Foster Caring

“Whoever welcomes one of these children, welcomes Me." ~ Mark 9:37

When the most stable thing in your life has plastic eyes, there's a real problem.

Some kids have it worse, but her home was violent and chaotic.  Mom would serve the meal and dad would ruthlessly criticize.  Kelsie ate in mock oblivion; anything to keep her eyes off their hating faces.  Nothing could drown out the shouting.  Even at six, Kelsie knew "Armageddon" was coming to their house soon.

The night they were “removed,” she and her younger brother Cody were told they wouldn’t be going back home.  Terrified at the thought of Foster Care, Kelsie began mentally preparing herself for how best to protect them from an uncertain future.

That first day in their Foster Home was awkward.  The people tried to make them feel comfortable but she had no idea how they did things.  She was afraid but tried not to be “needy.”

The new family seemed nice enough.  They smiled a lot.  In her world, there’d been no smiles, no gentle eyes, no cheerful looks.

Their other kids seemed fine with two new ‘siblings.’  The family ate and prayed together nightly at a dinner table.  She quickly learned some formal manners and the ‘how-and-why’ of teeth brushing.

At her bioparents’ place they didn’t own many clothes, so they kept wearing the same things every day.  In this home, there were lots of clean shirts and pants and underwear.

These parents showed a genuine interested in what was happening in her world.  They asked to see her homework and if she did well on a test or an assignment, they displayed it proudly on the refrigerator.  No one had really listened to her before.

Tonight they went for Slushies after soccer practice.  When Dad hit a pothole, Cody spilled his cherry drink all over himself . . . and the back seat.  Dad stopped the car and immediately opened the door on Cody’s side.

Kelsie gasped as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air.  From deep within the respite of her subconscious, she remembered the ceramic vase she’d accidently knocked from the table . . . the screaming that ensued . . . and the beating her bio dad inflicted.  This could end badly she thought.

Foster Dad looked at Timmy, wiped the mess from his shirt and laughed.  Then he did something strange.  Taking what was left from his own cup, he poured its contents on the seat too.

“Now it’s rainbow flavored,” he said with an impish grin.  “Accidents happen.  We don’t cry over spilt Slushies.”

Kelsie relaxed for the first time in months – she was finally home.

Here’s three quick tips for exceptional parenting: 1) tender (appropriate) touch; 2) unhurried time; and 3) encouraging talk.

Father in Heaven, help make me a better parent.  Help me to understand my children, to listen patiently to what they have to say, and to nurture in them the gifts that You’ve placed.  Let goodness and mercy follow them throughout their lives.  Amen

Sermon Snoozer

“Some people will listen but not understand; look but not really see." ~ Matthew 13:14

Time flowed like molasses at the North Pole.  Adam snuck a casual peak at his cell for the umpteenth time.  A minute had passed since he last checked an hour ago, or so it seemed.  He was witnessing an excrutiatingly slow death in the pulpit.

After a lively worship service, the preacher read Isaiah 6:1-8.  He spent about five minutes setting the scene and explaining background about King Uzziah.  Then he made three points.

First, Isaiah saw God in the temple.  Second, Isaiah heard God in the temple.  And third, (can you guess it?) Isaiah obeyed God in the temple.

Judging by the restlessness and yawns all around him, Adam was not alone in being able to predict each step before the preacher got to it.  They reached the end long before the preacher did.

The problem wasn’t that the Minister had been short on preparation, or that he was insincere.  It was that he was utterly, bone-crushingly predictable.

Adam entered Fellowship Hall literally ‘thanking God’ that this agonizingly, painful ordeal finally ended.  He found his usual group of friends and sat down for the usual post worship service jibber-jabber.  He wasted little time voicing his annoyance.

“I’ve come here for nearly a dozen years,” he began.  “And in that time I’ve heard something like 600 sermons, but for the life of me, I can’t remember a more boring one.  I think I’m wasting my time and the pastors are wasting theirs by giving sermons at all.”

Adam was on a roll; he wasn’t about to stop until others were complaining right along with him.  Charlie, a kindly older gentleman, spoke first.

“I’ve been married for 30 years now.  In that time my wife has cooked some 32,000 meals.  There were some I didn’t really like.  But I know this … they all nourished me and gave me the strength I needed to do my work.  If she hadn’t fed me those meals, I’d be dead today.”

“Likewise,” the wise elder continued.  “If I’d not come to church for nourishment, I’d be spiritually dead today!’

We live in a culture that finds everything boring eventually.  Attention spans are shorter.  We skim, multi-task, and click.  We like, we snap, we tweet, and move on to something else.

But the Gospel is timeless, not entertaining.  It is true, not trendy.  It has depth, not just overnight ratings.  It is God’s word to all of us, told in the story of Jesus.

While sermons will always be boring to someone, Jesus warns us to be careful how we listen.  Perhaps part of the problem is our readiness to hear the Word, and forgetting that it proclaims a divine message.

Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer, may the words from Your mouth and the meditations of Your hear, touch my heart and inspire my spirit.  Through faith, help me see the invisible, hear the inaudible. And believe the incredible!  Amen

Butterflies Are Free

“Happy are those who remain faithful under fire; their reward will be eternal life." ~ James 1:12

Six year old Katy was full of life, energy, and curiosity.  So it wasn’t unusual at all that she found a caterpillar and wanted to keep it.  “Pleeeaze Mommmy, Pleeeaze?” she begged.

Mom saw a great opportunity to teach her young daughter about the butterfly’s lifecycle.  So she gently placed the worm-like insect into a large jar.  Katy gathered fresh plants to eat and a stick for climbing.  To Katy’s enjoyment, it (known now ‘Callie’) grew rapidly.  So fast, that it constantly shed its skin, a process Mom called “molting.”

One day Callie climbed up the stick and started acting weird.  Fearing the worst, Katy immediately summoned her mother.  “Do you think we should take Callie to emergency care?” she asked.

“No honey,” Mom chuckled.  “Looks like Callie’s about ready to form a cocoon.  That’s the stage when she rests and starts changing into a butterfly.”

Katy watched every day, waiting eagerly for the butterfly to emerge.  One day a small hole appeared in the cocoon and the butterfly started struggling to break out.  Callie looked desperate; like she wasn’t making any progress!

So Katy decided to help.  She took a small scissors and made the hole larger.  A butterfly quickly emerged, its wings damp and folded against her body.

She continued to watch it, expecting that any minute Callie’s wings would expand and she’d take flight.  Didn’t happen!  In fact Callie would never fly, spending the rest of her shortened life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings.

A prime teaching moment.

Before a butterfly can emerge from its chrysalis, it must struggle.  Each time it lunges to escape, acids are being removed from its wings.  When Katy innocently broke the chrysalis open, the butterfly began dying from those acids.

In essence, struggle is necessary for a butterfly’s survival. Then in the quiet, when its battle has ended, the butterfly can come out and share its beauty with the world.

We humans aren’t that different.  Sometimes we need to struggle, to rid ourselves of the acids that make up anger, fear and sadness.

It’s even harder watching someone we love struggle.  It could be a spouse competing in the workplace, a child wrestling with schoolwork, a friend crippled by a painful divorce, or a family member battling an incurable disease.

While it is instinctive to want to help (and we often do by giving unsolicited advice), sometimes we must learn to wait; let the process unfold on its own.  If you, or someone you know, is battling to shed their cocoon, keep in mind, true love may require that you allow them to struggle for a season, to gain strength to become that beautiful butterfly.

Lord of creatures big and small, just as a caterpillar struggles to free itself from the cocoon to become a butterfly, teach us that prayer through struggle frees the soul, mind and spirit to Your divine presence and love.  Amen

Spider Persuasion

“God’s plans are better than your plans." ~ Isaiah 55:8

It was Sophie’s first day of high school; the day she’d pined over all summer.  Sleep Zombies had robbed her of a good night’s sleep: she’d stayed up half the night trying to assemble the perfect outfit.  This morning’s headache suggested this wasn’t going to be one of her best days.

She arrived early for her first class.  As others filed in, nobody sat next to her.  The only vacant chair in the room sat empty at Sophie’s side.

Feeling rejected she wondered: Do I look funny?  Scary?  Weird?  Maybe something’s hanging from my nose or I drool and don’t realize it because I lack self-awareness.  Maybe it’s my breath?  What else could keep people sitting next to me she pondered?  The anguish she felt consumed her the rest of the day.

Mom offered sound advice as usual.  “Let others sit down first.  Then make your choice to sit by someone you’d like to get to know better.  Find someone who might be having a bad day, and BE the one to make a friend.”

She always made it sound so easy.

Sophie promised that things would be different this time.  With a prayer in her heart and mounting confidence, she pictured herself with an abundance of friends, and reminded herself that choosing to be positive and self-assured would attract others to like her.

What happened next surprised them both.

Contrary to Mom’s advice, Sophie showed up earlier than most; and out of habit decided to sit in her regular chair on the edge of the room.  As a few of the other students filed in, the pattern threatened to repeat itself.

Just then, she noticed a scary spider crawling up the chair in front of her.  It was black, a little hairy, and the size of a quarter.  Creeped out, she took her folder and tried to push it off.

Instead of removing it from her space, it fell onto Sophie’s lap.  Terrified, she jumped up, shook her pants, and bolted to another spot – right next to a girl she’d like to know better.  Before long, a second girl took the empty chair at her other side.

Admittedly she thought the answer to her prayer would show up in the form of an idea, or an added measure of courage to do or say something witty or inviting.

But this blessing showed up as a spider.

This is the essence of how God sometimes deals with us.  When we ask for things to be better, He creates conditions in our life that move us out of our comfort zone and prepare us to receive the very thing we’re praying for.  Odd how that works!  It’s a God thing.

Dear God, I trust You with all my heart.  Wherever You want me to go, I will go.  Even if it’s not where I’d plan to go.  If I lose my hope, please remind me that Your plans are better than my dreams.  Amen

Blinkers

“You are like light for the whole world." ~ Matthew 5:14

A photo essay sprawled the opposite wall, each snapshot depicting lake scenery: stunning sunscapes, brilliant waterfowl and floral bouquets, idyllic cloud formations.  A small flat screen TV hung in one corner showing mind-numbing commercials.  She was too anxious to read any of the dozen or so paperback books she’d brought on vacation.  Tapping her foot impatiently, her eyes never left the window.

Suddenly there was a quick flicker and crackle of light, too fast for the naked eye.  Dana stole past her Mom who was asleep in front of the television and on bare tiptoes she left the cabin, her nightgown flapping in the breeze.  This is what she’d waited for.

As her eyes adjusted to utter blackness the soft warm glow of a single firefly sliced through the darkness with its sugary light.  It softly buzzed through the blackened air illuminating the sky.  Then came a second, and a third.  Soon hundreds danced as if charmed by the flute of a great magician.

Dana danced among them as if she were inside an ornate Christmas tree.  Twirling faster and faster, she savored the last beauty she'd see until dawn.

The never failed to appear at this time during the summer.  Despite the desperation of this moonless night, she appreciated the darkness.  Without it, who could enjoy the fireflies’ glow?

Its calming presence lets her soul run free.  Her worries silently burned into smoke as the specks of light began to dim; their mating dance of light and love complete for another night.

They never failed to amaze her; always making her world a little brighter.  As Dana made her way back toward the cabin, she thanked God for creating such delightful creatures; little “blinkers” that shined their own light to make the gloomy meadows look like the starry skies above.

She recalled something Robert Fulghum once wrote.  “I’m not the source of light but I can reflect light into the darkest places of this world; into the wickedest places in the hearts of men.”

Lightning bugs inspire Dana to want to share her own light, even if it isn’t that bright and tends to blink now and then.  She doesn’t know how much light she’s absorbed over the years, but Dana won’t keep it hidden under a basket.  She will shine it; she’ll share it.  She’ll use it to bring as much goodness, love, joy, and wisdom into this world as she possibly can.

May you always shine your light as brightly as you can.  May you always share it with others as well.  Remember too that God doesn’t ask you to illuminate the entire planet.  He just wants us to make our little corner of it a bit brighter.

Jesus said, “You are the light of the world.”  In joy, in sorrow, in our certainty, in our searching, in this moment right now … light.  So teach us what that might mean for each of us, O God; for who we are; and how we live: and how we pray.  Amen