Sunday, November 3, 2013
A Walk Down Memory Lane
Beau Comes Home from Brandon Gresham on Vimeo.
Just a little walk down memory lane in honor of Orphan Sunday.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Let's Play
If that is not the face of pure joy, then I don't know what is! And this is a child who would not have ever gotten on a swing a few months ago!
Beau's first time on twisty slide!!!
The 30 Year Old Pumpkin
My mom lovingly made my first Halloween costume....a fluffy little pumpkin! She found the pattern in a magazine 30 years ago and spent lots of nights cutting the pieces and sewing it together. I wore the pumpkin costume in 1983.
1983
{My mom and me in my dad's office. I was 6 months old.}
2013
{Palmer in the 30 year old costume that I wore! Palmer is also 6 months old.}
Thanks mom for making such a great costume that has stood the test of time!
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
A Day of Firsts
Beau's first time on a tricycle!
We've had this tricycle for quite some time, but Beau has never been interested in trying it! Until today! Go Beau Go! His legs are still just a little bit short to reach the pedals, but he is almost there!
Thanks Karen for this tricycle!
Palmer's first day wearing hand me downs from big brother Beau!!! During the day he wore a gap onesie and gap pants that Nana and Pipi gave Beau when he first came home.
Monday, October 21, 2013
The Power of the Written Word
Today marks six months since my dad met Jesus face to face. Some days I cry out to God and beg him for a miracle and just one more day with my dad. One more conversation. One more memory. One more picture. While I know God has the power to do that, most likely I will not see my dad again until I join him in Heaven. What a day of rejoicing that will be!
There are lots of things I could say about missing my dad everyday for the last six months, but today I want to share about the power of the written word.
I have always had an affinity for handwritten notes. I love pretty stationary. I love pens that write effortlessly across the paper. I love having a lot of stamps so that I know I can write and mail a letter at any time. My grandmother Diddie (my dad's mom) and I called each other pen pals and wrote many letters back and forth. But the power of the written word is even more evident now than ever before.
There are lots of things I could say about missing my dad everyday for the last six months, but today I want to share about the power of the written word.
I have always had an affinity for handwritten notes. I love pretty stationary. I love pens that write effortlessly across the paper. I love having a lot of stamps so that I know I can write and mail a letter at any time. My grandmother Diddie (my dad's mom) and I called each other pen pals and wrote many letters back and forth. But the power of the written word is even more evident now than ever before.
One of the most beautiful blessings hidden among the grief, are all of the written words my dad left behind for my mom. Years worth of birthday cards, anniversary cards, Valentine's Day cards, etc. My dad took time to do more than simply sign his name. He wrote meaningful words of love and affection to my mom. Those cards and notes were certainly a treasure to read at the time she received them, but they are even more priceless now. What a gift to have handwritten love notes from the love of your life.
After my dad passed away, my mom had all of their text messages between the two of them printed. Even in his texts to my mom, my dad typed notes of love that sound like they are teenagers just falling in love. I hope that after 32 years of marriage, my words to Raleigh are filled with the same type of abundant affection. What a priceless treasure for my mom to have those printed texts. Reminders of their powerful love story.
Shortly after my dad passed away, my mom was cleaning out their "junk drawer"...you know the drawer where you have everything from pens, scissors, mail that needs to be filed away, etc. As she was going through the drawer and savoring every piece of paper that had my dad's handwriting on it, she came across a jewel that he had recently written.
If you can't read it, it says:
To Be - To Do
No Nonsense List
Be more compassionate
Be more supportive of Paula and kids
Be more (?)
Do Something - Be Active
Dress Up More
One Date Night
Isn't this an amazing treasure? The funny thing is, he was the most compassionate person I know! And always 110% supportive of my mom and me and my siblings. He was more active even in poor health than many people are in good health. He always pushed himself to get outside, go out to eat with my mom, etc even if he might not have really felt like it. I truly believe that one reason he lived so long is because he kept living! He did not just give up or give in to cancer. He fought with every fiber of his being, and he lived fully...making memories and continuing to experience life.
My challenge to myself and to you is to think of how you can use the power of written words to bless others. Maybe it will be a blessing for that person today. Maybe the blessing will come later. Maybe it will simply bring a smile to someone's face when they open the mailbox and find a handwritten note.
The last written note I have from my dad is the note he wrote in my birthday card this year. It was my 30th birthday and also the day Palmer and I were discharged from the hospital. We went straight from the hospital where Palmer was born to see my dad. I of course didn't know it at the time, but that was also the last time Beau would see my dad. I will cherish that birthday card and my dad's handwriting and the note he wrote forever.
"Let us all leave behind letters of
love and friendship,
family and devotion,
hope and consolation,
so that future generations
will know what we
valued and believed
and achieved."
-Marian Wright Edelman
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Coos and Crumbs
I have always loved going to church. I grew up attending a small non-denominational church where my grandfather, Howard, was the pastor. It was a sweet place where hymns were sung on Sunday mornings and you sat in pews with your neighbor. My grandmother ,Diddie, taught Sunday school until she was physically no longer able. Diddie's father, Jack, was the founding pastor and my grandfather preached his first sermon in the fall of 1968.
I came to know Jesus when I was 6 and wanted to be baptized immediately. My grandfather's church, Community Hall, still did baptisms in the river but it happened to be winter when I asked Jesus into my heart. I didn't want to wait until it was warm enough to be baptized in the river, so I was baptized in the bathtub at my house. I still remember the pink dress I wore. Community Hall Church was known as "a house of prayer for all people." It was a church where you could find the misfits and the socialites joining hands and breaking bread together.
When we moved from East Tennessee to Nashville, our new church home was Christ Community in Franklin. I was about 7 when we started attending there. Almost all of my church memories when I was young, include me sitting with my parents during church. Unless my mom was the Sunday school teacher that year, I wanted to sit with my parents in the sanctuary. And my parents always allowed me to sit with them. I do not have one single memory of being forced to go to Sunday school against my will. Now, I was expected to behave in church, but I grew up sitting with my parents in church. Once I was in middle school, I had an amazing youth pastor, Cammy, and a best friend at church and at that time I started wanting to attend the youth class during Sunday mornings and I made the transition then to go to Sunday school.
Other than the years that my mom taught the class, I always sat with my parents during church when I was little.
Fast forward to present time. When we first moved to Atlanta, we lived in a cozy guest house. It happened to be at the home of Cammy's parents. I remember that when we moved in, Cammy's parents told us that it took them four years to find a church home in Atlanta. Raleigh and I laughed. We had previously been attending Brook Hills in Birmingham and felt confident that we would quickly find a new church home in Atlanta. That was in 2007.
It is now 2013 and we are still not settled into a church home. There have been seasons over the last 6 years that we have been regular attenders at various churches, but we most definitely never found a church home. A lot of that is our own sinful nature to find the "perfect church."
Well, the last two Sundays we have visited churches.
Last week we attended a large baptist church near our house. When we arrived, we must have had "new" written on our foreheads because we were quickly greeted by the volunteer at the welcome desk. She was very nice, and she quickly started giving us directions to the children's area so we could check-in Beau and Palmer. I very nicely and without much thought told her they were going to just sit with us for the day. She acted like we were aliens from mars and proceeded to "sell us" on why we should let the boys go the the children's area. Once she realized we had already made our minds up, she showed us the "cry room."
Now, I totally value everything about children's programs and the church nursery and the cry room. They are all very good things. But right now, Beau's sweet disposition is not one that thrives in situations like that. If you know Beau, you know that there is no way he would willingly walk into a Sunday school class without me or Raleigh. He feels safe and most secure when he is with at least one parent or family member. And that is ok. I have no doubt that God has and is doing amazing things in Beau's heart and I feel confident that one day Beau will go to his own Sunday school class. But that day is not today. And that is ok. I sat with my parents in church until I was in middle school.
Last week, Palmer slept the entire service and Beau sat like a perfect gentleman the entire time. The only way someone would have known that a child was in the pew would have been the vanilla wafer crumbs left behind on the floor. Had Beau or Palmer started crying, I most definitely would have walked them out into the lobby or cry room, but they will never learn how to sit in church if they don't have an opportunity to practice. And I am not going to force Beau into a children's program until he is ready, especially when we are visiting a church for the first time. Why would I want to make church a miserable experience for him? He is happy to sit with us. He loves singing and clapping and saying amen and opening his Bible when he sees others open theirs.
This Sunday we were excited to try a church I've been wanting to try for a while. When we arrived, the music was amazing. Dove award winning artists led the worship and Beau enjoying "singing" to songs that we sing at home. After the worship, the congregation sat down and there was a short "welcome" from a staff member. Of the 5-7 minute welcome, 3-5 minutes was spent telling the congregation why their children should be in children's church. He explained that parents can focus better on the sermon if they are not distracted by their children. And then there was a whole talk about the mother's room. Some members of the congregation actually said, "amen" when he offered the mother's room as a place for children who were not in Sunday school. I am not kidding. It was as if families with young children sitting in the sanctuary were wearing a scarlet letter. This is a well-known, highly attended church with very well known pastors and worship leaders. At this stage in my life, my children are not a distraction. Much of my role as a mother...even during church... is my act of worship. Picking up vanilla wafer crumbs or bouncing Palmer on my hip while singing is not a distraction...it is just my stage of life. Whether I'm at home or in a church building, I'm probably picking up crumbs or holding a child. I love the fellowship of gathering with other believers on Sunday morning and I am happy for Beau and Palmer to join along.
Palmer started cooing about 10 minutes into the sermon today. He was not crying. He was not fussing. He was simply cooing like any 6 month old might do. We were sitting in the back row, so that we would not cause any distraction. But since there had been a whole "speech" about young children in church, Raleigh quickly walked him out. Again, hear me saying that I would be the first to walk my child out if he was whining or crying or being any type of distraction to those around. But I really don't think he was.
I believe there is a place for young children in church. There is absolutely nothing wrong with Sunday school or church nursery. In fact, those are both very good things. I loved when my mom taught Sunday school. Raleigh's mom writes amazing children's curriculum and I know that the children exposed to her lessons are blessed to know more about Jesus. I plan to send Palmer to church nursery at some point soon and would absolutely love it if Beau feels comfortable going to Sunday school one day. I would happily teach Beau's Sunday school class and would love it!
But is there no longer a place for children to sit with their parents during church if for some reason a family makes that choice?
At the end of the service, there was a wonderful vignette on a member of the church family who had recently returned home with their newly adopted son. It was a story of God's ability to redeem a tragedy. But as a church, those who have a relationship with Jesus, we can't with one side of our mouths praise the redemptive parts of adoption, but not acknowledge the messy parts too. I have no doubt that one of the reasons that Beau does not like being "checked in" and "dropped off" at children's church is because three times in his life he was dropped off by his caregiver, and she never came back. There are messy parts of adoption. God is good and makes beauty out of ashes, but in a perfect world, Beau would live with his birth mother in his birth culture with his birth siblings.
If a church wants to share the amazing adoption testimonies of families welcoming children home, (which is obviously amazing and something I am passionate about) let's also welcome those children into the church pews on Sunday morning. The healing doesn't stop when a child enters a new home and a new family. In fact, that is just the beginning.
I really do know that Jesus was present at both church services the last two weeks. I have no doubt that God was glorified and people grew in their walks with Christ. Both churches are good churches doing kingdom things.
But while we are still visiting churches, Beau and Palmer will probably be sitting with us. We may bring with us some coos and some crumbs, but I know God can use that time to plant seeds in their little hearts. Seeds that will continue to be watered and grow. I pray that both Palmer and Beau will have Godly Sunday school teachers and youth leaders one day that will pour Jesus into them. Until then, they are learning by watching our example.
And just as a side note: The mother's room and children's area at today's church looked amazing. The mother's room had couches, chairs, brand new baby swings, a jumpy, bumbo seats, a changing area, etc. The children's area was a huge room separated into classes by tents. Each class met in a tent. I mean, I can imagine most little boys absolutely love that! How fun to go to Sunday school in a tent! Maybe one day that will be just the right fit for Beau and Palmer :)
I came to know Jesus when I was 6 and wanted to be baptized immediately. My grandfather's church, Community Hall, still did baptisms in the river but it happened to be winter when I asked Jesus into my heart. I didn't want to wait until it was warm enough to be baptized in the river, so I was baptized in the bathtub at my house. I still remember the pink dress I wore. Community Hall Church was known as "a house of prayer for all people." It was a church where you could find the misfits and the socialites joining hands and breaking bread together.
When we moved from East Tennessee to Nashville, our new church home was Christ Community in Franklin. I was about 7 when we started attending there. Almost all of my church memories when I was young, include me sitting with my parents during church. Unless my mom was the Sunday school teacher that year, I wanted to sit with my parents in the sanctuary. And my parents always allowed me to sit with them. I do not have one single memory of being forced to go to Sunday school against my will. Now, I was expected to behave in church, but I grew up sitting with my parents in church. Once I was in middle school, I had an amazing youth pastor, Cammy, and a best friend at church and at that time I started wanting to attend the youth class during Sunday mornings and I made the transition then to go to Sunday school.
Other than the years that my mom taught the class, I always sat with my parents during church when I was little.
Fast forward to present time. When we first moved to Atlanta, we lived in a cozy guest house. It happened to be at the home of Cammy's parents. I remember that when we moved in, Cammy's parents told us that it took them four years to find a church home in Atlanta. Raleigh and I laughed. We had previously been attending Brook Hills in Birmingham and felt confident that we would quickly find a new church home in Atlanta. That was in 2007.
It is now 2013 and we are still not settled into a church home. There have been seasons over the last 6 years that we have been regular attenders at various churches, but we most definitely never found a church home. A lot of that is our own sinful nature to find the "perfect church."
Well, the last two Sundays we have visited churches.
Last week we attended a large baptist church near our house. When we arrived, we must have had "new" written on our foreheads because we were quickly greeted by the volunteer at the welcome desk. She was very nice, and she quickly started giving us directions to the children's area so we could check-in Beau and Palmer. I very nicely and without much thought told her they were going to just sit with us for the day. She acted like we were aliens from mars and proceeded to "sell us" on why we should let the boys go the the children's area. Once she realized we had already made our minds up, she showed us the "cry room."
Now, I totally value everything about children's programs and the church nursery and the cry room. They are all very good things. But right now, Beau's sweet disposition is not one that thrives in situations like that. If you know Beau, you know that there is no way he would willingly walk into a Sunday school class without me or Raleigh. He feels safe and most secure when he is with at least one parent or family member. And that is ok. I have no doubt that God has and is doing amazing things in Beau's heart and I feel confident that one day Beau will go to his own Sunday school class. But that day is not today. And that is ok. I sat with my parents in church until I was in middle school.
Last week, Palmer slept the entire service and Beau sat like a perfect gentleman the entire time. The only way someone would have known that a child was in the pew would have been the vanilla wafer crumbs left behind on the floor. Had Beau or Palmer started crying, I most definitely would have walked them out into the lobby or cry room, but they will never learn how to sit in church if they don't have an opportunity to practice. And I am not going to force Beau into a children's program until he is ready, especially when we are visiting a church for the first time. Why would I want to make church a miserable experience for him? He is happy to sit with us. He loves singing and clapping and saying amen and opening his Bible when he sees others open theirs.
This Sunday we were excited to try a church I've been wanting to try for a while. When we arrived, the music was amazing. Dove award winning artists led the worship and Beau enjoying "singing" to songs that we sing at home. After the worship, the congregation sat down and there was a short "welcome" from a staff member. Of the 5-7 minute welcome, 3-5 minutes was spent telling the congregation why their children should be in children's church. He explained that parents can focus better on the sermon if they are not distracted by their children. And then there was a whole talk about the mother's room. Some members of the congregation actually said, "amen" when he offered the mother's room as a place for children who were not in Sunday school. I am not kidding. It was as if families with young children sitting in the sanctuary were wearing a scarlet letter. This is a well-known, highly attended church with very well known pastors and worship leaders. At this stage in my life, my children are not a distraction. Much of my role as a mother...even during church... is my act of worship. Picking up vanilla wafer crumbs or bouncing Palmer on my hip while singing is not a distraction...it is just my stage of life. Whether I'm at home or in a church building, I'm probably picking up crumbs or holding a child. I love the fellowship of gathering with other believers on Sunday morning and I am happy for Beau and Palmer to join along.
Palmer started cooing about 10 minutes into the sermon today. He was not crying. He was not fussing. He was simply cooing like any 6 month old might do. We were sitting in the back row, so that we would not cause any distraction. But since there had been a whole "speech" about young children in church, Raleigh quickly walked him out. Again, hear me saying that I would be the first to walk my child out if he was whining or crying or being any type of distraction to those around. But I really don't think he was.
I believe there is a place for young children in church. There is absolutely nothing wrong with Sunday school or church nursery. In fact, those are both very good things. I loved when my mom taught Sunday school. Raleigh's mom writes amazing children's curriculum and I know that the children exposed to her lessons are blessed to know more about Jesus. I plan to send Palmer to church nursery at some point soon and would absolutely love it if Beau feels comfortable going to Sunday school one day. I would happily teach Beau's Sunday school class and would love it!
But is there no longer a place for children to sit with their parents during church if for some reason a family makes that choice?
At the end of the service, there was a wonderful vignette on a member of the church family who had recently returned home with their newly adopted son. It was a story of God's ability to redeem a tragedy. But as a church, those who have a relationship with Jesus, we can't with one side of our mouths praise the redemptive parts of adoption, but not acknowledge the messy parts too. I have no doubt that one of the reasons that Beau does not like being "checked in" and "dropped off" at children's church is because three times in his life he was dropped off by his caregiver, and she never came back. There are messy parts of adoption. God is good and makes beauty out of ashes, but in a perfect world, Beau would live with his birth mother in his birth culture with his birth siblings.
If a church wants to share the amazing adoption testimonies of families welcoming children home, (which is obviously amazing and something I am passionate about) let's also welcome those children into the church pews on Sunday morning. The healing doesn't stop when a child enters a new home and a new family. In fact, that is just the beginning.
I really do know that Jesus was present at both church services the last two weeks. I have no doubt that God was glorified and people grew in their walks with Christ. Both churches are good churches doing kingdom things.
But while we are still visiting churches, Beau and Palmer will probably be sitting with us. We may bring with us some coos and some crumbs, but I know God can use that time to plant seeds in their little hearts. Seeds that will continue to be watered and grow. I pray that both Palmer and Beau will have Godly Sunday school teachers and youth leaders one day that will pour Jesus into them. Until then, they are learning by watching our example.
And just as a side note: The mother's room and children's area at today's church looked amazing. The mother's room had couches, chairs, brand new baby swings, a jumpy, bumbo seats, a changing area, etc. The children's area was a huge room separated into classes by tents. Each class met in a tent. I mean, I can imagine most little boys absolutely love that! How fun to go to Sunday school in a tent! Maybe one day that will be just the right fit for Beau and Palmer :)
Friday, October 18, 2013
The Red Thread continues
Beau's precious foster family is now caring for another little boy. I wrote about the "red thread" here. Korea now requires two trips for adoptive families and the boy's parents recently traveled for their first trip. They live a state away from us and they graciously took a small care package that we put together for Beau's foster family.
Ok...Stay with me while I give a little backstory.... in July 2012 there was a zulily sale for large canvas prints. An adoptive mom friend, Nan, spear-headed an effort to have canvases made for the adoption agency. The agency had recently changed offices, so it was a wonderful way to add meaningful art to the walls. We participated in the effort, and now there is a black and white canvas print of Beau at the agency in Korea! Thanks Nan!
The photo we had made into a canvas is this one.....
It is a picture Brandon took of Beau coming down our slide in the backyard.
Now, to the red thread. I've loved reading the blog of the family who is in the process of bringing their son home. It has been neat to read fun little details about the foster family. I reached out to the dad, via the comment section on his blog, and just told him how much I appreciate them sharing their journey through their blog. He wrote back and shared a precious story that we will cherish forever.
The note below is from the adoptive dad who recently met his son and the foster family. The note references the canvas print of Beau...
Now, to the red thread. I've loved reading the blog of the family who is in the process of bringing their son home. It has been neat to read fun little details about the foster family. I reached out to the dad, via the comment section on his blog, and just told him how much I appreciate them sharing their journey through their blog. He wrote back and shared a precious story that we will cherish forever.
The note below is from the adoptive dad who recently met his son and the foster family. The note references the canvas print of Beau...
"You would be happy to know that the foster father took your son's picture down at the agency and brought it into the room we were all sitting in. He was giddy showing us the picture. He had so much pride in his smile when he pointed to your son's picture, then pointed to my son, then to his heart. They are truly amazing and wonderful people.
I thought it was very cool that the mother got DJ to ask us if we were Christ followers. It made me happy to know that this was important to her."
I thought it was very cool that the mother got DJ to ask us if we were Christ followers. It made me happy to know that this was important to her."
Isn't that neat?? They also said that the foster family sent us a letter, but we don't have it yet. Can't wait to read it!
To God be all the glory for giving us this little glimpse into the heart of the foster family. They loved Beau so well while he was in their care and I have no doubt that they still love him!
