When even your children seem to hate you and you just feel hopeless.

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It was the 16th time that finally broke the window.

She picked up the shoe for the 16th time, mad at the world. She threw and it broke.

You would think the walls would have come down after that.

You thought wrong.

But what do you do when your child hates you? When she looks at you with hate because you’re not the mother of her birth? What do you do when you know she loves your husband more, her dad more.

Simply because: it’s not men she has issues with- it’s mothers.

Because it’s the mother who left. It’s the mother who made the bad decisions. It’s the mother who never stood up for her children. The fathers came and went- it was he mother that always let her down.

So, it doesn’t matter what you do. It doesn’t matter how you love. You always remind her of

a mother.

And really, you just want to be a momma. You just want to hug ,and kiss, and cuddle away bad memories and hard times. You want to say time and time again- “You’re safe here now.”

But time and time again you’re left holding back screams. You’re left wanting to shout, “I AM THE ONE WHO IS HERE! I AM THE ONE WHO LOVES! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HURT ME?”


We all have windows don’t we?

Days that have been shattered into a million pieces by someones unkind, thoughtless words. The diet that failed once again. The man who didn’t call. The wife who never returned. The mother that let us down. The brother who broke the promise. The family member who broke all of the rules and harmed someone close to you. The mother in law who never forgives. The child who doesn’t seem to ever care- and the battle that.never.ends.

There are windows all around us.

We look into those windows and the reflection peering back to us changes every day.

Some days it says, “You are beautiful” Some days it says, “You are a piece of trash” Some days it says, “You are loved.” Other days it says, “Who could ever love you?”

And then, one day it happens. You just can’t take it any more.

You pick up the shoe and throw it through the glass- hoping for the enemies lies to stop.

And they still come.

Her lies are still there. The broken glass didn’t fix anything. The truth of her past is still as real today as it was yesterday. All the terrible things she yelled at me that day, she’s still yelling.

No. Broken glass doesn’t fix anything. And the same is true of us isn’t it? Broken friendships. Don’t fix anything. Broken promises. Don’t fix anything. Broken marriages. Don’t fix anything.

No. The only brokenness that fixes anything – is brokenness at the foot of the cross.

Dear one.

There are times when there are just no answers. There are no fixes. There are no explanations to why something happened. You are sad, Jesus is sad, and everyone involved is broken into a million pieces.

And the truth is, you.just.don’t.want.to.get.out.of.bed.

I only want to speak these words into your heart today- because He is speaking them into my very own heart.

He loves you. He is close. He is watching. He is proud. He is good. He is just. He is the only thing that will never break. He is the only glass that never shatters. He is able to take your brokenness and make it new. He is watching you.

He loves you and never stops seeing the full, new, beautiful you.

So when you look into that window and you see the ugly reflection peering back at you- remember. We all have a beauty inside of us that Jesus is working on. A beauty that calls out to the savior to make it new each day.

I am there. You are there. Your Christian neighbor is there. Your pastor is there. Your best friend who does everything right is there. The mother that always hurts you is there. The hurting daughter in my home. She’s there.

We are all there. Imperfect, just trying to get a glimpse of Jesus each day. Just a small touch of his robe. We’re all just trying to be made new- time.and.time.again. Breaking the glass won’t fix it. Yelling words we don’t mean won’t fix it. Giving up won’t fix it.

Giving in to Jesus is all that will make anything new.

“Just then a woman who had suffered for twelve years with constant bleeding came up behind him. She touched the fringe of his robe,  for she thought, “If I can just touch his robe, I will be healed.”

Jesus turned around, and when he saw her he said, “Daughter, be encouraged! Your faith has made you well.” And the woman was healed at that moment.” Matthew 9:20-22

Oh, friends. To long for just the touch of his robe. The newness that comes from the simple touch of Jesus.

Jesus is saying to each of us every day. “My child, be encouraged! Your faith has made you well! Not your actions, not your failures, not your successes. Not your method of parenting, or your tithe amount. Not your involvement in church. Nothing but your faith in me.”

Beautiful one: May you know your true beauty today. May you know he is fighting for your heart, for your soul, for the renewing of your mind.

When the 16th time comes. May you fall to your knees and surrender to only the touch of His robe. My you never give up. May you never look down. May you feel loved and cherished by the ONLY one who loves fully.

Jesus.

Broken, earthly, and nothing compared to Jesus~

Kati


Some of you have asked how to receive posts in your email: it’s simple. On the lower right hand side of the screen there should be a “follow” button. Click and enter your email. It’s totally safe.

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Um, yeah… is there an ad below here? A creepy ad  (yes, directly below here, some strange video, perhaps?) I didn’t put it there

= / And I didn’t choose what it will advertise. Sorry about that.

The day my nine year old was picked up by the police: When people think you have it all together

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“I don’t want to live here anymore.”

“I.want.a.NEW.family.”

Stomping her feet- right there in the middle of her bedroom, surrounded by all who love her; she had made up her mind- it was time to leave.

And what do you do when something like that happens?

Because when you’ve grown up being tossed around from foster home to foster home- from institution to institution when things get hard; of course you want to leave.

So, she left. And I followed- all secret agent like. Parking behind trees and in peoples driveways. It’s true. I simply hid out as I watched my little girl skip around town- thinking all was right with the world; thinking she had won.


Some days, I want to skip around town- thinking all is right with the world, thinking I have won. But the truth is: I’m a broken mess.


I followed her for an hour before the city police finally came and picked her up and drove her home. All the while I thought, “And people think we have it all together.”

This is the truth, friends.

None of us have it all together.

I have sat with mommas who have tried to take their lives; mommas who I thought had it all together. I have sat with women whose marriage I envied; only to find they were nearing divorce. I have wished upon stars for your picture perfect child to influence my not-so picture perfect child; only to find your child is no-so picture perfect after all. I have hoped and dreamed for the homes of many- only to see those homes be taken by the bank or cause a divorce over finances.

My nine year old just wanted a new family. And when the police picked her up? Well, she didn’t care one bit. She told him she ran away because she didn’t want to do her math problems and she wanted a new family. Well, in orphan world- police take you from families to make you safe. She thought he would just snatch her up and move her to a math-less world. So, when he said, “Next time, I’m taking you to juvie.” She wasn’t too impressed.

So, how do we: moms, dads, sons, daughters, co-workers, bloggers, foodies, grandmothers, men and women– how do we show the love and grace of Jesus in a true and genuine way? Because as Ann Voskamp sweetly reminds us:

“Aren’t we all really like Peter– cowards and liars and deniers and absolute messes? I am.”

I am.


And when one runs away or one hits another child, or one does something unthinkable, I simply am reminded. We all need Jesus. A suit, tie, and seminary degree, all packaged with a big smile aren’t going to change the fact that I am a broken mess and so desperately in need of a savior.

And hopefully? By leaving all of that religious, “I’ve got it all together” facade aside, this desperation can speak loud into the lives of my children. That life is hard, and days can be crazy. But Jesus is loving, and grace filled- no matter what.

Then, when we break at the feet of Jesus,  we’re just a bit like my nine year old- who, hours later– even hours after being toted home in a patrol car- finally broken, collapsed in my arms and said,

“I’m sorry mom and I love you.”

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“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God.” 1 John 3:1a

Lavished by the King- and so desperately in need of Him–

Right along side of you, friend.
Kati

Similar Post: Do things that make the white guy in Walmart say, Da** girl; how many baby daddies have you had?


Some of you have asked how to receive posts in your email: it’s simple. On the lower right hand side of the screen there should be a “follow” button. Click and enter your email. It’s totally safe.

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Um, yeah… is there an ad below here? A creepy ad  (yes, directly below here, some strange video, perhaps?) I didn’t put it there

= / And I didn’t choose what it will advertise. Sorry about that.

Saturday STOP Challenge: STOP and consider adoption- Because children matter.

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James 1:27

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”

“I was an orphan.

I thought nobody cared.

Nobody told me they loved me.

I wondered if anyone would ever call me, son. daughter. beloved.

And then, someone loved.

And now, I’m home.”

More on adoption:
Jesus Can Love Through A Crazy Person Like Me? An Adoption Story. 

Do Things That Make The White Guy at Walmart Say, “Da** Girl, how many baby daddies have you had?” An Adoption Story.

Who we adopted our two kiddos from: FORthe1 <<<—— click the link to be re-directed.

Truly Adopted By The King of Kings,

Kati

Jesus can love through a crazy person like me? An adoption story.

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writingwithintrees:

My heart is troubled for three kiddos I know of, needing a forever home tonight…

As our six kiddos are snug as a bug under covers- millions of children wonder if they will ever be wanted. And trust me, they do wonder.

Ever thought you were too crazy to adopt? Yeah, us too. Share the need for adoptive homes.

Originally posted on writingwithintrees:

“The hunger for love 
is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.”

~ Mother Teresa ~

Early one morning, talking with my husband, I ask the question, “Well, we’re almost finished. What will we do next?”

Because what do you do when you know there are countless children just waiting for love. 

This time, a month ago, our journey to forever ended and the real forever began as we finalized our adoption of two kiddos. Making our family a fun family of eight!   It seems as though, this is just the way it’s always been. Them and us- us and them.

It’s funny how God can talk to you through so many things- even something as little as adoption paperwork. There are hundreds upon hundreds (ok, it seems that way– :) ) pieces of paper associated with adoption but I have two I treasure most.

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A trick to help siblings get along this summer.

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“Words have the power to both destroy and heal. When words are both true and kind, they can change our world.”

The Buddha


 

I have six kids.

Two are boys.

And they are all boy.

They fight.

Sometimes for fun, sometimes not so much.

One more thing? They’re dirty.

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Well, most of the time.

This, however. THIS is for certain.

When those boys of mine decide it’s “fun” to poke fun, fight, or be just.down.right.mean; there’s this thing we do.

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Words.

I sit my little boys down and have them write 10 things they love about each other.

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Then, they read the list to each other.

“I like his smile. I like the way he laughs. I like how he plays basketball. I like how he dresses…”

“I like his skin color. I like his missing tooth.”

The silly list goes on and on.

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And it does– what sweet words always seem to do.

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Words make everything better.

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From one momma of boys to another,

Kati

 

 

Do things that make the white guy at WalMart say, “Da** girl, how many baby daddies have you had? An adoption story.

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Everyday. That’s how often someone asks me about adoption.

Most people want to know- “Doesn’t it wreck your life?

I don’t think people ask everyone who has adopted this same question. I don’t think the person who adopts the cutie pie little baby is asked this question. I’m sure their most asked question is different.

I think it’s the people who adopt the older “un-adoptables” who are asked my question. Sort of like – everyone loves puppies, but the older pit-bulls- nobody wants.

The problem is:

They all wreck your life.

Big, little; nice or mean. HIV positive, healthy. Two months old, ten years old. Domestic, International. All of them. They all wreck you.

This is how I want to answer everyone who asks.

It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Each day, everyday. It.is.hard.

It’s hard because when I go to the school and the kids in her class interview me, like they do all of the other MVP student’s moms,  they want to know: “What was her first word?” And of course, I can’t say, “Well, I only met her nine months ago… let me get back to ya on that”  ; )

It’s hard because when we celebrate birthdays in our home- we look at baby pictures. And for them, there simply are none. And the truth is: there never will be.

It’s hard because as much as you try to be mom and you really are- you simply are not the only mom they’ve ever known and you never will be because they still remember that mom.

It’s hard because as much as you tell them you love them- at first, they wonder if you’re for real.

It’s hard because, by this age, they really should know how to take baths, eat food, pour water or simply apply chapstick and lotion but they just don’t.

It’s hard because every now and then, they tell you stories of dark nights, no mattresses or food. They remember bugs crawling on them, and dogs hurting them. They have stories of dads yelling and people leaving. Over and over again.

It’s hard because as much as you love them- as much as they’re yours forever and you’d take a whole dozen of them. You still get really mad because someone did this to them.

And then I think:

Oh yeah, you bet we’ve been wrecked.

We’ve been wrecked by that sweet Jesus who makes all things new. Wrecked by this love He has shown us in real life by the true heart of adoption. Wrecked by this reality. Really? Is this the way it is? Jesus loves me? Me? Messy, abandoned me? Me? Always messing up, never getting it right, me?  He.adopted.me?

And now, out of the love of two broken people– two people He adopted into His family, that man of mine and little ‘ol me, we get to show the love of a savior to two kiddos? Two kiddos who, as you can tell, are totally “Gibson”…

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Let me give it to ya straight.

Adoption isn’t for everyone. I get that. I’m not saying it is. Fruit Loops aren’t for everyone either. But just so you know, I think they’re delish. =)

Here is something else I do know. God is moving in the hearts of His people to care for orphans. It simply must be the reason I am asked every single day about adoption. It must be the reason my email is flooded with questions from people I don’t even know asking me how to help with their hurting adopted kids. It must be the reason I am asked, almost daily, “How do I adopt.”

If you are someone who is asking that question allow me to share with you this:

Adoption is hard.

The paperwork is endless, the people involved in the process aren’t always the best. It will require a lot of work. Your house may need some changes- your perspective might need some fine tuning. Some kids are really messed up, they need your love pretty bad. Some people are rude to you- it’s just the truth. Like the man at Wal-Mart who took it upon himself to ask me “Damn girl, how many baby daddies have you had?” as my little crew of white and brown children trailed behind me– totaling six all together ; )

Yeah, he must be a real winner.

Who cares about all of that stuff.

Here is what really matters:

Today I watched my boys play basketball in the freezing cold wearing matching NBA sweatbands. And if the nerdy matching sweatbands weren’t enough to make this momma tear up- I heard Triston (who is adopted) say, “You’re the best brother Judah.”

Here is what really matters:

Two days ago we celebrated Ashley’s ninth birthday- it was her first birthday with us. The truth is, she doesn’t know what this momma was really celebrating. I was celebrating her surviving those first eight years and rejoicing in knowing she gets to live the rest of them- no longer surviving.

Those are the kinds of things that really matter.

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The hard paperwork and countless expenses associated with adoption will fade away.  In fact, some people don’t even have much expense or paperwork. The truth is- the scary unknowns don’t stay unknown for long. And who knows? Your house might be more ready than you think. Someone might answer you “yes” to adopting, rather than “no”. You just never know until you go for it.

When I watch this video- [the video just below]  I know it’s about a sweet baby and the fight for clean water. But I want you to know this:

When you adopt- THIS is the type of world, wonder, and opportunity you offer a child. A chance to see it all for the first time. A chance for them to fulfill their “If I had a mommy and daddy list” and believe me.

They have that list.

“Once I knew only darkness and stillness… my life was without past or future… but a little word from the fingers of another fell into my hand that clutched at emptiness, and my heart leaped to the rapture of living.”

-Helen Keller

May we be the hands that clutch at emptiness, friends.

All my love made possible thru Him,

Kati

Related Posts:
Jesus can love thru a crazy person like me?: an adoption story.
His grace covers even the drug addict, time and time again.

 

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Jesus can love through a crazy person like me? An adoption story.

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“The hunger for love 
is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.”

~ Mother Teresa ~

Early one morning, talking with my husband, I ask the question, “Well, we’re almost finished. What will we do next?”

Because what do you do when you know there are countless children just waiting for love. 

This time, a month ago, our journey to forever ended and the real forever began as we finalized our adoption of two kiddos. Making our family a fun family of eight!   It seems as though, this is just the way it’s always been. Them and us- us and them.

It’s funny how God can talk to you through so many things- even something as little as adoption paperwork. There are hundreds upon hundreds (ok, it seems that way– :) ) pieces of paper associated with adoption but I have two I treasure most.

One, the document showing change of name. Now they carry a bit of us– it feels like the perfect adoption story. So many times God gives a new name to a new person- such as Saul. A sign of new life, new purpose; a new calling. A piece of Him. They have a piece of us now- living new names, Ashley and Triston.

Then the words that tip toe into my heart right from the closure of a letter from our attorney. “as an adoptive parent and one of fifteen children, thirteen whom where adopted, I commend you on your decision… “

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Thirteen? Our attorney has thirteen adopted siblings?

could.we.really.ever.adopt.thirteen?

i gulp big.

If someone asked the question, ‘what have you learned most during this process’ my answer would simply be:

I have never felt of God as my father. Strange, considering I grew up without a father; you would think that was the void God had filled. But for me, God has always been a friend. Someone I could talk to, argue with, get mad at, laugh with, cry with, and learn from.

A few weeks back I felt like I needed to start asking God to help me see myself the way HE sees me. As a daughter. Seeing myself as a treasured daughter, loved beyond compare, no matter what– has left me overwhelmed. My mind simply unable to comprehend how Jesus loves so deeply.

What if, He knew how badly I needed Him- His love, His grace, His fathering touch, His friendship; and yet He just turned away. What if He had said, “I don’t have a big enough house, or enough bedrooms. I don’t have any more time in my day, or money in the bank. I don’t have enough seats in my car or showers in my house. In fact, I have so many crazy kids already, I just don’t think I have the patience for one more.”

If I knew He was aware of my need for love and yet chose to do nothing- leaving me alone, without any true hope of forever love… orphaned. I wonder how empty I would feel.

I am full because Jesus fills me. =) And even now, just thinking of His outpouring grace for someone like me, fills my heart with gladness and my eyes with tears.

Most days, I feel like I’m getting it all wrong and these two kids would be better off away from crazy me. In fact, some days I feel like they should just take the other four with them because I can’t be doing any of them any good. But that is when my knees give out and my heart finds surrender because Jesus just has to love through crazy, broken, messy me.

Isn’t it true? It seems the more I try to understand how he could ever use a wretch like me- the more he keeps on showing me- that’s exactly what he’s doing. Working through me because I simply can do nothing but provide a heart of surrender and feet to follow. 

Oh, how hard that can be, huh?

I know a day will come when some of you will have your Ashely or Triston and I can’t WaiT to ReJoiCe with you! They will finally be full because Jesus will have loved through you. 

Oh, I can’t imagine our Saviors joy and the singing of angels upon a decision to care for the one of our Shepherds little lost, broken, and hurting sheep- just waiting for forever.

one. two. or maybe even- thirteen.

Imagephoto courtesy of callynth photography

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Oh happy day.