Parenting, Family, Grace, and Osama Bin Laden

My heart is heavy and my mind is consumed.  I want to write about the things that I am wrestling with, but it's so hard to sort it all out.  I don't rest in my sleep, my focus is off, and I am unable to find resolution.  Needless to say, I haven't accomplished much in the last couple of weeks.

I might have mentioned before that I spent the better part of 14 years as a single mom (even when I wasn't technically single).  And maybe I have even mentioned that I've been a step-mom (a single step-mom, at that!), and am currently a step-mom (not single this time, praise God!), and often a surrogate mom.  So, one might think that by now I would have figured some things out, and I suppose that I have.  Well, at least one thing.... and that is that each kid is significantly different and has different needs.....and therefore they cannot all be parented the same. There are many things that can be consistant.....but, the only thing that is truly consistant is change.  In other words, ya just gotta learn to roll with whatever comes along, and think on yer feet.  I don't think there is a formula to "right" parenting.  I do, however, know beyond a shadow of a doubt that parenting is not effective without God.

My husband and I have five kids at home, Lizzi (16), Abi (14), Emily (13), Kaylie (11) and Sam (7).  With them come a handful of what I lovingly call “bonus kids” (a term I stole from my sister) who come and go regularly and who seem to have found a safe place here in our home.  Then, there is my oldest (step-daughter, but we never used that term), Ashleigh, who lives in Georgia with her husband and 2 beautiful daughters (and yes, that makes me a gramma, lol).  My girls’ father is deceased as a result of alcohol abuse.  My son’s biological father is not allowed to participate in his life due to similar and other issues.  My step-daughters spend half the week with us and half with their mom (who partners well with Kurt in parenting them, considering all the bouncing back and forth).  Among the bonus kids are parents with addiction, divorce and bouncing between homes, single moms, abusive parents, and even foster parents and imprisoned parents.  My husband and I were raised by Christian parents who love each other to this day and never wavered from their wedding vows or their commitment to their children.  Given the dynamics of the lives of our children, we have learned that we cannot parent like our parents did.  In fact, one of the scariest parts of parenting this bunch of kids is that we can in no way relate to much of what causes them to feel alone.  What we can do is come alongside them and love them in a manner that projects to them who God is, which means unconditionally.  It doesn’t mean that we don’t set boundaries and guidelines and expectations.  There is definite need for them to know right and wrong, and recognize the power of truth over lies.  We spend alot of time talking about choices and the consequences that come with them (both good and bad), focusing on the fact that someone else's bad choice doesn't justify a bad choice on our part.  Loving them unconditionally means teaching them that who they are is not defined by their mistakes or the mistakes of others (grace), and helping them stand and become rooted in Jesus.  Showing them how to love as Jesus loved and helping to develop roots that lead to an unbreakable core, so that when life happens they will place their trust in God, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that He is there with them no matter the circumstances, and therefore, enabling them to make solid choices throughout their lives.

Over the years I have taught my girls that friends are the family you choose, and then there are the relatives.  Ha!  It sounds funny, but we all have those family members that rub us wrong and we love them anyway....why?  Because they are family!  How?  By learning to know them beyond the annoying surface, because let's face it......the ones that rub us wrong probably married in and we have to take time to learn why our beloved family member fell for them, OR we married into them. Which brings us to "never judge a book by it's cover" and "there's always more to the story".  I try to encourage them to look deeper, not only with family, but with others in general.  So, here it is again.  Grace. 

Last week in class our professor commented that it is easy to show grace and mercy to someone who is humble, but not so much to someone who is judging you.  Clearly we want to judge them for being judgemental, but they deserve God's mercy too.  My response to that was "God's mercy, yes.  Shelly's mercy might be a whole different story."  I kind of have to giggle when I consider the look he gave me as he moved past my comment.  But, the truth is that I was speaking from deep pain.  In the last year I have felt judged more times than I care to count by a small group of relatives (ya know, the family you don't choose) who do not know me or seem to want to know me, they weren't around during the first 14 years of my parenting life, and really aren't involved now.  People seem to prefer to stir the pot with half truths fostered by teenage drama than take the time to find out the whole truth.  And in the last two weeks it has become hurtful to my husband and my daughters.  I am hurt and angry.  How can I possibly show grace, when what I want to say is "hey, if ya want to come run my house you are welcome to start with the laundry"????  Especially when we have tried to offer open communication (which I struggle with, since I don't feel I need to seek approval of my household operations from anyone other than the man I chose to marry).  For those who read my Good Friday post, I'm feeling a bit like Mary.........only I'm clinging to a big rock to throw back at my accusers.  How do I drop this rock and lift my eyes to find the gentle gaze of the Savior when all I hear is "stone her!!"?? And honestly, who am I kidding?  I barely have strength left to hold the rock.  I can't possibly throw it no matter how badly I want to.  And yet, if I let go of the rock I wish to throw, then I can look to the rock on which I stand and find strength to be more productive than rock throwing.  Remember?  Mary was among the first to know Jesus has risen.  Aaahh, AMAZING GRACE.  Stay focused, and breathe, whatever you do...don't pick the rock back up.  Just keep taking the next right step (a precious relative who I choose to call friend taught me that line), and I have learned over the years that the next right step is never easy, but I have also learned that it nearly always provides eventual peace.  The challenge is usually in hearing God's instruction as to what the next right step is, so sometimes I have to stand in one place, shut my mouth, and listen patiently (I might have also mentioned that I am NOT the most patient little critter on the planet!).

The glorious thing about grace is that it is an unearned gift.  We can't earn it.  And since it was freely given to us, we must also pass it on.  Humans are messy and complicated, and sometimes never fully understood by each other.  For this reason, I am deeply grateful in the midst of my wrestling for a mighty God, who, by grace.......offers me peace.  In that gratitude I seek to act and react accordingly.  This morning in the bright sun light and the cool breeze God gently reminded me of much darker storms that He alone carried me and my children through.  I am blessed beyond measure, and grateful even as I struggle to reconcile God's grace with that of my own.  I can honestly share that even in my pain and anger, I trust Him.  Through Him I can and will find peace and the capacity to forgive.

Finally, this week the longest game of Hide and Seek known to most of us came to an end when Navy Seals put an end to the life of Osama Bin Laden.  It seems unreal.  Abi didn't even know who he was (let us realize she was 4 at the time of 9/11).  I haven't watched any of the news coverage.  I saw Obama give his big speech and became annoyed that there are those who will give him far more credit than he deserves.  Beyond that, I struggled, like many Christians with how rejoicing in the death of this evil man balanced with my faith.  The conclusion that I have come to is that we ought to walk humbly.  Grateful for the peace that comes from a great big mighty God, who can provide us with the means to conquer enemies in order to provide safety and comfort for His people (again......grace), and yet remembering that pride comes before a fall.  I am grateful everyday for the men and women who willingly serve and for the sacrafices made.  May God continue to bless the USA and grant us continued safety.  (And maybe lower gas prices?  LOL)

I guess it simply comes down to this:  Walk humbly.  Let God be the judge.  And in faith, continue to seek the next right step, no matter the storm you may be in the midst of right now.   There is grace to be felt by ALL.  We are not alone.  Jesus said "be of good cheer for I have overcome the world". 

Good Friday..........

When I got the call asking me to read the part of Mary Magdalene in the Good Friday service at our church I was like a giddy little girl!  And when I hung up the phone and explained to my daughters who she was and my delight in the privilege of portraying her the response was "you're going to play a whore in church?"  followed by laughter and further delight in the joy of sweet release.  What amazing love Jesus has for us and how precious His grace truly is!

You see, Mary M. is the woman who was dragged by the "religious" folks to the square where Jesus was because she had been caught in the act of adultery.  The law said that she was to be stoned and this was their way of challenging Jesus.  I have to wonder how many of those men who were ready to stone her had indulged in her "services".  I can only imagine her fear and her feelings of inadequacy and that she probably felt condemned and deserving of death.  I imagine that in many ways death might have seemed like a way out of the mess she had lived in for some time.  I picture her broken in spirit and physically worn and exhausted, huddled in the midst of this crowd at the feet of Jesus. I'm certain she anticipated harsh judgement and physical pain that probably would pale in comparison to the deep soul pain she already lived with as they presented the question of punishment to this man who had already begun to radically change the face of "religion".  And then..........in a manner which only Jesus could, he softly spoke "let him who is without sin cast the first stone".  In the moments that followed the crowd began one by one to drop their stones, acutely aware of their own short comings and realizing their own need for grace.  As I consider what Mary must have felt lifting her face to realize there was no one left to accuse her, it hits the deepest part of me every single time I consider her story how freeing it must have been when Jesus looked into her eyes and said "go, and sin no more".  He saved her life, and offered her a new one.  Just like that.

So, tonight I portrayed her in her grief.  She had again been at the feet of Jesus, only this time it was His life they were after and there was nothing she could do to save this man who had rescued her in so many ways.  How awful and how deeply painful it must have been to see Him suffer and wait there at the foot of the cross.  To hold His mother as they wept and to watch as guards cast lots for his clothing.  How empty and scared they all must have felt.  And being held to custom, they couldn't even tend to his body.......

THEN, after the Sabbath had passed this "whore" (as my daughters so eloquently put it) was among the women who went to the tomb, intending to care for His body, only to find herself among the first to know that He had risen.  Just as He said that He would.  Now, not only had He rescued her here on this earth, but He had provided her a bridge to eternity.  Really??  From the reputation of a whore, to a follower and servant of Jesus, to a place with the Father in heaven.  In my mind there is no rags to riches story that compares.  And the most beautiful part?  It can be everyone's story. 

I love this story.  Mary Magdalene is by far my favorite.  Jesus did alot of radical things.  He operated WAY outside of the box.  He performed miracle after miracle.  But on that day, He simply met Mary and everyone in that square right where they were in that moment.  It was life changing for her.  Today, His grace is life changing for me and anyone else who will allow themselves to experience it fully.

In my mind, we all play a part in the story of Mary on some level.  Not because we are all out committing sexual sin, but we all have junk in our lives.  Maybe we are playing the role of the judge in spite of our own sin, or maybe we are simply so deep into our own mess that we couldn't look up even if we wanted to.  And maybe, just maybe in the sweet presence of Jesus we can drop our stones or pick up our face to see gentle forgiveness and grace.  Because we, too, can go away changed forever by a loving savior and an empty tomb.

As Good Friday comes to a close and the last words of Jesus on the cross, "It is finished", stick in my mind, and as we look forward to Sunday morning and the celebration of His resurrection, I pray heavily for peace and lift my face to look into the face of a radical savior who went the distance.  May we all experience that sweet release that Mary Magdalene found.  Happy Easter! :)

A Little Piece of My Journey.........

A couple of months ago I was presented with the opportunity to read "Real Church" by Dr. Larry Crabb.  I was particularly intrigued with this book when it was randomly added to the materials for the class I was taking.  I have been a Christian my whole life.  I’m blessed to have grown up with Christian parents who lived up to their wedding vows as well as their commitment to Jesus.  There is no doubt that when God called my mother home, she ran right into His arms!  I have loved God and have both questioned and blindly trusted Him through some pretty big storms in my life.  I love His music, His word, and His people (ALL of them).  I spent a good number of years away from church in spite of my relationship with God and all its ups and downs.  And I must confess, though I want to lead and be a part of the solution, I still often struggle with church.

Dr. Crabb boldly states “I don’t much like going to church.” (pg.xiv)  I was so relieved to see those words in print and from someone who is a renowned author and teacher!  Delighted to know that I am not alone, I had to read and absorb every word on every page.  It spoke loud and clear and helped me to process my own feelings about church.  In this statement he captured much of what I have felt for years……he says “My soul aches to be part not of man-made systems, buildings, programs, and staff, but of a living, listening, loving, longing community of people who share life together as participants in divine life, people who are learning to live loved and who, therefore, are profoundly changing.”  (pg. xxiii)  There it is!  That’s what I want!  As I stated before, I love God’s people (ALL of them).  I need and want to be near them, especially those who are seeking and may not even know yet that they belong to God.  I draw my energy from people, so why is church nothing more than an annoying obligation rather  than a place of spiritual growth??

Dr. Crabb shares a story of a young woman who he led to Jesus and invited to church.  When she came to his church she was greeted by an elder who noticeably looked down upon her as he insisted she put a doily on her head.  He witnessed the interaction and watched as the girl exited during the final prayer and realized that the elder’s greeting “reflected a general attitude among the leaders of that congregation that following church order as they understood it trumped loving new believers”.  He didn’t go back.  I can’t help but think that this type of occurrence is all too typical.  How often do we let formalities get in the way of simply loving each other in the manner which Jesus loved?  How many times do we allow our systems to alienate the lost even more?  And beyond the new believers and those who are seeking, how many Christians fall out because the system is unforgiving and unaccepting?  One of the things I most dislike about church is that we often get so caught up in schedule and formalities that we miss what the Holy Spirit has to offer in that moment and we miss all that other believers have to offer in their brokenness.  In my mind many of our formalities build walls and leave people closed both to each other and to all that God has to offer.

I appreciate the journey in section one regarding “why” we should go to church.  Dr. Crabb addresses answers to that question that don’t work for him and quite frankly, don’t work for me. 

1.        It has not been my experience that going to church “made my life better”.  Simply attending church on Sunday morning has not one time been the thing that brought healing for me.  Healing has proven to be a process of clinging to God, seeking His spirit, and the open hearted love of certain ones of His people who were willing to be open.  I do, however, long to reach that level of loving myself for God’s sake……I just don’t see mere church attendance taking me there.

2.       I have not seen my church changing our world in ways that any good hearted atheist couldn’t.  As Dr. Crabb points out, people can do good works without Jesus.  We can “be missional for God without being close to God”.  We can manufacture experiences with music, lighting, and even powerful sermons that leave us feeling as if we have “experienced God” and motivate us to reach out.  However, as Dr. Crabb points out, if we aren’t grounded in God’s hope we become “addicted” to the need to be emotionally stimulated at all times in order to do God’s work.  I agree that God wants our hearts and He wants us to be faithful in hope at all times, even when we can’t “feel” Him.

3.       I do think that church can lead a person to salvation, but most don’t go deep enough to guide me through righteous living.  Not because the sermons are lacking or the praise and worship isn’t “right”.  Because most members seem to be far too busy guarding their walls and making sure everything appears as it should.  It seems that most are not willing to reveal their reality in order to allow us to effectively bond as a family and grow as God would have us grow.   There isn’t a connection beyond the surface that inspires and challenges me.  I want to know the hearts of others and I want to share mine.  I want us to genuinely love each other through life’s moments in the way that Jesus loves, without requirement.  I feel like grace is missing.

As I read on into the kind of church Dr. Crabb describes that he would want to go to I found myself nodding almost constantly in agreement.  Finally!  Someone has verbalized all that I’m feeling and had not found words for!  I desperately want to be surrounded by believers that not only know I’m a mess and that God is love, but who will openly acknowledge that we are ALL a mess!  Dr. Crabb states “I want to know that I’m seen and still wanted, that I can drop the pretense, shed the masks, and enjoy the soul-enlivening experience of looking bad in the presence of love.”  (Just before that he reminded us that God is love.  Pg. 60)

In the eyes of my heart one of the most amazing things about Jesus as He walked this earth was the way that He met people right where they were in life.  I often think of Mary and how she must have felt surrounded by a crowd of people ready to stone her (probably many of them men who had indulged in her “services”).  Can you imagine looking into the face of Jesus as He challenged them all in their own sin and as He released her of hers??  He knew she was a mess and He knew her condemners were each a mess of their own.  He met them ALL right where they needed to be met on that day.  

I stated earlier that I grew up in a Christian home.  I knew all the right things to say and all the “buzz words” and clichés.  The word grace has been in my vocabulary forever (seriously!), but I didn’t comprehend it until it took over my whole existence when my marriage fell apart at the hands of my husbands alcoholism.  Dr. Crabb makes the statement that “grace has no felt power in our lives until it surprises the hell out of us”.  YES!  It is so true!  I didn’t know God or His grace like I thought I did until I began to really talk to God about what was going on in me AND to allow His Holy Spirit to take over and minister to me in ways I could have never experienced without the deep, empty, “soul pain” I was experiencing at that time of my life.  Sadly, this was not something I was able to find help with in church.  I found my help in God, but certainly not in a body of believers who couldn’t get past the surface to pray with me or for me or to even attempt to see what was happening and allow me to feel loved and wanted in spite of the mess that was my life.

The truth is that I could take this book chapter by chapter, even page by page and apply it to my life and that of my church.  I wholly believe that most if not all churches should take a closer look at how we relate to one another.  I believe that the universal church as a whole does a fine job at doing great deeds.  We feed the hungry, we shelter the homeless, we care for the sick.  We do numerous outreach projects like school supplies and mitten trees and coat drives.  We send our people out to do all kinds of community service and mission work.  The real question for me is what are we doing for each other?  What are we doing within our body of believers to grow and develop spiritually?  Why can’t we get past the surface of people’s lives and meet the needs of the believers so that in everyday life, believers can meet others where they are and said “others” can come into the body and love and be loved and grow to go out and do the same…….isn’t that what Jesus modeled for us??  Many, if not most churches are good (even great) at bringing people in the doors.  I want a church that goes deeper.  I want a church that will somehow find a way past all the plastic on the surface and create a bond that forms a true church family where folks live and love and grow and share.  A family that brings in new members and shares the love that Jesus lived.  Where is it??

As I read “Real Church” and identified repeatedly with Dr. Crabb I found myself on a journey that helped me to resolve some of my own feelings and thoughts.  I still struggle with church.  I’m still struggling to understand my own calling from God particularly where my church is concerned.  However, just as Dr. Crabb seemed to verbalize all my thoughts and feelings as to why I struggle, he also had these words which seem to portray where I am today.  He states on page 145 regarding “real church”:  “Can I find it?  Here’s a better question!  Could I stop complaining about what I find missing in church and stop criticizing what I think is wrong and instead, start celebrating whatever God is doing (He’s not on vacation, waiting for renewed energy to get back in the battle) and start contributing to wherever it’s happening?”  I even wrote in the margin next to this “me” and underlined it.  I mused at Dr. Crabb’s analogies of “Elijah Syndrome” and “Jonah Syndrome”.  It struck home as I have recently referred to my own church as my “Ninevah”.  I often wonder, why bother when nobody seems interested in going deeper.  If they are so satisfied, then why would God ask me to digging??  Clearly it’s because he wants us all to move into “Jesus Syndrome”.  I cannot, nor would I want to deny that.  So, here I am.  Attending regularly and seeking to seize every opportunity to connect with people in the body that is the church just as I have done outside of the church, finding ways to meet people where they are.  The phrase that resonates with me as I continue on my journey particularly regarding church is “if you aren’t part of the solution, you become part of the problem”.

As Dr. Crabb wrapped things up, he made four clear points.  I underlined statements in all four. (pg. 152)

1.        “A real church knows that tough times are ahead, already present for many, tough times that serve a purpose in God’s perfect plan.”

2.       “A real church pleads with God’s Spirit, the Spirit of holiness, to keep spiritually forming its people until they see Jesus as their supreme treasure no matter how they feel or how others treat them or how their lives are going.”

3.       “A real church aims toward spiritual community, where souls connect, where shame weakens, where sin surfaces, where failure meets grace, where irritations soften, where holy desire grows.”

4.       “A real church knows that doing good in this world has little redemptive power unless the do gooders know Jesus, resemble Jesus, and are relating like Jesus in the energy of Jesus, in their homes and churches first, and then in the culture around them.”

One of the most important things I have discovered in my journey regarding church is that I want these things from church from such a deep place in me that I have become willing to accept God’s call on me to help make it happen in whatever way He chooses to put me to work, even if it is in “Ninevah”.  So, as Dr. Crabb requested on page 154, I will continue to pray for revival.  We should all pray for revival in our own lives and in our own churches as well as in the universal church.  Join me?

March Madness

Aaaahhhhh...March!  Spring is coming and winter is still holding on.  The weather roller coaster is CRAZY!   AND WE GET TO SPRING FORWARD!!  I love to spring forward.  I love that I get to see my friend the sun for a little longer in the evenings and I love the indication that spring is near.  OH YEAH, and there's basketball.  Lots and lots of basketball. There is talk of tournaments, and big 12, and final four and championships (most of which I don't know much about).  In Kansas we are fortunate to have 2 great teams to support (yes, my last name is Westfall, and yes, I just acknowledged TWO great teams). We like basketball at our house, but we like warm weather and sunshine MUCH better.  We watch some, but our schedule doesn't really allow for alot of it.  I know for many it's probably hard to believe that we don't adjust our schedules.  The truth of the matter is that I don't know that I could keep track enough to arrange to watch anyway.  Maybe someone could write a March Madness for Dummies book??

Actually, we have our own brand of March Madness around here.  March rolls in with the anticipation of Sam's birthday on the 8th.  Planning a party is challenging at best, but we managed to have a big family party with the coolest dragon cake ever!  (Thanks Ticia!)  Many have heard me talk about the fact that Sam was NOT part of MY plan.  That 7 years ago, God reminded me that He is in control no matter my circumstances as He blessed me with this charming and incredibly ornery little angel (ok, angel when he sleeps).  The joy he has brought in times of pure darkness can only by God-given.  I was 34 at the time, and was absolutely convinced that I did not want to have him after my own birthday on the 14th of March.  So, God did allow me this tiny little piece of  "control" as I was induced just 6 days before my 35th birthday and was absolutely delighted to have this little human OUT OF ME.  What I have learned in the years to follow is that turning a year older 6 days after my baby turns a year older isn't exactly good for my mental health.  However, springing forward the weekend of my birthday is like a little victory in the midst of my aging dilemma.  AND, this year I got to have an incredibly fun dinner at Kobe Steakhouse with Kurt and ALL FIVE kids.  It was a rare and wonderful treat!

As the first half of March is filled with apparent silliness, there was another life changing event on the 15th in 2004.  The phone rang as I was feeding the baby and I couldn't get to it, but they called back and I still couldn't get to it.  So, when I laid Sam down I went to check the caller ID and it was my sister-in-law (whom I never quit claiming as family after the divorce, even to this day).  I felt a little panicked as she didn't typically call at this time of day.  I called her back to learn that Lizzi and Abi's father had passed away.  This was shocking and not shocking all at the same time.  John had battled alcoholism for years which was the demise of our marriage and many other key relationships in his life.  But many of us (yes, including me although I couldn't live that way) loved him anyway.  There had been numerous moments in life where I felt that alcoholism had won battles, insignificant and sadly some very significant.  At this moment, though, it seemed as though alcoholism had won the war.  So as I looked at this sleeping infant and his father (who was a whole other set of complications in our lives), the pain overwhelmed me.  How would I tell the girls?  How would they handle all of this?  Lizzi was 9 and Abi was 7, and as all children in their shoes do, they had dreams of their Daddy becoming a healthy part of their lives again someday.  Dreams that I shared with them deeply.  My mind raced and my heart ached.  When I told them, they barely responded.  Abi, of course shed some tears, and Lizzi just looked at me.  In the following days we went through all the proper motions.....traveling to the funeral to be with family, and all the formalities of paperwork and benefits for the girls.  The girls took it all in stride and lived their young lives quite normally.  When I expressed concern for their emotional well being, a wise school counselor explained to me that this was normal and that grief would come later for them (maybe years).  And she was right, it was Freshman year for each of them.  And every year, we ease our way through March, then Father's day in June, and then his birthday in August.

I have to share that parenting them has been a beautiful adventure.  As time passed and events occurred which prevented Sam's father from participating in his raising, as well, I have learned all the reasons why parenting was designed to be a 2 person job (minimum of 2, that is.).  I also found that we have truly amazing friends and family!  I am so very proud of Lizzi and Abi.  They are becoming young women that I know their  Dad would be so proud to know and that I am honored to call daughters and friends.  We have learned to be quite a team over the years, and we continue to learn to let God fill in the gaps.  Sam continues to be a source of grounding for all of us.  And, as we have been blessed with the addition of Kurt, Emily, and Kaylie in our lives we are feeling more and more "normal" (whatever, that is) as time passes.  The good has far out weighed the bad, and Lizzi and Abi have a glorious capacity to focus on that fact.

SO, here it is March 16th and we rejoin the more traditional madness of March.  Grateful as we focus on the season of Lent and the sacrifice Jesus CHOSE to make at the cross.  Prayerful for many others in our lives who are fighting battles and slaying demons of their own.  And hopeful as we look ahead to warmer weather, volleyball victories, forensics tournaments, soccer games, connecting with family and friends and Easter, the celebration of the ultimate victory.  Jesus' resurrection.  The bridge that allows us to be forgiven and also to forgive.  To have life, and have it more abundantly.  I love this time of year!  A time of reflection and renewal for all.

King of Even My Laundry

The logistics of running a household of seven are nutty at best and after our first year as a family I am proud to say that the only major sticking point is LAUNDRY.  Don't get me wrong, there's lots of little snags with that many personalities under one roof, but those conflicts pass.  Laundry, however, is an ongoing challenge.  Who does it?  And if for some reason (like you don't bother to take it out of your room) it doesn't get done and you run out of pants, then what?   Do we have certain days for laundry?  Does everyone (except of course the 6 year old) do their own?  How does that effect the utility bills?  Will the washer and dryer run nonstop seven days a week for ridiculously small loads??  Nothing starts my day worse than being woke up with conversations of laundry....."I don't have any socks", "Did the jeans make it to the dryer?".........You get the point.  So, at my wits end on Sunday morning as we stepped out the door I announced "Family meeting after church!  Hot topic?  LAUNDRY."  As you might imagine, this thrilled my family!  Ill with the topic, Mr. Westfall automatically locked up and off to church we went.  (One might think that I would learn to time such announcements a little better......but let me remind you that I am a work in progress.)

In the week leading up to this I had been reading an intense book for the class I am taking called "Real Church" by Dr. Larry Crabb.  It had prompted for me a deep journey through why I had abandoned church for so long as well as why church has become important to me again, what I want to see in the body of believers I am a part of, and what I can do to contribute.  There were some very dark moments in this journey for me, but the outcome is amazing and I would recommend the book to anyone who struggles with "church" rather than God.  It could be an entire series of blogs for me, but for now that is just where I was last week.  In addition to that I have been working on a presentation over the Lord's Supper and am to do that portion of a service my class is holding on Thursday this week.  Coincidentally, Sunday was communion Sunday at our church.   

Communion Sunday is precious to me, and I LOVE it when all the kids and my husband are there so that we can partake as a family.  I was so thrilled that everyone was up and moving and would be there.  However, now the laundry demon was following us to church.  I could feel Kurt's tension as he sat next to me, dreading the impending family meeting.  Sam was sitting on my lap having his donuts and reading the bulletin (SO cute!).  He read "Holy" and began sounding it out and I helped him finish "Communion".  In all his 6 years of wisdom and glory his face lit up, "YAY!".  So, I took the opportunity to ask "What's that?" He told me it's when we dip the bread in the juice and it's "yummy!" .  To which I replied "why do we do that?"  And my high strung six year old looked at me and said "because it is the body and blood of Jesus."  He gave it NO thought.  He KNEW.  I then asked him again "why?"  and his response was a very matter of fact "to worship God".  When it was time to go to Sunday School, he was deeply wounded because he wouldn't get to participate, so when the time came I sent Lizzi after him and we all worshiped together by taking the bread and the juice, the body and blood of the savior. 

In my research earlier in the week I was heavily confronted with the question of "Why?".  Why do we take communion?  Different denominations have different doctrines and theologies and if you dig very deep, it becomes far more complicated than I believe Jesus meant for it to be.  When I go to the Bible, the book that counts, in all accounts of the Lord's Supper Jesus simply says "Do this in remembrance of Me".  That's it.  That's why.  Because He is my King, and He said to.  He instructed us to remember.  Remember that He gave it all.  Lived His life perfectly when He walked this earth, proved God's love for us time and time again through miracle after miracle, suffered and died, and YES rose again so that we can be forgiven and have life.  Of all the things He asked us to do, the bread and the wine are the easiest.  Think about it, sometimes its really difficult to love your neighbor.....sometimes it's difficult to love your family (remember the laundry??), but when I'm handed the bread and told "this is the body of Christ broken for you" and as I dip it in the cup and hear "the blood of Christ shed for you" I am reminded that He is my King.  That's why.  That's why I do it.  And that's why I cherish it.  And that's why I love nothing more than when my family is there to do it together.  To remember our King.  To be reminded that He is King of ALL  (even my stinkin' laundry!).  I am grateful in ways you could never even imagine to know that it's all under control and I don't have to fight to control it.  Maybe communion should happen daily so that I will remember my King.

After church I thought of my upcoming opportunity to offer the Lord's Supper to other believers including my peers and it made my stomach turn.  I am not worthy to offer communion!  What on earth was Dr. Wise thinking when he put ME in that spot??  I put it to the back of my mind and went home to hold the family meeting.  We brainstormed together another solution we hope will work (I think my husband thought I was going to line them all up and rip them apart! Ha!).  And we all went about our day.  Watched the Super Bowl with family and ate plenty of food.  All the while in the back of my mind I'm mulling over this "opportunity" to present communion on Thursday.  It just lingered and my stomach turned if I payed much attention to it.

This morning as I prayed and thought about Thursday's service, I thought about my son's response to me yesterday......it was so simple.  And I thought about my feelings the other night about how complicated we seem to make it when it truly is so simple.  And I remembered picking the kids up from camp at Shepherd's Fold last summer and hearing them talk about their Friday night communion service (a beloved tradition at camp), and how the bread tasted so good that they all kept asking for "more Jesus".  Remember?  Sam said it was "yummy", also.  And they are so right!  It does taste SO sweet!  To be loved and saved and have the opportunity to remember the King who gave us the opportunity to be forgiven.  I am so deeply humbled to have that portion of the service on Thursday, but I'm not sick over it anymore.  I got the message loud and clear this morning, give me more Jesus! 

Time Flies!

It is absolutely unreal to me that this year is nearly over.  It has been said that whatever you are doing when the new year rolls in is what you will spend your year doing, so make it good.  I have found that to be true in some sense every year.  However, when 2010 arrived I was lying in a hospital bed recovering from a nasty virus.  I was supposed to be packing to move and planning a small wedding with my knight in shining armor, but instead was removed from my kids and my work staff for that week following Christmas.  I was rediculously sick and literally slept for seven days.  I was forced to depend on others and nearly everytime I opened my eyes my knight was there in the chair next to my bed.  My dearest and closest friend (Christy) had me placed on her floor in the hospital so she could effectively oversee my care and Kurt only left when necessary.  The new year arrived as Kurt kept me company and my nurse (who was hand picked by Christy) brought us sparkling cider for a midnight toast.  Our wedding was just 10 days away and the move just 9 days and my staff had survived the year end madness in my store without me.  My sister-in-law had come to my house and spent a day packing with my daughters.  My father (the ultimate knight in shining armor) had kept my son.  And some friends had graciously kept track of my high spirited and very independent teenage daughters. 

I had been on my own with my kids and an amazing support system of friends and family for a long time.  Even with a husband and later a significant other, I had found myself parenting alone and became quite independent.  Kurt and I started dating in September of 2007 and he took some getting used to, as he is a "take care of business" kind of guy.  On December 10 of 2009 he proved to be the one man who had the capacity to render me speechless when he proposed in the middle of one of my "I can do it my damn self" types of speeches while standing in what is now OUR kitchen.  The wedding was scheduled for January 10, exactly 30 days later, and I had to go and get sick in the middle of that short planning and packing period and during the busiest week of the year at my job.

What a way to ring in the new year!  The last thing I wanted to think about was spending the coming year fighting illness, which is what it looked like as that is how I brought in the year.  However, as I look back to that moment of toasting in the new year and consider all that week had consisted of, I have to look now at what 2010 has held for me.  I got a big dose that week of depending on others.  More than that, I got a HUGE dose of depending on the man in the chair next to me, loving and supporting me, checking on my children, updating my family, and communicating with my caregivers.  Accident?  I think not.  Ten short days later, I walked down the isle and committed my life knowing without a doubt that he was able and willing to be all that I needed him to be.  What an amazing gift that week turned into! 

As for how that ties into my year?  Well, the year has been a whirlwind of learning for all 7 of us.  Learning to live together, to depend on each other, respecting each other's boundaries.  Kurt and I are figuring out how to parent together (and I happen to think we have done well, all things considered).  The basement remodel was completed, I started back to school, Kurt completed his home inspector's course, and we are looking ahead to new projects in the coming year.  Through it all, I have continued to realize what I realized as the new year began.....it's okay to lean on this man.  God blessed me with a wonderful companion and I entered 2010 with new recognition of that and spent the year experiencing it.  So, yes, I still believe there is some truth to it.  Whatever you are doing when the new year rolls in is what you will spend your year doing, so make it good.  Happy New Year!

December 25, 2010

This morning after the opening of presents I gathered up the mess and moved to the kitchen to clear the way for preparations of the family meal.  As I emptied the dishwasher, loaded it, and wiped down counters I realized that this would be the first time in 11 years that Christmas dinner would be held in my home.  ELEVEN YEARS.  I knew it had been a very long time, but I honestly try to avoid the math on these kinds of things.  Not only does it age me, but sometimes the truth is painful.  And the truth is, that the last 11 years has held a long and complicated journey for Lizzi, Abi, and me.  Six years ago Samuel joined us on our journey and much like the Samuel of the Old Testament, he proved to be somewhat of a spiritual stabilizer for all of us in the long run.  Three years ago, Mr. Westfall joined us on our journey (boy was he in for a shock!) and he, too, has been quite the stabilizer for all of us.  Last year at Christmas time Kurt and I had just gotten engaged and I was beginning to allow myself to feel hopeful.  Hopeful for a future with a family, a home, a safe haven for all 7 of us.  This year, on this day, the birthday of my Savior, for the first time in 11 Christmases I breathed deep and there it was....PEACE.  As the morning progressed I thought of my mom.  I'll bet she thoroughly enjoys the fact that my teens got us up very early and then went back to bed after opening gifts just like I used to do.  And I'm certain she got a good laugh as I popped the bag of stuffing cubes open all over the kitchen!  I was trying to crunch them up as I knew she used crumbs, not cubes.  So, clearly, my stuffing would turn out all wrong. Not like mom's.  Then, of all things....I was out of poultry seasoning!  The peace that had given me such extreme joy just hours earlier had dissipated into a complete melt down.  As my knight in shining armor calmly cleaned up the mess from the stuffing explosion, he did as he always does.  Kurt has this amazing way of giving me exactly enough space to process and enough attention for me to know he's there supporting me, even in my phychosis.  Abi called Grampa and my mom still had some poultry seasoning in the cabinet (it was the least she could do since I'm sure she was laughing at me from heaven), so the girls went over and got it.  I finished the stuffing and my ever supportive knight cut up potatos as I peeled. Finally, everything was in the oven and family arrived.  Eventually, Kurt pulled the brisket, pork roast, and ribs from the smoker, and dinner was served.  But wait!  Half way through the meal Lizzi realizes that we had forgotten to pull out the fruit salad (another of my mother's dishes) which was notoriously called banana salad by my girls as babies.  She gets it out of the refrigerator, spoons some onto her plate, sits down and says "why are there no bananas?".  This time rather than an all out melt down, I laughed and added the bananas.  The BBQ was perfect as always, the stuffing turned out fine, the potatos needed a little salt, and the bread was late getting done (just like mom).  We visited, laughed, remembered, made new memories, and loved each other.  Christmas dinner in my "home" for the first time in 11 years was a glorious success!  Not because it was the perfect meal, but because it was in our home and there is peace.  Because I am so blessed by a BIG and MIGHTY God who has carried us on this journey and who will never leave us or forsake us.  He came in the flesh, humbly and quietly and traveled a journey of His own so that we could live and be all that we were created to be in this life and join Him in heaven when we're done. My heart is overwhelmed with gratitude tonight as I finally sit and reflect on the last few days and the last 11 years... the friends, the family, and the blessings.  I am blessed beyond measure, and this Christmas more than ever I am so grateful for the birth of the baby who later saved us all.