The Love Of Jesus

Going back a couple of years, I wrote a song called The Love Of Jesus.  It was written because I had gone "home" to Australia, and after a very long night with one of my loved ones there, who is not saved, I was inspired to write this song.
Most people think because Australia has Hillsong that they must all be christian.  Unfortunately that is not so.  About 2% are. I was raised in a denominational church, but by the time I was about eleven, I was the only one left, walking to church.  At about fifteen, I was invited to a rather radical church at the time and remember receiving Christ into my heart.  It was many years later that I learned that was not the only step in finding a relationship with my Lord.   I have always been considered to be the "crazy Christian" in my family and do not mind a bit.

But, when I was ministering to a young member of my immediate family, in the wee hours of the morning, all she could see was Auntie Kate, the crazy christian.  I poured my heart out into this song, not thinking of anything but my feelings for the situation at the time.  How crushed I was to find when I presented it for critique, it got more put downs that put ups.  Because I am a christian co-ordinator for the NSAI, I got that, but I also realized that I was too close to this song.  Part, or most of it had been poured out of my heart.  So, from a critique point of view, I knew the melody was fine, very fine, but the words?  Yup, I had to concede that the lyrics were those that I understood, but perhaps were a little mixed up for others to get the message.  I had mixed conversation with what I call "Christianise".  They are words and expressions that we as christians understand, but the unsaved don't.

It hung around in the back of my mind, until I was putting a set together the other day for a concert, and I realized just where I needed to come from to make the lyric of this song be as great as the melody.  It was birthed out of my passion for the "lost" kids in this world and I realized that my special family member that I had written this for, was no different.  She was as "lost" as the kids that go through fostering and adoption, abuse, neglect and lack of education in such matters, were.

I re-wrote that song in as many minutes and I wrote it the first time, but understanding so much more because of my experience and passion for the "lost" kids.  I re-record tomorrow.  I will post it tomorrow.  Please listen, maybe, just maybe, your heart will be changed forever about the "lost" children, who are victims in our society of parental alcohol and drug abuse which leads to extreme neglect.  Perhaps you will realize that the church once looked after these children and their was no Department Of Children and Family  Services.  If you don't believe me, find a Keith Green CD and listen to what he was saying, oh so many years ago, and we never listened.

Running The Race

We can start the race we run as a tortoise or a hare.  I think I am the former, although I wish to be the latter. Wow, that is deep.  I would like to get everywhere I want to be yesterday, but life does not permit that if we want to do what we do well, or even excellently.  When I rush things, without thinking through all of the components, I end up feeling overwhelmed and also feel I underachieved.  I am spontaneous by nature, but a planner by choice.  With nine children at home, impulsive decisions are almost always halted by the necessity to organize ten others people to get ready now, do it now, move it now.  Rarely does that happen.  Being spontaneous takes planning in our house and I think it combines the best of both worlds.

Rog is much more laid back than I am and I think that is what makes us work, with all of the kids, animals and busy careers and schedules.  We push each other in different ways, that ends up in a rather neat balance in the middle.  To actually run the race we are set before us, it takes planning, pace, ambition and obedience.  Each step is ordered, and when we stray from the path, the race just became longer.  I do this not willingly, but sometimes foolishly thinking I know the way instead of keeping my eyes on the prize set before me.  Invariably the prize becomes something I never dreamed of, a treat in the treasure box that is kept for me to find in obedience as I walk the maze that God has set before me.

For me, sometimes the path I run is strewn with cut glass, making me pick my way like a tortoise, being careful not to get stuff caught in my feet, sharp stones that cut and make you sit a while to find that the path is not the right one, just one that looked really good.  On the other hand, when I am hand in hand with my Maker, I run like the wind, and the path is smooth, easy, and fulfilling.

The thing I have learned in this race set before me, is to never run alone.

Changing times

There are times in our lives when things seem to go, ah, is this right?  Why am I doing this?  This has become hard.  I call it when it's time for the seasons to change.  That has been happening to me lately, or at least over the last few months.  Life is a circle, there is nothing new under the sun, but it all appears in a different way, an illusion that this is new, never been seen before.  It is just time to understand that the season has changed, and God is doing something new in your life.

Sometimes, we are reluctant, even downright stubborn about changing what we are currently doing, but if the season has changed and we don't change with it, we are about to be extremely uncomfortable, if not agitated.   We like, or at least I like comfort, ease with which I do things, comfort in knowing it is never changing, nothing unexpected hitting me in the face.  I know the order, the familiarity of the day to day, even if in the midst of that I am searching, seeking, asking for change.  Of course those are not my words, I am asking for that in totally different words.

And while I am in my completely comfortable zone, knowing all that is going on around me, nothing will change, unless I am willing to inaugurate that.  I am a creature of change, I don't like doing the same thing day after day, but when I am challenged to do something beyond my comfort zone, I am in the same questioning zone as everyone else.  That comes of a lack of confidence in the person we are created to be, to rise up and overcome regardless of our failings.

I know that I will press on, run the race, and hopefully win the prize if I am deemed worthy, but how many of us give up before we even try.  We give in to those voices that tell us "we can't"  "you won't" or you're too old, too young, not experienced enough.  I have learned a great lesson that your are never too old, you are never too young,  you never have enough experience, or knowledge, or ability for that matter, but when you are led, from within your heart to rise up and do whatever it is you know is right, then none of that matters in the least.  It is whether you will leave your comfort zone and leap out into the unknown and do marvelous things.  And even if you don't, it is better to try and fail than to never try at all.

The Journey

We all travel on a journey through our life.  Sometimes, it becomes difficult, almost impossible to navigate, and other times it is  easy, it just all seems to fall together in a plan that seems to fall from the heavens.  I have found in my life that the journey is just a means to the end.  And the end never comes.  It maybe the end of this question, or stumbling block, but it begins again with another.  It becomes a circle and for the want of sounding trite, it is the circle of life.  For God is always working our life, bringing what is needed to the foreground and then letting us resolve and settle for a while before the next obstacle arises.

We think, or more specifically, I think, that many of these things are distractions, trying to keep us from the goal we are specifically sent to achieve.  We can get caught up in many things that are of no consequence in our lives, disagreements, every day issues that soak up our time and energy from the things that we are called to.  Sometimes, we mistake that these callings are more important than our family, our spouse, our kids and our church, even our Lord.  We cannot see the forest for the trees and believe we are sacrificing for our calling.

How do I know this?  Because I foolishly once believed my calling was above all else, when indeed, my calling was first to my Lord and then to my family, scripturally as well as morally.  We can all aspire to become many things, but being a wife, a mother, a daughter, a follower of Christ is surely the most important.  Fame is said to be success.  Let me assure you success is not fame or fortune, it is achieving the goal set before you, and running the race to the finish.

My Child

At the moment in my life I find it all very interesting.  My younger kids, 9 of them at home, are all going along without too many hicups considering the varying and diverse disorders, quirks, backgrounds etc that we deal with.  At the moment the focus seems to be on the older children, or at least a couple of them.  May I remind those with young children, that no, you don't get rid of them at 18 when they go to "college" and they are still around, if you are VERY lucky, when they either graduate, find their niche in life without college, get married and begin families of their own.

I am one of the VERY LUCKY ones who has all of my children, older and younger, and grandchildren, born, and in the womb, a part of my daily life.  I get to be part of the morning sickness, the funny stories about the unusually talented grandchildren, the shoulder to lean on when things are tough, like the new house is not going to happen, the old house is upside down in the mortgage and what do we do with that, the struggles of the working mom with young children and daycare and the tears spent about all of that.

I was fortunate to birth four children, with difficulty, but even more fortunate to be able to adopt and nurture so many other children that will always be in my heart.  Children never leave, even if they are with you a little while, and the longer you have them the longer they stay.  Some of you will remember CeCe, my oldest Liberian child, who, because of circumstance, could not follow my advice, but had to follow her African survival instincts and know she would MAKE life happen for her.  I am so glad, that despite my wanting her to follow the ways I set down, and the mistakes she has made, we are still Mum and daughter.  She still wants me in her life, to talk, to advise, to just be Mum.  She is now a Mum, a very young one, with no-one else to turn to.  I am thankful that God softened my heart, to see around the foolishness bound up in the heart of a child, to still accept and love her regardless of the disagreements we have had.

I have never just accepted all of my children's choices but questioned, prayed and hoped all would be fine.  Most of it has worked just fine, despite my inner fears, but some of it hasn't and I have had to be the one to swallow any judgement I may have had, and be Mum, just Mum.  For if you aren't, they will turn away from everything you have taught them through all of the years, the many years, that you have nurtured, loved, encouraged, and have just been there to listen.  I believe the Lord said "Train a child in the way that it should go" but that is not a few years, it is a lifetime.   Because, even now, my child is still my child, even if she is nearly 40 years old.  She is still my child.

Life With 14 Kids and a cold

Gosh, I can just about count on something happening when Rog goes out of town (and vice versa).  I have been trying not to have a cold for maybe a week or so and Rog catches a plane and I catch a cold.  The kids, all nine of them, somehow know you are without back up.  It's like they all get together and say, well, there's only one of them, HA!  Now Rog he just keeps coding and just about when I am due home, sends them all into clean up mode.  Me, I'm in clean up mode all the time.  It's just easier.  If you have a large family, you live in chaos, or are extremely organized.  I am the latter.  I am the only one in my family like this, so on a constant daily basis, I corral 10 other people into being tidy and organized.  Rog, of course, just smiles and keeps on coding (he's a low level  computer security guru for those of you who don't know).  His smile is so contagious that I just give up on him and go after the other nine.

Anyway, today is when deep cleaning housekeeper comes, for which I am eternally grateful.  Literally, and do mean literally, five minutes after she is gone I am picking up after said nine children.  Normally this is not a biggie, but my nose is running, and I am grumpy.  I have a Metropolitan Atlanta Theatre Awards rehearsal at 6.30.  I have to cook dinner for ten before I go.  I have to look like I don't have a cold and be professional.  I am a presenter as well as a nominee.  Have to look cool.  You know how that goes.  I DO NOT FEEL COOL.  In fact, I am not sure I am not running a fever.  Well, it's called the "Show" must go on and it did.  The kids eventually all pitched in as they usually do, and have all settled down.  Some, the younger ones are in bed and the older ones are chillin' getting ready to same.

I got some news on radio play on my single "God Of Glory" (which is on the latest added by the way), and news from my producer Doug Sizemore that my first two songs from my new cd "The Adoption Thing" will be uploaded to me as soon as they land and get  settled.  He is Reba McIntere's Musical Director and left on tour today.  Her guitarist, Jim, is mixing.  I am stoked because they are going to do a live recording of the last song before sound check one day this week.  If you ever get to go see them, they are not only talented, but really great guys and gals.

So tomorrow is another day, and it is an early start to milk the goats, get the lunches etc before school.  I am looking forward to picking up Rog in the evening and life with 14 will return to normal.

New Adventures

In the last couple of weeks our eldest set of twins, who are now sixteen, have taken a real interest in camping.  So, because we are fortunate to live on a suburban farm, with fishing ponds, goats, chickens and horses, they don't have to go far to experience a night in a tent.  So, we got the tent etc and they have set up outside and had a great time.  That of course, led to us thinking about how they could have a bigger adventure, and hence the scouts came up.

Both the boys have learning disabilities so in our struggles through the years to pinpoint and conquer their unique way of learning, somehow scouts and cubs didn't arise.  Of course we tried baseball, which was great until they got to fast pitch.  Then because of their visual perception and slightly shaky hands, they decided that was definitely not for them.  Swimming was sport of choice, and lately a little soccer and basketball, but even though both Rog and I were cubs and brownies, the subject didn't arise.  Until now.

Rog suddenly came up with the idea, inquired and low and behold there is a scout troop just a mile or so from our house.  So we now have three out of our four boys in the boy scouts.  I would have thought sixteen was too old to start, but I guess just as in every other part of life, you are never too old.  Isaiah, our liberian child, declined to go, but after this weekend he might just change his mind.  It seems the troop is off to Ellijay, in North Georgia, for camping and kayaking from Friday to Sunday.  I have warned them about bears and not straying too far.  There is a family joke about their sense of direction.  But all jokes aside, I know this will be a great adventure for them.

The other really funny thing is that Rog has become the assistant Cub Scout Master.  He still isn't sure how he landed that one, but he is off camping with Zach in a couple of weeks as well.  What a great organization that has served our children for so many years.  Sometimes, the simplest things in life can give the greatest pleasure.

Ukraine Orphans

On Saturday night I had the privilege of being part of a fundraiser for a young lady called Candice who is traveling to the Ukraine next Friday to minister to the children in six orphanages around the area.  Watching slide after slide of these children who all have big smiles and look happy on the outside, I was reminded once again of the similar faces with big smiles and sad eyes of the lost children who live just around the corner from all of us.  The numbers keep growing in this age where poverty is not the reason for children coming into foster care any more.

When asked why the children in the Ukraine were in foster care, most not eligible for adoption, the answer was the same as in the United States.  Drugs and alcohol, mostly.  These children though, unlike here on our home shores, are still tied to their parents living in limbo, unable to move on, as their parents can keep signing a piece of paper that keeps their parental rights intact.  In these situations where is the hope?  What is becoming of this generation of children who are growing up in the foster care system with not enough caring people to look after them?

The same situation is here in our country.  If you ever have the chance to google children waiting for adoption in America, your eyes will be surely opened.  Unfortunately, the statistics of children who age out of the foster care system without having found their forever home through adoption, are that some 90% will end up on the street or in some form of criminal activity.  The saddest part of all of this is that most people aren't even aware these "lost" children exist.