Santa's Cause

I am changed.  I have had children in my home who have come from horrific circumstances.  Some have stayed only a night; others a few weeks.  I know of needs in my community and try my best to meet them.  If I am not able to meet the needs I solicited the help of others.  I consider myself a giving person.  If I have it and you need it, you’re welcome to it.  I consider myself a fixer.  The Lord has blessed me with the gift of discernment.  I have been this way for as long as I can remember and discerning situations usually fulfills my need to fix situations.  Until tonight. 

The Banker and I took The Ladies to Santa’s Cause (look them up on Facebook: www.facebook.com/SantasCause) The concept is a simple one.  Grant the wishes of those who need a little help and some magic this Christmas.  They incorporate Santa and gift giving into the reason we celebrate.  All the glory goes to Him. 

The Banker dresses up as Santa and I his favorite elf.  We loaded up our car with toys and treats for 5 children and headed to their house.  When GOOGLE maps took me to this shed I was for sure we were lost.  I had The Banker check the address again.  The Tweenagers were looking on their phones to make sure I had the right location.  The shed was sketchy at best.  I’m not going to lie, I was scared to get out of my car.  The Ladies didn’t want me to go but something moved in my soul.  I heard “fear not. I am with you.”  Not one thing could have kept me in my car after that.  I knew we were in the place that the Lord needed us to be.  So, I got out and walked up to the makeshift door.  I knocked and a little girl answered.  I said “Hello!  I am Santa’s favorite elf.  Is your mom home?”  The little girl said yes and when she opened the door my life was changed.  I saw the plywood walls covered with duct tape and blankets.  The wood slat floor held a king size bed, a bunk bed, a futon, a TV, and a refrigerator.  The single room house had no running water, no central heat or air, and no bathroom. I had to find my words.  Santa’s favorite elf could not be speechless.  I told them I had been sent from the North Pole and I wanted to bring a special visitor in to meet them. 

I walked back to my car to get The Ladies and Santa out of the car.  I sat in my seat to compose myself.  My kids were dumbfounded at my speechlessness and The Banker looked at me with sadness in his eyes.  He knows that I am an incredibly composed person so it takes a great deal to shake me but I was moved. 

The door didn’t open wide enough for all of us to get inside.  There was not enough room for all 10 of us in the single room.  There was absolutely zero room for all the gifts we brought.  My family and I looked around at the poverty we were witnessing in our own backyard.  You guys, THIS WAS IN OKLAHOMA CITY!  My kids were taking cues from me and I kept the magic alive.  I was hopping and clapping and smiling and doing what elves do (despite being mentally exhausted from my Monday and real life) and I heard it again. That voice. “He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless.  Even youths will become weak and tired, and young men will fall in exhaustion.  But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.  They will soar high on wings like eagles.  They will run and not grow weary.  They will walk and not faint.” 

Every house (read: shed) had the same story.  The walls were not insulated, the floors were not stable, the water was not there and the children were hungry.  My family left and went to gather coats, hats and gloves for everyone.  We were able to deliver a second load of gifts to the neighbor kids along with cold weather gear. 

When we left, I wasn’t the only one speechless.  It took a good 5 minutes before anyone said anything and when they spoke it was out of love. They want to help and they want to know how and why basic needs aren’t being met.  For these questions, I have no answers but I do know the Lord used the Smith’s to change my life and the lives of my children.  The Bible tells us “I tell you whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine you did for me.”  But I can promise you the Smith’s did more for us than we did for them.  

Today I attended a breakout session called Making Poetry From Your Memories.  The assignment was to pull up a memory then pull 5 tangible items from that memory.  Once those 5 have been identified we were asked to add a few descriptive words to the words.  The following is the poem I created from a memory I had from an experience 7 years ago.  This is a different style of writing for me.  It is intimidating.  

The Zoo

Standing amidst the people

Busy, unaware people.

The handle in my hand

Worn and familiar.

Sipping the cool,

Smooth, sweet brew.

I hear the tone not knowing

The power and weight of the moment

She will not be. He is no more. 

The tone suddenly empathetic

Yet not comforting.

I am angry. Hurt.

The burden oppresses my former joy

I ponder the lost wonder.

The brew now bitter

Sharp, tart, and sour.

My grasp is ridged and strained.

The familiar is lost

Worn now seems damaged

Everything fell apart while I stood

Atop a stained and cracked floor.

On September 22nd, 2007 I received a phone call while I was at the zoo with Macy and Carlie that the baby I was carrying had stopped growing and had no heartbeat.  4 days later I miscarried our 3rd baby.  Lilly Pie is what I now know to be a Rainbow Baby.  She is the answer to my unanswered prayer.  She is everything I never knew my heart needed to heal.  She is the completion to our infertility story.  

When the Ladies were born I made a vow to the Lord that I would not take their childhood for granted.  I desperately wanted to be a stay at home mom and the Lord granted me what I asked of Him.  When #littlebit started school I wanted to get my degree and work outside my home.  And I did so.

I enjoy working.  My mind goes nonstop from the time I wake up until it finally crashes at night.  I swear I have an undiagnosed attention span disorder.  My first job after being a stay at home mom was in an insurance office.  I loved my time there.  Then, if you’ll remember with me, I took a job with Dad.  I spent about 6 months with Dad before I landed my dream job with the Midwest City Chamber of Commerce.  My Chamber job encompassed all of my passions!  I was out in the community I love, talking about places I like, with people I know.  It really cannot get better than that!  I had an office with a window and super fab decorations. But….

I realized, not too long ago, that I was missing things with The Ladies that I did not want to miss.  I was having to sacrifice cheering time at ball games.  I was having to rely on others to get them to all the places they needed to be.  I felt rushed and scattered all the time.  I spent about two days in deep conversations with Jesus and He again reminded me that they’re only with me for a short time then I have to send them out into the world and pray I have prepared them for success.  So I made a decision that I trust He will bless.  I quit my job. 

Taking that kind of faith jump is TERRIFYING!  I am trusting Him that He knows what He’s doing.  I have met with all the appropriate people (lawyers, CPA’s, bankers) and have a plan but I am still skeered.  I know I have made the right decision and I know that The Ladies will be the benefactors of such an unconventional decision, however, I am a little nervous.  I will still work only now I will office out of my kitchen.  I will have many plates still spinning but I get to set my own schedule.  I’ll be owner, manager, CEO, mom, maid, cook and taxi driver.  Stick with me and see where this adventure takes me.

And my new business name:  

W  A  N  N  A  B  E

         

           Enterprises, LLC

 Because I don't know what I wannabe professionally.  

A Presidential Campaign Loss

The hardest thing for me as a mother is knowing that the world will disappoint my child and there is not one thing I can do to stop it.  I consider myself to be a decently well rounded person (read: girl) who is rarely, outwardly affected by situations.  Contrary to what The Banker may tell you I am usually meticulous in my thought process and take my time before reacting to a situation. Until it comes to The Ladies.  Their hurts pierce my heart with such depth that I find it impossible to breathe.  In the moments where there are no words to bring comfort and all I can do I stand tall and physically hold her up I find out how devastating motherhood can be.  I pray a million prayers, silently over her, and hope that she never has to feel the pain she is feeling in this moment ever again.  All the while knowing that she will eventually be hurt by this world again. 

Today Carlie Bug stood before her student body and delivered her STUCO presidential speech.  Let’s just stop right there.  This child, all of 10, stood before 400 classmates and teachers and delivered a speech.  I know grown people who won’t do that.  For this I must applaud her.  She believed with all of her heart that she had prepared a speech that summed up her campaign.  She absolutely wants to make a difference in the lives of the teachers at her school.  When the ballots were counted she came up short.  She did not win the Student Council President spot.  Cue a broken hearted little girl. 

There is much to be learned from this day.  First of all, the outcome does not reflect the effort.  My girl put her heart and soul into this race and to some is may just be a 5^th grade student council race but to her it was everything she stands for.  She prayed blessing over herself and her friends while they ran.  Not to be selfish but that’s just who she is. Jesus, JFK and Momma.  That’s how she rolls.  If she desires something and she feels as though God has led her to that point she will ask for specific blessings.  Once we get passed the tears we will reflect on her drive and determination during this race.  It is admirable.  Secondly, failure in the eyes of man can often times be disguised as a blessing from Him.  With 100% certainty I can tell you I am not ready to preach the “blessings in disguise” sermon to my girl but having lived 35ish years I’ve learned a thing or two about unanswered prayers.  I know that this day is a building block, a stepping stone for her and we will be able to use the defeat as a tool … someday.  Lastly, we will continue to fine tune our grace toward others.  The wee person who won is a friend to Carlie.  There are NO hard feelings toward this wee person but overcoming disappointment and extending a congratulatory handshake, when you’re 10, is tough.  It is very hard to separate feelings at this age so we will start working on this tomorrow. 

Tonight we will just put on our best sleeping shirt, shed a few more tears and cry ourselves to sleep.  

The used shoe ministry

I met a little girl yesterday.  She is a sweet little girl who wore sandals in the sand volleyball pit.  While the kids were playing volleyball, she opted to sit out because she “had sand in her shoes”.  Knowing there had to be more to the story than that, I made my way over to sit next to her.  I noticed the sandal was broken.  The fabric that attaches to the sole of the shoe was torn.  I could see that she was embarrassed. 

There are moments in life that are meant to be handled discreetly and with sincere gentleness.  This child does not know me.  Truth be told she probably could not tell you my name.  I asked her if I could help her get the sand out of her shoe.  Reluctantly she handed the shoe to me.  I pounded the heel of the shoe into the palm of my hand, over exaggerating the act of getting sand off a backless, side less shoe.  Then I announced her shoe was broken.  In this moment, I wanted this child to know that she was cared for.  I said to her “oh my word!  I broke your shoe!  I am SO sorry.”  Her little eyes looked up at me, perplexed and embarrassment crawled across her face.  I continued, “I am such a goof.  I cannot believe I did that!  You probably wish you had a new teacher, huh?”  Those big brown eyes continued to tell me that she thought I was completely out of my mind but she was searching for the reason(s) behind my behavior. 

I hopped off the bleacher and told her that I must replace her shoes, immediately.  I whispered to my co-teachers and jetted home.  We do not have a lot but we have enough.  My garage is filled with tossed aside clothes, shoes and baby dolls that my children have outgrown or replaced.  I am not a mother who uses the “there are children starving to death in Africa, you should feel bad for not eating your peas” speech.  I never want my children to feel shamed for their blessings, however, I reiterate that because of His blessings upon our lives we are able and called to help others.  I rummaged through a box full of outgrown shoes and flip-flops, tossed them in a bag and hustled back to church.

I found my new friend, gracefully walking as to not disturb the torn shoe.  I pulled her into a room and plopped down on the floor.  I told her that I felt terrible for breaking her shoe and the only way I could get a good night’s sleep was if I replaced the shoes. I gave her two pair of tennis shoes, a pair of flip-flops and a pair of church shoes.  The million-watt smile that spread across her face brought me to tears. 

I tell you this not to be boastful but rather enlighten you that sometimes untruths are a way of ministry.  The truth of the matter is that I did not break her shoe.  It was broken long before I met her.  What I want her to know is that somewhere, some crazy teacher met a basic need and cares for her.  I am allowing myself to be her excuse and that is OK.  All the wee people who are in my life regularly know that no matter what I will be the fall guy.  Material things should not be coveted but occasionally, especially in a setting of many children, material possessions can be a make it or break it deal.  Don’t believe me?  Ask a child who has a broken shoe how she feels when she is surrounded by children who do not.

I do not make it a habit to perpetuate lies but occasionally I tell untruths to buy some time to round up a pair of used shoes.

The Worst Mom Ever, 9 years in a row.

Today we picked up the #tweenager 7^th grade schedule.  In our school, there are two teams.  Neither of the teams are better or worse than the other; I assume they divide them up so the teachers are not overwhelmed by the amount of kids.  My daughter spent the whole summer dreaming about team A.  She just knew that team A was where it is at.  She looked forward to chatting it up with her friends in Pre-Algebra, hanging out in the hall during passing period and eating lunch at the 7^th grade table.  When we reached the end of the “prove your residence, shot record, and buy the agenda” line we picked up the coveted schedule.  When she read the team name at the top her eyes immediately filled with tears.  Most of her friends had already gotten their schedules and of those that had picked them up, they already knew they were on the other team.  Que the meltdown.  

I have said since they were tiny that “I am not raising children who like me, rather I am raising adults others will want to be around.”  The jury is still out as to whether that statement will ring true but I do have a few reasons why I will not fix this situation for her.  Sure, I have the ability to call the school and give them a piece of my mind, name drop, and word vomit all the reasons she needs to be on Team A but I am choosing not to.  Why?  Well, here in the real world it is not that easy at all.  (It is ok if you sing that last sentence and pretend you are Alan Jackson.) 

I remember when they were babies and they were toddling around and would fall.  Most of the time if I under reacted and paid no attention to the scene they would pop right back up and be on their way.  I find that if I do not come running every time they fall down eventually they learn how to walk.  Imagine that!  There was no way I could pad every corner and prevent every fall; eventually they had to learn to do things for themselves.  Choosing to let her experience this stumble does not make me a mean mom.  In fact I kind of think it makes me a decent mom who her future employer, college professor and husband my thank me for.  She must build skills to cope with life because it only gets harder. (Trust me child, I know you are rolling your eyes right about now because you know everything.)

I love that my daughters have great friends.  I love that my home is ground zero for loud, hungry, sweaty girls.  I enjoy when my home is filled with giggles and girls.  However, what I really love is the character I see within these wee people.  I do see some great athletes in the mix, some of them are super smart but all of them have a great set of core values.  THAT’S what I am interested in.  I am empathetic that my child will not have lunch with all of her friends.  I am a little sad that she will be upset the first several weeks of school but I know by allowing her to experience short-term disappointment will teach her a long-term lesson. 

And that my friends is what makes me the worst mom ever.