My relationship with Evie is not always easy.  There are moments of beauty, kitchen-dancing, book-reading, nose-tickling, giggles over lunch and happy smiles during diaper changes.  Today she pooped in the potty.  Celebration.  Glorious moments of triumph and wellness and bright and shiny feelings.

And then there are moments, sometimes days, of pain.  Literal and emotional pain.  Some of it’s toddler and some of it is brokenness.  Yesterday in Kroger, kicking, biting, lashing out with razor nails trying to get a piece of Mommy, trying to be the boss and take control with sweaty fists and clenched jaw and hitting hitting hitting any piece of me that she could find.  I finally had to push the cart from the other side.  Smiling people making “Awwww cute” noises and me nodding as I’m dying inside just a little bit at a time.  Feeling rejected, feeling the unfairness of her anger bullets.

Love is not a feeling.  Love is action.  I have to strap on my mom balls, pull up my big girl pants and love her.  Love her with consistent boundaries.  Love her with my eyes and gentle hands when I don’t feel gentle inside.  But sometimes I just plain feel rejected.  And 10 minutes later, her mystery rage is over and she’s smiles and giggles again.  And the scars from her nails still on my hands…and the scars still in my heart.

And how many times have I scarred my Father’s hands?  Scars from my nails, scars from THE nails piercing flesh of my Savior?  How many times do I reject Him and still He loves loves loves me?  With gentle eyes and gentle words He loves.  And I reject Him by trying to control my life.  I reject Him with my mistrust.  I run to other gods for comfort.  I scorn him and choose my own way again and again.  I am hitting biting toddler trying to find purchase on skin and cause pain.

And when I return to Him, He welcomes me.  He meets me where I am.  Again and again, He extends grace.

Sigh.  To be that kind of mother.  He is my model.  Every new gift of a day, I will choose His way.  I will choose patience.  I will choose sacrifice.  I will love in action.  And I am not Him, so I will fail.  But I must get back up and love love love again and again.

Today I felt myself losing the battle and words beginning to fly and I sucked everything back in, found Meredith Andrews on my iPod, and reaching hands to the ceiling, I began to twirl, face lifted, soaking in grace from the source of all grace, the Creator of grace.  Healing, opening, releasing.  I remembered how to smile.  I kissed defiant forehead and beamed at my daughter gift.

And a song came on that zoomed me back to the intersection where I waited at the light, sobbing while choking out the words, “Take everything I have only to be Yours Lord, Yours Lord.  Take it from my hands, until I’m holding onto only You.”  The day we feared we might lose her forever.  The day we hit the worst and final obstacle in her adoption story.  And I drove to get dinner because I needed to get out and I needed to not cook and on the way home, this song.  And tears choked and sprang out and I sang take it.  Take everything.  Trust.

And now she’s here.  I laid her down at His feet.  And through His goodness He allowed me to pick her back up again and bring her home.  And today hearing that song again, gratitude rushed back into my heart.  My frustrated eyes melted into love eyes and I saw her again for the gift that she is.  A living testimony to God’s sweet grace in our home.

Love is action, and tomorrow is another opportunity to spring into it.

First full day without TV.  I worked a couple of puzzles with Elliott.  We went on a golf cart ride.  I read several chapters from two different books.  And then I stared longingly at the blank TV screen.  The kids are in bed.  This is my time.  My veg-out time.  And I have no veggie option.  This is so hard for me!  And so ridiculous that it IS so hard for me.

Yesterday, Alex called the cable company and told them to turn it off.  They informed him that because we were bundling internet/phone/TV, we’d only save $17/month by dropping it.  The DVR, all the channels, the special movie-watching stuff…only $17 extra dollars a month.  Blerg, but it’s not about the money, so he told them to cut it off and BAM!  Right then, the TV went black.  Oooooohhhh.  Weird.  So quiet.  Me no likey.

Let’s review.  So far for 2012, I’ve cut out gluten, dairy, television, and a van-full of items I do not need that are headed to be sold to benefit sweet girls who have been trafficked.  Gluten and dairy as a grand experiment with some allergies and behaviors happening in our household, television because I was plugging into IT instead of into God, and van items because, well, even though I thought we’d pared down over the last few years, we still have whole closets worth of crap that we just don’t need.  Everything from goodbye 20 extra teeshirts that I’m sick of washing to goodbye fancy silver bowl that I never use.  Goodbye cute little crocheted top thingy that I bought at Lizard Thicket and only wear twice a year to goodbye extra duvet and sham covers.  When you start to think you need a bigger house to hold all your junk, you have too much junk.  I want less junk and more kids to fit in this house.

The gluten-dairy thing started as a medical experiment and has become a spiritual one.  I feel like I’m fasting EVERY DAY.  I pretty much only ate cheese on bread or bread on cheese.  I served my kids mac n cheese four times a week.  And any bready crackery snack that went BOGO at Publix?  Sign me uppp.  So, without gluten and dairy to work with…I immediately lost 2 pounds.

Don’t worry.  I’ve gained them back!  I’m food shopping and cooking differently, we’re eating at home so much more, and we’re learning to tame the impulsive beast within that screams EAT MEEEE!!! at places like Panera and TCBY.  We’re eating more veggies, discovering new grains, and appreciating each bite.  I actually find myself hoping that this little experiment works and becomes permanent, because it’s made me realize that I eat to live.  I don’t live to eat.  And I’m grateful, so so so grateful.  I love eating at home more.  I’m baking more, making breakfast more.  I don’t want my kids to miss out, so I’m shoveling new recipes and new I-just-made-this-ups in their little faces.  Elliott’s started asking, “Does this have allergies in it?” every time I hand him something.  When I am out somewhere and have to deny myself something I love, it reminds me of the countless faces who eat posho and beans every day and are so very grateful for it.  I am grateful for the options I have – for gluten/dairy free cookies and the delectable discovery of the soy chai latte.  I am learning to savor.

Focusing on home, focusing on less (Seriously, read Jen Hatmaker’s “7.”  Seriously.  And also hilariously.), focusing on creating space, both in my drawers and in my mind, in my time.  No TV, ugh, I miss the mindless filling of the void.  But.  I’m excited to see what God places in this void, voiding the void and creating purpose where there wasn’t any.

So that’s January.  And Alex planning his winter trip to Uganda and me planning my summer trip to Uganda.  And a little thing we’ll call Operation Next Step that hopefully I’ll get to blog about next week.  2012 is off to a…start.  It’s starting off with a….  It’s….  2012 is happening.  Not sure where it’s going to land.  And the adventure is half the fun.

Everyone’s heard the talk about 2012 being the end of the world as we know it, Mayan calendar, whatever.  Jesus says that no one will know the day or hour, so I don’t give a lot of thought to prophecies about a specific time.  But I do give Jesus coming back a lot of thought.  I have no idea if it’ll be right now…or now…nope…maybe now…or if it’ll be several lifetimes from now…now…or now.  But we are to live like Jesus is coming back at any moment.  The Bible talks about being prepared for the Bridegroom.  So the question that I’ve been mulling over the past couple of weeks is if I’m to live like Jesus is coming back – because at some point He is, and even if it’s not in this lifetime, then the people around me are still going to meet Him at some point, in this life or the next – if I’m to live like Jesus is coming back, then what in my life needs to change?  Um, everything.  I’m feeling some radical changes headed our way.  We need them.  If Jesus is real and the Gospel is EVERYTHING to me, then is it okay to never mention Him in conversations with certain people?  If Jesus is coming back, is it okay for me to watch meaningless TV on the couch at night?  If Jesus is everything and He gave very specific instructions on how to live, is it okay to have whole closets of rarely used clothing when I’ve met people who have to tie their shirts together to keep them on and wear their pants backwards to keep their privates covered?  Shouldn’t my life look different?  If Jesus is real and He’s coming back and He’s everything to me…shouldn’t the urgency of the Gospel overtake everything I do?

As a stay-at-home mother, what does it look like to pour out my life for Jesus?  How do I make Him my all, the most important thing in my life, the reason for my life, my everything?  How do I exalt Him in my job, in my workplace?  I’ve been thinking about it lately.  Would He want me to focus all of my energy on raising two as-perfect-as-possible kids and giving them all my time and attention?  Making sure that all their needs are met at every moment and they are perfectly prepared for every situation?  Would He want me to do that at the expense of the millions of children who don’t have mothers?  Would He want me to leave all the other kids in orphanages until they age out and fall prey to trafficking in order to raise my two perfect kids and give them a safe, well-balanced, happy life?  Is that part of what’s creating our extreme sense of entitlement as Americans?  Maybe my kids NEED a large handful of other children sanding down their rough edges and teaching them that the world in fact does not turn around them.  It turns around Christ.  He is our everything.  Do I truly embrace that and model that with my choices as a mom?

This Christmas season I felt out of sync with everything.  The overabundance of our nation, my choices as a parent…and we’ve pared down in the last two years…a lot.  I mean, we’ve been on a simplicity path big-time the last two years…but I don’t think it’s enough.  I’m restless.  I’m teetering on the edge of still fitting in to my surroundings and wondering if I need to take that final plunge over the edge and stop fitting in altogether…and I don’t mean stop shaving my armpits.

We overcomplicate things.  Jesus simplifies everything.  Feed the hungry.  Clothe the naked.  Go and make disciples.  I feel constant stress from losing things, misplacing things, running around searching for STUFF.  Evie’s coats.  Evie’s dolls.  Elliott’s shoes.  Maybe if we had one coat instead of five, I’d do a better job of keeping up with it.

I have no idea what’s coming, but I know Who’s coming, whenever.  And I need to start living like He’s real.  I love watching TV.  I mean, LOVE it.  Like, on the couch at night, too lazy to get up and get a snack, LOVE it.  I get excited on the nights there are three shows that I like back to back to back.  I never ever ever want to give that up.  We gave up TV for several years, and then we just slid into watching movies all the time.  No different.  But if Jesus is real and this world is not my home, is that what I should be doing every night?

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I wrote all that a few weeks ago but didn’t hit “publish.”  Been pondering, doing some heavy mulling.  I actually wrote all of that before I read Jen Hatmaker’s new book, “7,” and now having just finished it, it’s like she was in my head, only wittier and smarter.

Per my last post, I’ve been praying for God to give wisdom and discernment to Alex.  He HAS!  Dude, prayer WORKS!  I mean, Alex has been on a roll, a new insight every few days, experiencing spiritual awakening, and I am enjoying the fruit of his leadership.  And I think we’re going to let Project HulaHoop clatter to the floor and head in a totally different direction.  And we’re excited and experiencing same-page-y-ness, which is always lovely in a marriage.

A few weeks ago he told me that he felt led to give up video games for three months (Thank You, GOD!!!).  Tonight he raved about how he’s getting more sleep and enjoying more time with me.  And then he said he felt like we should cancel TV.  Whoa.  Giving up gaming is great for you, babe, but now you’re digging around in MY addiction!  And I immediately felt peace.  I’ve been teetering on that ledge for awhile, too excited about blobbing out on the couch to take the leap.  Tonight, my husband pushed me over, and as I’m careening over the canyon, I feel relieved.  Relieved that my husband, my partner, wants bigger things for our family than media addiction.  Relieved that I don’t have to do it alone.  Relieved that my kids don’t have to get sucked into watching one more show one more one more more more.  Because their father has the guts to unplug his family.

It’s just a little media.  There’s still Hulu and my love/hate relationship with my laptop.  It’s not like we’re selling everything and moving to Uganda.  In some ways, that would be easier, more straightforward, than the life that we feel called to here, the daily choice to walk towards Jesus and self-denial and serving instead of toward comfort and luxury and the thrall of the shiny life here in the ‘burbs.

So, unplugging a bit, laying down Project HulaHoop, and taking up a new project.  But that’s for another post.

I will say this, I am so very thankful that God has not allowed us to feel comfortable.  Since bringing Evie home, I have not felt done.  I have not settled into our new life and breathed a sigh of relief.  I felt relief at having her with us.  But I was quickly seized with the conviction that there are still several holes in our family!  God is not done.  We are not a complete unit.  We are missing people.  And it’s not okay to sit back and get comfy.  Yes, we experience great joy as a foursome.  And I won’t miss the joy of the family of now.  I won’t wish it away.  I will savor moments (not every single one, cuz let’s face it, no one enjoys a 2-year-old melting down in Target!).  But I actually miss the joy in the pain.  I miss the feeling of desperately clinging to Jesus as the God of ALL hope.  I miss feeling so out on a limb with Him that I had to hold on so tight so tight.  I miss the closeness of total dependence.  Through my tears begging for my daughter, it was joyful.  And now through my laughter with my crazy kids together, it is joyful.  So no matter what’s ahead, there will be joy.  I will have joy simply from walking with my Savior.

The Christian walk is a great adventure.  I’m so freakin’ excited for the next chapter.  But that’s another post.