What I really want to put as my Facebook status, but could never...

26 March 2010


...is really sad.
...is misunderstood and misheard.
...doesn't like it when people raise their voices at her.
...doesn't like it when people put words in her mouth and interrupt her before she gets a chance to finish her thoughts outloud.
...wants to apologize, but isn't really sure what she should apologize for.
...wishes she could clearly communicate what she wants to say.
...doesn't want to be a martyr (figuratively, speaking).
...wants to feel adequately represented without feeling inadequate.
...comes away from meetings feeling like a child.
...thinks it's time to let go of that sad little girl on the inside.
...wants to not care about what people think of her.
...thinks some (not all) American conservatives are losing their minds.
...doesn't want to feel ashamed of supporting healthcare for all people.
...is a political independent, maybe even slightly left of centre, and it doesn't make her evil or less of a Christ follower. It may even mean she's attempting to follow Him more closely. 
...is afraid that no matter where she lives or how old or mature she gets, she might always be a misfit.
...thinks it's really, really, really hard to be a mom of three in another culture, and she wishes that feeling that way didn't imply she was weak.
...will someday be so spiritual that all that other crap will be meaningless.

Anyone else want to share their secret, shameful Facebook status?

Boy, Published

20 March 2010

When I write things about my children, I always kinda wonder if people are bored by them. I mean, there are loads of moms everywhere blogging about their kids everyday. And of course, I think my children and the relationship I have with them is extraordinary, but then again - so do most moms. So when someone reads one of these stories and is touched by it, I get all warm and gooey on the inside. Because I do think what I have with them is special. And really, any story about a mother and her children is, at the heart, a story of survival, love, loss, and joy.

So behold, The Boy, will be published in an online magazine for women living and serving cross-culturally. I'm not sure my story is the typical fare, but I'm more than thrilled to be able to share with the masses a short story of me and my boy. The firstborn. It's a summary, really. The true, unabridged story, will be saved for a later date.

It's a doozy.

A Full House

One thing we've discovered living here is, when home alone or when not seeing people regularly, we feel down in the dumps. But when our house is full or when we're in a community of other people, meeting and greeting, sharing memories and trading jokes, we feel full and free and merry.

Last night (scratch that - we're a week on now!), our house was full. It was Matt's birthday, and having not had many birthday parties as a child or young adult, we decided this was the year. The guest list was simple and the atmosphere a bit crazy with the kids running about. But there was laughter! And smiles! And hugs! And stories! At one point I was upstairs feeding and rocking the baby to sleep and I would hear roars of laughter below... to me, that felt more like home than anything had in a long time.