told that moving to "the ghetto" is a bad parenting decision because it isn't a safe environment for our kids. The comments and warnings began to get to me and I started to wonder if we were really making the right choice.

At one point, we were told about the truck that pulled up right outside of our house. An older, grey-headed man was driving, and out of the passenger side stumbled a short younger gal. She spit and sputtered blood onto the sidewalk as she pulled her hoodie over her bowed head and walked around the corner. The man simply drove away. Can you imagine everything that ran through my mind!

My biggest concern became about the kids. Would they really be safe? What if something does happen? What if one of them gets hurt? What if one of them gets killed? In my heart I knew where God was calling us, but could I really trust Him?

I was never quite able to say that I didn't want to move. In my heart, I knew that we would and that we should. I did cry some (or a lot), and I was angry for a while. It was Stephen who helped me to find peace. He reminded me that if it is in God's plan that one of our kids should join Him sooner than we might want, it isn't going to matter where we are living.

Along with my concerns for safety I thought a lot about the ways that life would change. At the old place we could leave our doors unlocked. In the summertime I would jog around the block alone (OK, not regularly). The kids could play outside unattended. And we could leave our cars running, or leave the kids asleep in the car (come on, you've never done that?). In our new neighborhood however, all of that (and more) would change. And, the house really is a fixer-upper; not exactly my dream home. What would our friends think... would they even come down here at all?

The safety and comforts of suburbia were calling me.

In the end, I realized that there is no reason great enough not to trust God. And there is no comfort important enough not to follow God's calling. I choose to trust God. To trust my husband. To walk in faith. And with excitement (and a little nervousness) we packed our belongings, stepped out of the boat, and moved into the hood.

Meet the Crew

2009-03-20T20:29:00.022-05:00

Stephen (him) & Tiffanie (her)
He works as an Analyst at Aegon and she is a mommy and a photographer. He's a movie buff, reads a ton of books, enjoys a good debate, loves disc gols and a strond cup of coffee. She writes, sings, loves crafts, teaching the kids and likes her coffee with a whole lot of cream. Together they have five wonderful hoodlums and a dog.

The Boys These three are full of life and energy. They are great friends and always have each others backs (most of the time anyway). The dynamics of their relationships are fun and beautiful; brothers for sure and yet each of them is unique in his own way, with his own interests, strengths and quirks.

The Girls
These two are precious in every way. Pink, hair bows and shinny shoes. A little bit of tomboy and a little bit girly; daddy’s princesses (and mommy’s sanity) for sure.

The Dog
Half lab and half Shepard. Mikey is a she. We adopted this big puppy from the humane society and happened to be able to pick her up on Nevan’s birthday, so he named her. She is fun and full of energy and everything a dog is supposed to be.

Movin to the "hood" (our first posts)
We aren't always called to comfort (him)
We aren't always called to comfort (her)