Pleasantly Pumpkin

This morning, I was able to attend my daughter Chloe's Kindergarten field trip to a local pumpkin patch.  While on the trip, her teacher was looking for a pumpkin flower.  The class recently discussed how pumpkins grew from a flower on a vine into the big, round orange pumpkins that we pick up and use for carving jack-o-lanterns.  It occured to me as the teacher located a beautiful pumpkin vine and flower, cut it off and showed it to all of the children, that our path, as God's children, begins and ends much like that of a pumpkin's path to our carving table or porch decor.

You see, pumpkins start from just one, relatively small, seed that is planted.  It's nurtured and taken care of - fertilized (fed) and watered.  The pumpkin fields are tended and looked after, protected during storms and weather fluctuations. The fields are treated to fend off infestations all things that would attempt to damage the crop.  When the pumpkins are riped, they're laid out for selection by the yearly hayrack rides full of pumpkin pickers.

We, too, start out as a very humble little being.  As a child, we're planted, loved and cared for, protected from fluctuations of our world and given resistance to the infestations of the day.  We start out as an innocent little flower, but as we grow, we change.  We learn new things and experience struggles in life.  The weather changes and storms come.  We see our friends change and we recognize opportunities.  Our blooms change from a flower to a little pumpkin bud and grows into the variety of life that we see everytime we look around at the people in our lives.

As we walked through the pumpkin patch, I saw that some of the pumpkins were large, others were small.  Funny. People are that way too.  I saw that some pumpkins were bright orange all over, but others were moddled with green and yellow.  Some were broken and rotted out.  Some had dimples and holes.  Funny, people look uniquely different, too.  Some had one good side and one bad side.  Funny, people carry two personas, too.  Hmmmm.

I also noticed that some of the pumpkins were still attached to their life-giving vine, while others had fallen off on their own and others were cut away.  People, too, have a life-giving vine and our attachment to this Vine varies.  We can be cut away from God, completely, in our minds and hearts.  We can be hanging on with one little strand to God, trying to fend off the challenges and temptations we face, or we can be clinging to God with every fiber of our being and still relying on Him for every breath of our life, each and every day.

God's majesty really is amazing, isn't it?  He can turn that tiny little pumpkin seed into a big, glorious pumpkin!  That's remarkable, in the true sense of the word. God can, however, keep his majesty rather simple.  The transformation is a process, for everyone.  We're growing each day and with each new chance.  God allows our vines to twist and turn and sometimes break, but he always give us a chance at life.  Every single pumpkin in that field, at one time, had a chance to be picked.  The variations of color could all be combined to form a beautiful centerpiece, or a fantastic and whimsical decoration. The bumps and bruises on the guords give them character.  The variation of sizes and colors make each pumpkin truly unique.  And, have you ever noticed how hard is to find that perfect pumpkin. You just can't do it.  Perfection does not exist in the pumpkin patch or in us.  It's just not there, and, that's okay!

Take some time today to thank God for his simple majesty.  Thank Him for the process we go through and thank Him for the opportunities each day that we have to reach out for His life-granting blessings.  Thank God for making you, YOU - unique and beautiful to the One who picks you from the patch, every single time! 

When God Speaks Through Your Spouse

In a moment of disagreement between the two of us (you know the kind - an argument), my husband said some things that hurt.  At first, they just made me really angry.  How dare he say that to me?  I've been a stay-at-home mom for almost 7 years now and in that time, I've done a lot.  I've tried to keep up with the housework. I've tried to keep the family organized.  I've tried to keep the laundry washed and folded (okay, I slack on this one more than other things because I hate laundry so much). I've taken the kids to school, signed all the notes, made sure homework was done, written the checks for field trips, lunches, pictures, etc. I've signed the kids up for various activities and tried to get them involved. I've been the primary care-taker and disciplinarian, simply because I am home.  I've also gone to graduate school, volunteered at church, been a classroom mother for the kids and helped at school parties, and taught foster/adoptive parent classes in the evening.  What I'm trying to say is that I don't feel like I've wasted the past 7 years of my life and I've not spent them on the sofa watching Oprah or General Hospital, eating chocolate. 

So, to hear my husband say that he hasn't really noticed a big difference in the house or the schedule or whatever since I started my final practicum (which is a part-time job) hurt.  He went on to say how ticked off he is that I haven't made simple changes he's requested, like filling up the truck when it gets to 1/2 a tank vs. E, or that I haven't been as resourceful/accountable with our financial resources as I should be, was a surprise.  At first, it felt like he was "giving me instructions" and I didn't want to hear it. 

I mean, really, is he the one at home dealing with all these things.  Nope.  He's at work from 6 a.m. to 5 p.m.  That's easy because he doesn't have to deal with the kids and the day-to-day family stuff!  Can't he help out more at home?  Can't he pay the bills, do a load of laundry, help with homework, run the kids to and from, help clean up from dinner, do baths, get the kids in bed, spend quality time with each of our kids, coach the sports teams, volunteer at church, etc. in the 3 1/2 hours he has at home each night, and do it all without getting irritable?  Shouldn't I be allowed to "clock-out" when he gets home? 

Okay, okay.  I know - on some level that all seems totally reasonable.  Last night (and this morning when I woke up), I heard God saying to me..."He does his part without your help." God's right.  I don't get up at 5:00 a.m. to get ready for work.  I don't go to FedEx and help Justin make his deliveries on time, especially when freight is late, so they're all really, super busy.  I don't help coach the football team. I don't coach the soccer team.  I see my kids during the day and I talk to the teachers, so I know how they're doing all the time.  I get to care for them when they're sick and hear how they're growing because I take them to the doctor appointments.  I get to see them laugh and have a good time, while he's at work.  I have my relationship with our children because I have more time with them than Daddy does. 

When he comes home, and I'm expecting him to help with everything because I want a break - when does he get a break?  Genesis 2:18 says "The LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."  God created me to be a helper for my husband - not the other way around! Oh, Lightbulb! Duh.  I've known that verse for a very long time and I thought I had accepted it. 

In a Bible Study that I'm taking, we've recently discussed the innate drives in men and women.  My husband's drives are to provide for and protect our family and to exercise dominion over those territories.  My drives are to nurture and support my family and to exercise dominion over those territories.  When I ask my husband to take on my territories as well as his own, I put a great deal of pressure on him.  I ask him to do my part and his own and that's not fair.  When he asks me to do things a certain way, I should respect that he knows how to lead our family and make the changes.  (Wanna hear something else?  Justin actually said to me "If you want the power in this family, fine. Take it." Whoa!!!! That's not what I want and NOT what I'd been praying for in my marriage for a very long time. In fact, I've been praying that Justin would step up more.  Prayer answered - last night!  That hurt.  Talk about God getting in your face...)

Now, am I saying that I, as a woman should be okay to be stuck in the kitchen all day doing "woman's work"? No. I'm not.  I believe marriage should consist of mutual support, encouragment, and respect.  It is a two-way street and each partner must give something to the relationship and the home.  However, what each partner gives is just different.  Each gives something to the family and the home, but each gives what God has equipped him or her to give.  It is unfair of us, male or female, to ask our loved one to give something that God did not design him or her to give.  It's just not possible, and eventually, someone blows. 

So, my encouragment for today is to ask your spouse what he/she feels should be your offering to the marriage. Define your territories and commit to sticking to them.  Check your demands on each other, honestly and sincerely.  Are they equal but different?  Is there something that your spouse would want you to change about the way you do your part, in your family?  Can you make that change?  Today, I will pray about my part and my territories and I will consider how I have been unfair to Justin.  Today, I will really hear the message from my husband because, I believe it may just be a message from my Father.

Remembering and Recognizing

When I was only 12 years old, my world was turned upside down but it turned out that this event would make everything about my life make sense and seem to be exactly the way God intended it to be. 

At 12 years old, I thought I might be pregnant.  WHAT?!?!?! I know, it's crazy - 12 and to be scared of becoming a mother - what was going on?  Out of fear, I confided in my best friend that my father was sexually abusing me and that he'd been doing it for years - as long as I could remember.  That was a huge secret and my friend didn't really know what to do with it.  Can you blame her? She was only 12 years old and no 12 year old should know what to do with that (or should they?).  For some reason, she was led to tell my secret to the school counselor and report to child protective services was made. 

Later that day, I was called to the counselor's office at school to be interviewed by a social worker and a detective, and I have to admit that I really wanted to take it all back and say it wasn't true!  I knew that it was not a good thing to have these people asking these questions.  I knew trouble was coming but I answered all of their questions truthfully.  I had to.  There was a detective there and I knew these people were serious!  I saw no way out of this situation, but I did wonder if this situation would make it all stop.  What would happen next?  Would my father get arrested?  Would my mother believe me? What about my brother? What would happen?  I had no clue but I sat there and answered their questions.

In the next instant I was flooded by fear and confusion.  The social worker told me to get on the bus and go home.  "What!?!?" "Are you kidding me?" "You don't know what will happen to me!" were the thoughts that came rushing to mind.  What the social worker hadn't asked about was the discipline used in my home, which was very harsh and abusive.  I was now really afraid of what would happen when I got home and there was nowhere else for me to go.

As I walked in the door, the phone rang and my mother's jaw dropped.  My mother, my father and I drove to the detective's office together for questioning and I was being told to recant the story the whole way.  After some time, I was led to a room down the hall and I watched my parents drive away (without saying goodbye) through a window.  I remember feeling scared and alone but also a sense of relief because I didn't have to go home with them.  This night began a 6 year journey through foster care for me, which included 9 different places (1 relative placement, 4 group home stays, 3 long-term foster families, and 1emergency foster home).

My first placement was with a relative, who told the authorities to move me just 2 weeks later because she "didn't want me to make this up" about her husband.  I was moved to the Wichita Children's Home in Wichita, KS.  The "children's home", as it is commonly known here, was a big place with lots of rooms and lots of kids.  Every 8 hours staff changed and we carried "point cards" everywhere - even to school.  Meals were held in a big dining room and at the same time each day.  I would come to spend 3 months there this time and would be placed in 2 different units within the "home".  I would come back to the "home" 4 years later, in between foster home placements. to see many of the same staff there. 

That first summer in WCH was difficult and to be honest with you, I don't remember too much about it.  What I do remember are the stories of those that cared for me - the staff.  I was blessed to meet some really incredible people at the "home" who have impacted my life beyond measure.  People like Marcy Ray, Kim and Shawn Raider, Jamie Johnston, Sjonna Ocshner, and others, who gave so much of themselves to serve kids like me, of all ages, who were alone, scared and confused.  People who would introduce me to safety and security for the first time in my life.  People who would show me that life didn't have to hurt and relationships with adults didn't have to be scary or confusing.  People who would introduce me to Christ without ever saying His name.  People who I am sure prayed for me and for the other kids there. People who would let me sit in their office and hold teddy bears or play games or throw a frisbee with me.  People who would stay in touch with me even after I left the home. People who would watch out for me and advocate for me, or let me watch and sing along to "The Little Mermaid" whenever I wanted.  People who would later invite me, a teenager in foster care, to play a part in their wedding.  People who believed in me then, and still do. People who helped me to become the woman I am today.  People God knew I needed at that exact moment.

Just a few days ago, I received a call that one of these very special people had died.  Jamie Johnston left this world on Sunday, September 20, 2009.  She had worked at the home much longer than I can remember and had touched so many young people, just like me.  She had worked with too many youth and families to count, for sure.  She had impacted the lives of her co-workers and her community in such a kind and gentle way, that only Jamie could do.  Jamie was so caring and nurturing.  Her soft voice was comforting, yet honest.  She remembered you long after you'd left her sight and I know, in my heart, she prayed for so many, for so long.  Jamie was a remarkable woman and one that will be greatly missed. 

As I reflect on this time in my life, I remember not only what happened to me and the journey I took through foster care, but I also remember all of the incredible staff, case managers, therapists, teachers, counselors, social workers, the court service officer and judge who impacted my life in such a profound way. I also remember many of the other young people experiencing the journey alongside me and the struggles they were going through and I recognize that the young people I serve today are no different.   

I admire the efforts these caring workers put into their jobs and I respect the time and effort that each one gives to their clients.  I recognize that our system of foster care is not perfect. Our families are not perfect.  Our therapy techniques aren't perfect. Our laws and regulations aren't perfect.  Heck, the workers themselves, aren't perfect, but they try.  Each and every day, these people hold the life of a child and a family in the palm of their hands and they work as hard as they can to impact that family in a positive way.  Social workers don't stop serving their clients at 5:00 p.m. Social workers, and other caring professionals who serve families and children, think about their clients and pray for their clients and try to discover new ways to help improve situations or find resources to offer, every day. 

As a social worker, now, I look back with appreciation and respect. I thank each and every one of these people for taking the time to choose the job they did and be a part of my life - YOU HAVE HELPED ME TO BE WHO I AM!