Time Enough

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Every day I hear it.  My clock ticking. 

Literally.

Tick.  Tick.  Tick.

It's the repetitive sound coming from the clock hanging in our bonus room/school room.  I wanted a simple, inexpensive, analog clock with real numbers, one in which my girls could use to tell time.

What I didn't account for was how obnoxiously loud this particular clock would sound as it records each second passing by.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

This clock is good.  It helps me know how much time I have to do something.  It helps me see how much time I have left before I need to be somewhere.

But with every passing tick, I'm reminded of time gone.  No longer the future.  No longer the present.  Now the past.

"Time may be measured in minutes,

but life is measured in moments." ~ Mark Batterson

Opportunities.  Moments.  Time.  These three words have become cemented in my mind the past few weeks.

There are countless God-given opportunities in front of me every day.  There are opportunities to help.  There are opportunities to give.  There are opportunities to bless. 

There are moments to remember.  There are moments to relinquish.  There are moments that define the future.  There are moments that conjure up the past.  There are moments to celebrate.  There are moments to mourn. 

And time.  The older I get, the less I seem to have of it.  Or so it seems.  Each day pushes forward at warp speed and I cannot seem to trap it or hold on to it, or multiply it to save my life.

But one thing we all have in common is the same 24 hours, in the same day, of the same week.  We all have access to the same amount of time.  And most of the time, we all wish we had w-a-a-ay more of it.  I would be a millionaire if I had a dime every time I thought, "Man...if I just had ten more minutes..."

“All we have to decide is

what to do with the time that is given us.” ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Since time continues to tick on, I have to choose what to do with my time.  How will I use what has so graciously been given to me? 

That's the question I'm facing right now.  What will I do with my time?  How will I choose to spend each minute that ticks by?  Not craving more of it, but making the most of it.

“Be careful, then, how you live--not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity because the days are evil.” 

Ephesians 5:15-16

Ten years ago when I taught in the public school system, I was evaluated once a year by my principal.  One of the areas in the state-mandated observation was referred to as, "time on task."  How did I, the teacher, spend the 7-8 hours engaging my students each day?  Did I value their time, stay on task, maximize the time to its greatest potential? 

And I feel like that's where I still am.  Wondering if I'm taking full advantage of the time given to me.  Weighing the moments or wasting them.

"My times are in your hands..." Psalm 31:15

Not enslaved to the ticking of the clock, I want to live my one life well, being present and enjoying His presence.  Often sitting instead of stirring.  Being instead of becoming.

I never liked the phrase, "I don't have time."  Hearing myself (or someone else) say it rubs me the wrong way.  I always think, "Sure you do.  You are just doing other things with your time."  Sometimes that's okay.  Sometimes it's not.

Time will continue to tick away.  No doubt. 

What are the everyday opportunities to experience? What are the extraordinary moments ahead?

At the end of the day, my heart agrees with author, Ann Voskamp, when she said, "I just want enough time...I just want time to do my one life well."

 

“I don’t really want more time; I just want enough time. Time to breathe deep & time to see real & time to laugh long, time to give You glory & rest deep & sing joy…

I just want time to do my one life well."

One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp

And you?  Do you hear the sound of your clock ticking as well?  Do you find yourself yearning for more time?  Or time enough?  Time enough to live your one life well? 

Lord, help us all to seize opportunities, magnify moments, and treasure the time.  For You and Your glory.  Amen.

Questions, Some Answers, & No Answers

 

"How's the adoption going?" 

"What's the latest?"

"Any idea on how much longer?"

"Do you know who she is yet?"

In light of the curious and justified questions asked of us over the past few weeks, an update post is probably l-o-n-g overdue. 

(By the way, we love the opportunity to talk about our adoption journey.  It thrills us that you care enough to ask!  So, THANK you!)

With our Home Study's completion in mid-September, our agency was ready to register us with CARA (Central Adoption Resource Authority), the governing authority responsible for all adoptions in India. 

On October 1st, our family was entered into the online registry in India.  Here was my Facebook status early that morning:

"Our family REALLY needs prayer! PLEASE circle us we submit our request/info. to CARA, the governing agency dealing with all adoptions in India. According to our agency, we will be matched with an orphanage in approx. 2 weeks. Please PRAY for God's hand to move our paperwork to the exact orphanage He planned beforehand and where our daughter is currently being cared for. This is a BIG deal! Thank you for praying BIG prayers with us to a BIG God who alone can do BIG things.”

CARA matches each family with one orphanage and each orphanage matches each family with one child.  There are no books for us to peruse, no pages of children for us to decide upon.  Control is in the hands of CARA and the orphanage, not us. 

No worries though, because we know and we rest in Who ultimately has all the control!

Just this month, another huge responsibility was checked off our list of requirements to adopt.  The dossier ("doss-ee-ay") was officially completed and mailed off on November 1st. 

The dossier really put the hunter-gatherer in us to work.  Particularly Derek, who gets all the credit for spear-heading this colossal task and for maintaining the documents checklist.  He's a total rock star in my book. :)

The dossier is an extensive collection of papers containing very detailed information about us.  First it goes to our agency, then on to India.  The good news is that many of the same documents we had to gather for the Home Study were also needed for the dossier.  Each document had to be notarized, and also apostilled, which is a special governmental stamp verifying the notary stamps were authentic and legit.

The infamous apostille stamp

VERY thick stack of papers!

Anything and just about everything one could possibly want to know about us!

Bottom line: 
*We have done all that we are required to do at this time.  To date, it's been over a month since we were registered with CARA and still no word on an orphanage.  How exciting it will be to finally know what city she is in!

*We do not have any idea how much longer.  As we have learned, our agency can only estimate time frames.  And surprisingly, we are okay with that.  God's timing is absolutely perfect.  We will know what we need to know when we need to know it. 

*We do not know who our little Pearl is yet, but God does.  He is loves her. He cares for her.  He created her.  He has a plan for her.  He is preparing her to be with us.  And He is preparing us to be with her.

Thank you for asking questions; it reminds us how much you truly care!  Keep asking and we'll try to keep answering.  Well...as long as we have the answers, that is!

Sky High

Privileged to be a guest contributor at 5 Minutes for Faith again! 

 

Here's my post for the day:

“Step.  Slide.  Hang on tight.  Breathe. 

Okay.  Good.  Now, repeat. 
One more thing. 
Whatever you do… don’t look down.”

I whispered these words to myself as I stood on a wooden bridge, high in the air.  I was attached by a simple harness and pulley system, facing a fear I didn’t even know I possessed.

Going to Stone Mountain Park was my idea that hot summer day.  Standing in line for Sky Hike, the adventure ropes course, was my idea, too.  But fear was never part of the agenda. 

Following each platform pit-stop is a pair of apparatus.  Each climber must choose which path to take.  One is deemed easier.  One, a tad more challenging.  Every time, I went with the simpler path.  I was determined to take the easy way out.  Literally.

Until Billy saw me. 

 

Billy worked at the park.  His job was to help those with weak and shaky knees cross the ropes.  He came straight toward me, pointed and said, “Try this one.”

I replied, “No thanks.  I’m good.  I like this one.  It’s easier.”

His reply, “I know.  But this one is more fun and you’re almost at the end.  You should know how it feels to cross this rope before you’re done.  Don’t worry.  I’m right here.”

He extended his hand. 

I looked.  I thought.  I refused. 

I shook off his offer of help, but not his suggestion for a challenge.  I took a couple of steps onto the more difficult, one-inch tightrope, and then I froze.  I thought I could do it by myself.  I reasoned that after his pep talk, I was ready to do it by myself.  Wrong. 

Still watching me with extended hand, Billy waited.  As awkward as I felt relying on a perfect stranger for help, I reached for his hand.  Still moving slowly, I let him guide me across the remainder of the rope and onto the safety of the deck. 

I was finished with level one, but not with my lesson for the day.  Throughout the course, I saw that when faced with a decision, I yield to the easy path.  I shun the hard stuff because…well…it’s hard.  And sometimes, I refuse to accept help when I need it most. 

Since then, our little daredevil family has returned to brave Sky Hike two more times.  The last time, I courageously conquered all three levels—climbing, balancing and mastering the course, suspended 40 feet above the ground.  While exiting level three, an employee asked me, “So…how was it?” 

“It was scary, but I finished!  Do I get a sticker?  Or is there a bell I can ring?  A bugle to blow?  Something to announce to everyone that I did it?”

She laughed and said, “We should.  But I’ll shout it for you.  ‘She did it!  She finished!  Great job!’”  Triumphantly, I walked away knowing this was so much more than just a great activity at a great park.  It was also a great life-lesson.

I can choose to face the hard stuff in my life because my God is already there, just ahead of me.  He sees me panic-stricken and trembling in my soul.  He knows the moment my faith freezes and He comes. He sees me looking down at my circumstances instead of up at His face.  He waits for me to take His hand. 

And when I do, He will guide me through it to the other side, declaring, “You did it!  You finished.  Great job!”

With this news…encourage those who have weak knees.
 Say to those with fearful hearts,
“Be strong, & do not fear, for your God is coming…He is coming to save you.”

Is. 35:3-4 (NLT)

 

1000

1000.

That's appoximately how many feet deep Tallulah Falls Gorge is from top to bottom.  Considered one of the seven natural wonders of Georgia, the base reveals raging waters, spraying mists and glistening rocks.  And we had the privilege of seeing it all yesterday as we trekked our way up to the North Georgia Mountains.

Following a sharp descent of hundreds of stairs, we found ourselves at the bottom of the gorge.  In front of us was Hurricane Falls, the largest boasting waterfall in the park.  And all around us, beauty stamped with the design of its Maker.

 

Then it was time to turn around and go back up.  Time to ascend this hill to the top of the gorge.  There was more.  Much more for us to see and experience during our little field trip this fall.

 

1000. 

That's how many total steps one must be willing to climb in order to embrace the majesty of Tallulah Falls.

My girls and I were willing.  As a matter a fact, we braved each and every one of those intimidating steps.  With no whining.  No complaining.  No belly-aching.  Just a quick stop every now and then to rest on a bench as we made our way up.  And surprisingly, my five year old led us the whole way.

 

As we neared the top of the steepest and longest incline of stairs, my youngest asked,
"Which way do we go, Mommy?  To the left or the right?"

Map in hand, I stopped and showed my girls the direction in which we needed to go.  Our adventure continued as we navigated the rim trails by following the way set out before us. 

A couple of times we were tempted to veer off the path and head in other directions.  But if we had, we might not have made it to our destination--where we really needed to go.  We might have missed out on the awe-inspiring views surrounding us.

"Stop at the crossroads and look around; ask for the ancient paths.

Where is the good way?

Then walk in it and find a resting place for yourselves."

Jeremiah 6:16 (CEB)

 

 

From the highest of heights and the varying overlook points, we witnessed the wonder of five different cascading waterfalls.  They were powerful.  And constant.  And unpredictable.

1000.

 

That's the minimum number of things I am grateful for in my life right now and from this trip to Tallulah Falls. 

 

We came.  We saw.  We climbed.

 

And going from one extreme to the next in the midst of the gorge, prompted this response:



 

 

Worship. 

 

"Where can I go from your Spirit? 

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there."

Ps. 139:7-8 (NIV)

 

1000.



That's the number of extraordinary ways our Creator shows Himself, His love, His Word, and His presence in the midst of our ordinary days.  Let's keep our eyes open and be amazed.

 

Adoption's Heartbeat

Last weekend Derek and I went to the national "Together for Adoption" Conference in Atlanta. 

Between the two of us, we've attended our share of conferences in years past:  marriage, women's, men's, youth, youth leaders, education, technology, and homeschool, just to name a few.

Suffice to say, we're seasoned experts in the conference arena.  Been there.  Done that.  (And yes, we even have a few t-shirts to prove it.)

But this conference was so different.  And so timely.  And so beneficial for us.

Beforehand, we read the descriptions for each breakout session and mapped out which ones we most wanted to attend and most needed for our family.  We donned the name tags, wandered the exhibit hall and took in a deep breath--full of expectation and hope.

Each speaker, each song, each session reiterated our call to this journey of adoption.  It was confirmation upon confirmation upon confirmation.  And our thirsty souls drank it all in.

But the loudest, yet most gentle clamor, was the sound of our own adoption reverberating in our ears from start to finish. 

Have you heard it?  Have you heard how you dearly loved you are?  No?  Then read on, my friend. 

For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. 

So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves.

Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. 

Now we call him, “Abba, Father."

For his Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God’s children.  Rom. 8:14-16 (NLT)

Adoption is the heartbeat of the gospel.  It's the highest privilege--all because of our close relationship with the Father as His child, because of the sacrifice of His Son.  Jesus is the natural, eternal son, but we are adopted into His family through grace. 

Adoption is the message from a loving Father, saying, "Come home with me."

All of us, spiritually speaking, were born outside the family of God.  Apart from Him, we were isolated, rebellious, soiled and in great need.  But before the foundation of the world, God chose us.  He was busy, designing His family, preparing to become a Father.

Similarly, we are busy planning and preparing to become parents once again.  This time to an orphan, temporarily outside our family.   We have made the choice to fill out the applications and open our hearts and our home to our daughter.  We want her here, with us.

Once the judge declares the adoption is official, she becomes our honored daughter.  She has a place in our family.  She will gain a new identity, no longer being known as she once was in the past.  She will bear a new name; she will be a Fort.  And she will belong with us.

The same thing is true for us spiritually.  The moment we believe, the moment we say, "Yes" to Jesus, our family dynamics change entirely.  We have a place in the family of God, not by anything we did for ourselves, but because of what was done for us. 

We possess a new name and a new identity.  We belong.  And nothing we can do will ever change that.  Because family is forever.

Thank You, Abba Father, for the Spirit of adoption who confirms who we are: 

wanted, chosen, lavishly loved, adopted sons and daughters. 

Thank You for leaving Your home to enter into the spiritual orphanages

of this world with one goal in mind: bringing us home with You.

Adoption.  Most beautiful display of the gospel.  Ever.

A New Mercy Morning

Whew.  I am SO glad it's a new day.  Especially after yesterday.

Too much fussing.  Too much whining.  Too many harsh words. 

Not enough gentleness.  Not enough patience.  Not enough mercy.

And surprisingly, this has little to do with the girls.

During my (most-necessary) time of prayer this morning, I repeated these promises in Lamentations 3:22-23.

Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed,
Because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning...

Thank. You. God.

I told the Lord how much I appreciated and needed His new mercies today because I felt consumed.  With my behavior and with guilt. 

I knew the "law of kindness" rarely graced my tongue yesterday. 
I knew that I'd gone all "loco" when an entire container of vanilla yogurt was spilled on the carpet. 
I knew I'd been less than patient when we were still doing school at five o'clock in the afternoon.  Yes. Really.

In the midst of expressing my desperate need for His new mercies today, I couldn't help but think of my daughters' desperate need for my new mercies today, as well. 

Just as I am completely and totally dependent on second chance  moments, they are too.  From Him and from their mama.

Because of the Lord's great love, I can extend a second, third, or even a hundredth chance to myself and most especially, to my little ones.  And I will.  Starting now.  This morning.

I can grace as I've been graced.

Another new mercy morning.  Thank you, Lord.

(And since You know I'm going to need another one tomorrow, I will go ahead and thank You for that one, too.  And for the next one, and the next and the next...)

Maybe...the Best Has Yet to be Written

Same routine.  Every school morning.  Here at home.

Shortly after Bible and calendar, we jump right into the discipline of handwriting practice. 

While my third grader works diligently, perfecting her letters in cursive, my kindergartner works simultaneously, mastering the strokes of her manuscript alphabet.  All the while, we play the same game, in the same way--everyday.

We affectionately call it the, "find and circle your very best letter, which you just wrote on your paper" game.  Pretty original, right?

My youngest writes her letters.  She picks her favorite(s).  Then, I pick mine.

Object of the game--see if we agree on the same letter. 

Of course we all know the real game is just Mommy's slightly sneaky way of making sure darling daughter takes her time and takes pride in doing her best work.  And for the most part, Mommy's plan works accordingly.

Until the other day.

Here's a bit of the conversation which took place between my youngest pupil and me:

Me:  "Okay.  Let's see...which one will be your BEST letter today?  Hmm...I am SO excited.  I CANNOT wait to see which one it will be!"

Her:  (writes exactly one letter after example letter) "This is it.  This is the best one."

Me:  "Uh, yes, that one is really fantastic, but look.  You still have some more spaces so...you can write some more."

Her:  "I don't want to.  I already wrote the best one."

Me:  "I really think you should keep going.  Who knows?  Maybe the best has yet to be written."

With that, my budding writer picks up her pencil and moves it across the page.  When all is said and done, she's written a beautiful letter on every dot, on every line. (whew!)

Setting her pencil down, we both agree her very best letter was the one she'd written toward the end, after more time, more practice and more repetition.

She's surprised at herself and I'm surprised at the words I just spoke to her (especially after my last blog post).

Maybe my best has yet to be written, too. 

Why do I so often think my best times, best efforts, best moments are right now, or worse, that they've already occurred?

Why is it, particularly lately, that I have flashes when I am less than excited about the future coming to pass?

Why do I concern myself with the next couple of years when our family grows through adoption or the next ten years when I am the mother to three teenage girls or the next fifteen-twenty years when my home is just one big, very quiet, very empty nest?

If the scripture tells me that "all the days ordained for me were written in His book before even one of them came to be" (Psalm 139:16)...

And if the scripture tells me that "no eye has seen, no ear as heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him" (1 Corinthians 2:9)...

Then maybe I should be celebrating and laughing at the days to come (Proverbs 31:25) instead of exerting time, energy, and brain cells feeling hesitant and insecure.

Maybe, just maybe...my best, my absolute best, has yet to be written. 

How about you?  Do you believe your best has yet to come?