Today I am thinking about the first Thanksgiving ... no, not THAT first thanksgiving, but the first Thanksgiving I ever spent with my husband.
It was nine years ago on Thanksgiving day, and my family had left me home sick for Thanksgiving (in their defense I told them to go on without me). I was getting ready for my big surgery in a couple weeks and so when I began having some weird symptoms I called my dr. who told me to go to the ER because they thought I was reacting to some antibiotics I was taking. I didn't have a car and my family was over 3 hours away - so I called my neighbor (Joshua's parents) and asked if anyone could just drive me and drop me off at the ER. My now Father in law and my Farmer Boy showed up and Joshua drove me to the ER - and he STAYED.
I was embarrassed that he stayed, and so so thankful.
I kept telling him that he was missing Thanksgiving, and should be at home with his family, and he kept saying that he was having fun just being with me and that he didn't want me to be alone. He stayed with me for 8 hours. His sweet family waited until 8 pm when he got home to eat Thanksgiving dinner. I felt bad for making them all wait, I felt sad that he had missed the day playing games with his brothers, and I also felt loved beyond words.
It was on that Thanksgiving that I realized that He loved me, as more than a friend, as more than a neighbor - he loved me! I wouldn't have admitted it then, but it was pretty obvious to everyone that this guy was being more than a good neighbor that day.
And I am so thankful!
We didn't start dating for almost another year, but ever since that day I have thought about him above all others on this earth. I didn't realize it at that time, but I loved him too, and I've loved him every day since.
So, today, as we are away from family living in a new place, I am still thankful .... so so thankful that I get to spend this my favorite holiday with the man who loved me on that Thanksgiving so long ago.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Friday, October 4, 2013
A story of two mothers, a wise king, and a love that lets go
Check out this story in the Bible:
1 Kings 3:16-27
16 "Now two prostitutes came to the king and stood before him. 17 One of them said, “Pardon me, my lord. This woman and I live in the same house, and I had a baby while she was there with me. 18 The third day after my child was born, this woman also had a baby. We were alone; there was no one in the house but the two of us.
I never felt this story applied to my own life before. I remember as a kid we had an arch book of the story and since I loved babies ever since I can remember, I felt bad for both the women. Well, last week in church this passage was read and it hit me like it never had before.
We have been seriously looking into adoption and we are at the point where we can begin in earnest the process to being our family through adoption. We live in a state where adopting through foster care ( which we had planned on pursuing when we moved here this summer) at this point is not possible for us, and the international world of adoption is a very confusing and challenging world. There is a lot of information out there about child trafficking and my heart keep returning to the thought that maybe we as the church should be helping families stay together (in cases where the family loves and cares for a child the best they can) rather than encouraging desperate parents to put their children in orphanages because they don't have food to feed them. There are so many countries involved, so many ministries, so many needs - and each of us needs to decide what God would have us to do make a difference. For my Farmer Boy and I we have felt since day one that if we adopt we would need a clear direction and that likely we wouldn't have real peace about an international adoption unless we were on the ground working in the country where we adopt. This is not (nor should it be) what every family decides about adoption. I have many friends who had or are adopting internationally, and they made that decision with God, and I trust that. It is not my job to question or judge what God tells someone else to do about adopting. But, for us and for this time (it may be that God changes this at some point for us) we have not felt peace about pursuing any international adoption that we have looked into so far. What if for us helping the orphan crisis internationally looks different? What if God wants to use the passion for justice in the adoption world that we have, to help us help families stay together in situations of poverty? We don't know the answers. We don't know if God will open up a situation internationally for us and give us the green light on adding a child from another country into our family. But right now, we don't feel we have that green light.
I have been pleading with him for over 8 years that He would give me a baby. And, every time I run into corruption and questionable practices in adoption agencies or countries I feel like hiding my face and pretending that I don't feel this lack of peace. I want to just send an application and get a baby. I want a family! Why would God let us get to this point and then close door after door for us?
And then I think of the true mother in 1 Kings 3. She was given the choice of insisting that he was hers and having him suffer and die, or in allowing another woman to have him to save his life. She was willing to give up her newborn baby because it would protect his life. The passage tells us she was moved out of love for her son. It was a quick choice for her give up her parental rights to do what was best for her baby. I can't imagine how she felt in that moment when she offered her baby to the other woman because she knew it was the only way of saving him. All of her dreams for him may have flashed before her eyes as she begged the King to give him to the other woman. What great love she had for her baby. What a beautiful picture this is! What a good reminder of love for a child and what that can lead us to do. What a beautiful picture of what some birth mothers do when they give up a child for adoption. What a beautiful picture of what I feel God is asking me to do every time I turn away from another agency because of corruption, or when a country closes down to adoption, or when God just flat out tells me no. I could stomp my feet and scream that it's not fair. I could ignore God's voice and push through applying to adopt a child even if I am seeing God's red light clearly. I could close my eyes and rush forward to make it happen just because I am longing with every fiber of my being to be a mama. But, what would happen? In some cases a child could end up suffering because of my selfishness. If I ever hope to be a real mama, I need to learn to give up what I want the most if that is what is best for a baby I love.
I guess the bottom line is that each of us is responsible for how God directs us, and that adoption should never happen because of selfish motives. It needs to be approached with great care and love of the children. We each need to seek God to give us wisdom to know when He has a door He wants us to walk though or when we might be pushing our own will.
So - I'll keep knocking and researching and asking questions and most of all praying for God to give what He desires for us - to lead us to the children we believe he has for us (and we DO believe that He has children for us - but maybe more about that in a different post). But, may I never hold onto my desire to be a mama so tightly that it hurts the babies I want to know and love.
1 Kings 3:16-27
16 "Now two prostitutes came to the king and stood before him. 17 One of them said, “Pardon me, my lord. This woman and I live in the same house, and I had a baby while she was there with me. 18 The third day after my child was born, this woman also had a baby. We were alone; there was no one in the house but the two of us.
19 “During the night this woman’s son died because she lay on him. 20 So she got up in the middle of the night and took my son from my side while I your servant was asleep. She put him by her breast and put her dead son by my breast. 21 The next morning, I got up to nurse my son—and he was dead! But when I looked at him closely in the morning light, I saw that it wasn’t the son I had borne.”
22 The other woman said, “No! The living one is my son; the dead one is yours.”
But the first one insisted, “No! The dead one is yours; the living one is mine.” And so they argued before the king.
23 The king said, “This one says, ‘My son is alive and your son is dead,’ while that one says, ‘No! Your son is dead and mine is alive.’”
24 Then the king said, “Bring me a sword.” So they brought a sword for the king. 25 He then gave an order: “Cut the living child in two and give half to one and half to the other.”
26 The woman whose son was alive was deeply moved out of love for her son and said to the king, “Please, my lord, give her the living baby! Don’t kill him!”
But the other said, “Neither I nor you shall have him. Cut him in two!”
27 Then the king gave his ruling: “Give the living baby to the first woman. Do not kill him; she is his mother.”
I never felt this story applied to my own life before. I remember as a kid we had an arch book of the story and since I loved babies ever since I can remember, I felt bad for both the women. Well, last week in church this passage was read and it hit me like it never had before.
We have been seriously looking into adoption and we are at the point where we can begin in earnest the process to being our family through adoption. We live in a state where adopting through foster care ( which we had planned on pursuing when we moved here this summer) at this point is not possible for us, and the international world of adoption is a very confusing and challenging world. There is a lot of information out there about child trafficking and my heart keep returning to the thought that maybe we as the church should be helping families stay together (in cases where the family loves and cares for a child the best they can) rather than encouraging desperate parents to put their children in orphanages because they don't have food to feed them. There are so many countries involved, so many ministries, so many needs - and each of us needs to decide what God would have us to do make a difference. For my Farmer Boy and I we have felt since day one that if we adopt we would need a clear direction and that likely we wouldn't have real peace about an international adoption unless we were on the ground working in the country where we adopt. This is not (nor should it be) what every family decides about adoption. I have many friends who had or are adopting internationally, and they made that decision with God, and I trust that. It is not my job to question or judge what God tells someone else to do about adopting. But, for us and for this time (it may be that God changes this at some point for us) we have not felt peace about pursuing any international adoption that we have looked into so far. What if for us helping the orphan crisis internationally looks different? What if God wants to use the passion for justice in the adoption world that we have, to help us help families stay together in situations of poverty? We don't know the answers. We don't know if God will open up a situation internationally for us and give us the green light on adding a child from another country into our family. But right now, we don't feel we have that green light.
I have been pleading with him for over 8 years that He would give me a baby. And, every time I run into corruption and questionable practices in adoption agencies or countries I feel like hiding my face and pretending that I don't feel this lack of peace. I want to just send an application and get a baby. I want a family! Why would God let us get to this point and then close door after door for us?
And then I think of the true mother in 1 Kings 3. She was given the choice of insisting that he was hers and having him suffer and die, or in allowing another woman to have him to save his life. She was willing to give up her newborn baby because it would protect his life. The passage tells us she was moved out of love for her son. It was a quick choice for her give up her parental rights to do what was best for her baby. I can't imagine how she felt in that moment when she offered her baby to the other woman because she knew it was the only way of saving him. All of her dreams for him may have flashed before her eyes as she begged the King to give him to the other woman. What great love she had for her baby. What a beautiful picture this is! What a good reminder of love for a child and what that can lead us to do. What a beautiful picture of what some birth mothers do when they give up a child for adoption. What a beautiful picture of what I feel God is asking me to do every time I turn away from another agency because of corruption, or when a country closes down to adoption, or when God just flat out tells me no. I could stomp my feet and scream that it's not fair. I could ignore God's voice and push through applying to adopt a child even if I am seeing God's red light clearly. I could close my eyes and rush forward to make it happen just because I am longing with every fiber of my being to be a mama. But, what would happen? In some cases a child could end up suffering because of my selfishness. If I ever hope to be a real mama, I need to learn to give up what I want the most if that is what is best for a baby I love.
I guess the bottom line is that each of us is responsible for how God directs us, and that adoption should never happen because of selfish motives. It needs to be approached with great care and love of the children. We each need to seek God to give us wisdom to know when He has a door He wants us to walk though or when we might be pushing our own will.
So - I'll keep knocking and researching and asking questions and most of all praying for God to give what He desires for us - to lead us to the children we believe he has for us (and we DO believe that He has children for us - but maybe more about that in a different post). But, may I never hold onto my desire to be a mama so tightly that it hurts the babies I want to know and love.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
A tribute to my sweet Grammie
She took my little hand in hers and before I knew what was happening we were skipping ... right down the center of a busy mall! She was so happy and free and didn't care that everyone was looking at us. When I think of my sweet Grammie, Suzanne Marie Hagen, memories like this one flood my heart and mind. How can my words give tribute to a true lady and the Grammie that I called: "My Kindred Spirit"?
She used to play for hours with us, and everything was fun of childhood wonder and magic when she was there! The old green shaggy carpet-covered stairs became a railroad car as we went of journeys far into the countryside. The bathtub became a beauty parlor where we were transformed into princesses and Grammie would style the billowy bubbles into gorgeous gowns with puffed sleeves. Because of course every princess needs puffed sleeves when going to a formal ball!
She would read to us on the cozy white couch and the stories of Rapunzel, Hansel and Gretel and the Three Little Kittens came to life with her perfect story-telling voice. On slumber party nights we would snuggle under the sweetest smelling sheets (which she had hung to dry) as she would sing to us songs that will stay in my memory forever: "Sweetest Little Fella", "I've Been Working on the Railroad", "Would you Like to Swing on a Star", and "Sleep Kentucky Babe". I can still see her graceful silhouette in the nursery doorway as she sang "just one more song" until we drifted off to dreamland.
All of us Grandkids used to play for hours in the summer in the little creek that still runs along the back of Grampy and Grammie's house. We would fish for crawdads and pan for gold. More than once I have to admit that I "accidentally" slipped into the water so that I would get an extra bath and Grammie would let me wear one of Grampy's soft white T-shirts. I loved those shirts so much that one Christmas Eve Grammie took one and decorated it with coral lace and little flowers. I wore it as a night shirt and still have it in my hope chest.
Grammie and Grampy's house was the embodiment of Christmas Eve to me. Every year Grammie would be there to open the door in her long shirt and delicate lace top. She always looked like the perfect lady and hostess. Every corner of the house would be decorated: the glowing Christmas tree (that was always perfect to lay under and see the lights), the white angel choir peeking over the brick wall, the many nativity scenes and even the mischievous looking elves behind the tree. We would enjoy a meal of Swedish meatball and shrimp curry with white rice and soft dinner rolls. I can still hear my Grampy saying the blessing in Norwegian. After dinner us kids would scurry around finding sheets and towels to use as costumes for our Christmas skit. Grammie always wanted to sing carols and I can almost see her face with tears glistening on her cheeks as we ended with "Silent Night" every year...
Grammie used to take me on birthday shopping trips (which began because I disliked shoes!) we would shop and Grammie would make me feel so grown up. Over lunch we would talk about anything and everything. She gave me dating advise, and told me stories of when Grampy and her fell in love. We talked about books and the Bible and faith. I'll never forget how she made a grumpy lady at Payless shoes smile and laugh one day. When we went to the car she told me that she tries to never judge people who may be cross or gumpy because you never know what they might be going through. She said that she always tries to make the sad people smile. Every time she heard a siren she would stop and pray for the people involved. She has such intense compassion and kindness.
I was so blessed that my Farmer Boy and I had the privilege of living in her lovely home with her over the past three years. She told me over and over how happy she was that we had each other and she adored my Joshua so much. We spent hours singing hymns and watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune with her. Grammie and I sang in the Senior Singers choir, and went everywhere together. I will never regret those three years spent with Grammie. I learned such valuable lessons, and was challenged and inspired by walking by her side while she made this last journey through life on earth.
No matter how "ready" someone is to go to heaven, it just doesn't seem right to say good-bye. No matter how much you want them to be free, you don't stop wanting to hold them for one more moment. Grammie passed into the everlasting arms of her Savior on July 13, 2013. She was 87 years old. Those last 23 hours will be in my mind forever. They were sacred moments.
Even now over a month later I find myself wanting to write her a letter or call her up, I can't get used to her not being with me after spending those three years almost inseparable. I miss laughing with her until we both cried, I miss singing with her "You'll never walk alone" while we got ready for bed, I miss making strong strong coffee for her and watching her take that first sip, I miss baking lemon squares and hearing her joke about eating them all herself, I miss her stories and quotes, I miss watching the birds with her ...
But I know I'll see her again. And maybe, just maybe she'll take my hand in hers and we'll skip together down the streets of Heaven.
She used to play for hours with us, and everything was fun of childhood wonder and magic when she was there! The old green shaggy carpet-covered stairs became a railroad car as we went of journeys far into the countryside. The bathtub became a beauty parlor where we were transformed into princesses and Grammie would style the billowy bubbles into gorgeous gowns with puffed sleeves. Because of course every princess needs puffed sleeves when going to a formal ball!
She would read to us on the cozy white couch and the stories of Rapunzel, Hansel and Gretel and the Three Little Kittens came to life with her perfect story-telling voice. On slumber party nights we would snuggle under the sweetest smelling sheets (which she had hung to dry) as she would sing to us songs that will stay in my memory forever: "Sweetest Little Fella", "I've Been Working on the Railroad", "Would you Like to Swing on a Star", and "Sleep Kentucky Babe". I can still see her graceful silhouette in the nursery doorway as she sang "just one more song" until we drifted off to dreamland.
All of us Grandkids used to play for hours in the summer in the little creek that still runs along the back of Grampy and Grammie's house. We would fish for crawdads and pan for gold. More than once I have to admit that I "accidentally" slipped into the water so that I would get an extra bath and Grammie would let me wear one of Grampy's soft white T-shirts. I loved those shirts so much that one Christmas Eve Grammie took one and decorated it with coral lace and little flowers. I wore it as a night shirt and still have it in my hope chest.
Grammie and Grampy's house was the embodiment of Christmas Eve to me. Every year Grammie would be there to open the door in her long shirt and delicate lace top. She always looked like the perfect lady and hostess. Every corner of the house would be decorated: the glowing Christmas tree (that was always perfect to lay under and see the lights), the white angel choir peeking over the brick wall, the many nativity scenes and even the mischievous looking elves behind the tree. We would enjoy a meal of Swedish meatball and shrimp curry with white rice and soft dinner rolls. I can still hear my Grampy saying the blessing in Norwegian. After dinner us kids would scurry around finding sheets and towels to use as costumes for our Christmas skit. Grammie always wanted to sing carols and I can almost see her face with tears glistening on her cheeks as we ended with "Silent Night" every year...
Grammie used to take me on birthday shopping trips (which began because I disliked shoes!) we would shop and Grammie would make me feel so grown up. Over lunch we would talk about anything and everything. She gave me dating advise, and told me stories of when Grampy and her fell in love. We talked about books and the Bible and faith. I'll never forget how she made a grumpy lady at Payless shoes smile and laugh one day. When we went to the car she told me that she tries to never judge people who may be cross or gumpy because you never know what they might be going through. She said that she always tries to make the sad people smile. Every time she heard a siren she would stop and pray for the people involved. She has such intense compassion and kindness.
I was so blessed that my Farmer Boy and I had the privilege of living in her lovely home with her over the past three years. She told me over and over how happy she was that we had each other and she adored my Joshua so much. We spent hours singing hymns and watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune with her. Grammie and I sang in the Senior Singers choir, and went everywhere together. I will never regret those three years spent with Grammie. I learned such valuable lessons, and was challenged and inspired by walking by her side while she made this last journey through life on earth.
No matter how "ready" someone is to go to heaven, it just doesn't seem right to say good-bye. No matter how much you want them to be free, you don't stop wanting to hold them for one more moment. Grammie passed into the everlasting arms of her Savior on July 13, 2013. She was 87 years old. Those last 23 hours will be in my mind forever. They were sacred moments.
Even now over a month later I find myself wanting to write her a letter or call her up, I can't get used to her not being with me after spending those three years almost inseparable. I miss laughing with her until we both cried, I miss singing with her "You'll never walk alone" while we got ready for bed, I miss making strong strong coffee for her and watching her take that first sip, I miss baking lemon squares and hearing her joke about eating them all herself, I miss her stories and quotes, I miss watching the birds with her ...
But I know I'll see her again. And maybe, just maybe she'll take my hand in hers and we'll skip together down the streets of Heaven.
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