Scribbles, Scrambles and Scrambling

I love my kids. 

Really adore them. All three of them have grown into some pretty amazing adults that I consider favorites to hang out with.  

The past few weeks have been challenging for each of them. We are a little over a year from when our adopting mama daughter got Little Sister in a sudden turn of events. Little One spent all winter and most of the spring with our family and it was such a blessing. She is so missed by all of us. And yet we walk the line of hoping bio mom stays sober and can be a mommy to her and still praying that if bio mom can't that Little One would come back to her Heart Mama and our family. Her picture filled our 2016 calendar and we know that a year after those photos were taken so much has changed. She will have so much more hair, and so much more of life has touched her and shaped her. It was hard to take that calendar off the wall. In a grand show of grace a baby boy has joined the family. This one is a fragile hope. My heart is clutched in his tiny hand. As are all of the hearts. How can a baby with the fist the size of a Nilla Wafer hold so many hearts? My prayer is that he stays and never has an overnight visit. My heart knows that this is a state that is a reunification state. And that he may go the path of Little One. Right now I will love him, snuggle him, pour into him and pray for him and trust that God watches over him regardless of where he will be. 

Our son and daughter-in-law have said yes to foster care and have brought a little sibling group into their home. These two little ones are instant members and full-on love grandchildren. They are a joy. And a source of ache because they, too, are in a reunification situation. Oh, Lord, sometimes loving hurts so much. 

Our youngest daughter had a life quake shake her world. She and our little roly-poly baby boy moved in in November. Not sure how long it will be but we had been making room for our other babies. The nest was ready. It doesn't look good for full healing and restoration, not the way things are going right now. There is prayer, and hope, but there are also human choices and some of them just suck. I'm so proud of her for thinking first about her baby boy, and secondly about the mercy and grace that need to be extended in order for her to feel able to look herself in the eye in the mirror and know she has been above board. She is being gracious and kind in a situation where no one would blame her for choosing ugly revengeful game play. 

So right now we just pull in, wrap our arms around these precious ones and hold tight in the storms. And we remember that we have Christ and He can fill us so full of His love that we can and do overflow with it. What does that love look like? Oh, it's a beautiful thing. It makes people want to risk heart ache for the sake of others. It causes folks to stand up for orphans and the lost. It looks broken souls in the eye and says "You are precious, and valuable and forgiveable." 

1 Corinthians 13Amplified Bible (AMP)

The Excellence of Love

13 If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not [a]love [for others growing out of God’s love for me], then I have become only a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal [just an annoying distraction]. 2 And if I have the gift of prophecy [and speak a new message from God to the people], and understand all mysteries, and [possess] all knowledge; and if I have all [sufficient] faith so that I can remove mountains, but do not have love [reaching out to others], I am nothing. 3 If I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body [b]to be burned, but do not have love, it does me no good at all.

4 Love endures with patience and serenity, love is kind and thoughtful, and is not jealous or envious; love does not brag and is not proud or arrogant. 5 It is not rude; it is not self-seeking, it is not provoked [nor overly sensitive and easily angered]; it does not take into account a wrong endured. 6 It does not rejoice at injustice, but rejoices with the truth [when right and truth prevail]. 7 Love bears all things [regardless of what comes], believes all things [looking for the best in each one], hopes all things [remaining steadfast during difficult times], endures all things [without weakening].

8 Love never fails [it never fades nor ends]. But as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for the gift of special knowledge, it will pass away. 9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part [for our knowledge is fragmentary and incomplete]. 10 But when that which is complete and perfect comes, that which is incomplete and partial will pass away. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things. 12 For now [in this time of imperfection] we see in a mirror dimly [a blurred reflection, a riddle, an enigma], but then [when the time of perfection comes we will see reality] face to face. Now I know in part [just in fragments], but then I will know fully, just as I have been fully known [by God].13 And now there remain: faith [abiding trust in God and His promises], hope [confident expectation of eternal salvation], love [unselfish love for others growing out of God’s love for me], these three [the choicest graces]; but the greatest of these is love.

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Blink. It's 2017.

Well. I guess 2017 has happened. Weird. How time just keeps ticking.

This is the first year in about 8,-9-10 somewhere in that range, where we either didn't have our friendfamily staying at our place or we were up north visiting them. Our weekend was made up of a lot of "should we do this or that?" and snuggling babies. There was a lot of baby snuggling.  I'm thinking baby snuggling might be the best way to bring in the new year. Maybe a grandma came up with the concept of old year = old man, new year = spanking new baby.

No resolutions this year. As much as I like the idea of resolutions I have been there, done that and seen very little overall change. I do better when I thoughtfully just chose to change and go a different direction and reassess my priorities rather than have a magic day when things begin. I read an article I thought was fascinating. Compounding choices like compounding interest i.e.1%. Choose to focus on/tweak something you are seeking 1% more today than yesterday. If the goal is health, then add just a bit more onto an already healthy choice you are making or decrease slightly an unhealthy choice. Spiritual growth or disciplines, add 1% more Bible or prayer, or 1% less selfishness etc. a day. Financial, spend a few pennies less or put a few more pennies in savings. 

I like that idea. Incremental tiny choices toward a picture we have of what we'd like our lives to become. 

Here is a brilliant C S Lewis quote about choices.

“Every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different than it was before. And taking your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing into a heavenly creature or a hellish creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow creatures, and with itself. To be the one kind of creature is heaven: that is, it is joy and peace and knowledge and power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state of the other.”

― C.S. Lewis

We are the sum of our choices. I think no matter what has happened to us, our unique experiences both good and bad we are made up of how we process and handle those experiences. (I don't know about you but I am still processing things that happened in my life decades ago. Reframing, prayerfully forgiving, tiny attitude adjustments to line up more with God's Word.) As we age and change and grow and get wiser then we have more responsibility in making those changes in the way we think and process. And we are hurrying the process along to becoming a heavenly or hellish creature. Kind of brutal this truth. 

Serials and Scenarios ~ Hopeless? Think Again

Here is the last 2016 Out of the Frying Pan blog tour post. My whole testimony of God's grace. Well, the big stuff anyway. 

https://jenniferslatterylivesoutloud.com/2016/12/22/a-mountain-of-hope/

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ The Sun Will Be Out Tomorrow....

Kiddos practicing contortionist skills like Sophie from AGT

Facebook is many things.

It is something to scroll through to keep up on the doings and comings and goings of acquaintances, friends, family and wannabes in any of those categories.

Home of dog, cat and hedgehog ridiculousness. Oh, pigs, let's not forget the pigs!

Facebook is a tool for communicating an event or a bit of news in your life. As a new novelist it's invaluable for getting news out to my people regarding what's going on with my book and it gives them a chance to join in my celebration. Just like it gives me the opportunity to see the joys and accomplishments in others lives and a chance to celebrate them.

Not all my favorite people are there on Facebook. Some are. Many others are random and sporadic or not at all. But Facebook allows me to see a slice of life for loads of people I care about. 

It is a unique place though. I've noticed that I have relationships there that are kind of hovering on simmer when they would otherwise have faded off into the distance. I think of my friend Cory, a girl I grew up with. My cousin and cousin-in-law Julie (both of them, how convenient) who cross my path on Facebook far more than in person. But I can "like" things that are going on in their lives. Share a bit now and again and feel a connection with them.

Friends from different seasons are there, too. I don't see Bonni and Sandy, Peggy and Sue every day anymore like I did when we worked together. Friends whom I've laughed and cried with over the years like Jody and Erin, I rarely see them. But I can see what they've been up to with the click of a finger.

Leslie holds a piece of my heart, Tiffany and Sarah, too. Young moms in a whole different season, two in different states. It warms my heart to see pictures of them with their little kiddos and read comments about things going on in their lives.

Writing friends are busy friends and sometimes so much to do equals no connection at all. But if I'm wondering what's going on in Gina or Ane's world, I can scroll their Facebook.

New friends, too. My path just crossed with those of some great folks in Minnesota. Because of Facebook we can keep in touch and our paths will likely cross again sometime when I'm there.

I can laugh with people, pray for people, grieve with people in spirit on Facebook. I can even share heart felt thoughts and know that most of the people who read them are going to understand.

But there is a dark side to Facebook, too. The anonymity of it. The quickness of communication without the benefit of tone of voice or non-verbal language. Some choose to use Facebook as a bully pulpit. Or as a monologue. Some feel the need to correct or condemn others with posts or comments. Some choose to fight to be right rather than to bite the tongue out of love for the other person. Wise Thumper's mother said that if one can't say something nice, one should say nothing at all. My mom quoted that often. I'd like it to say kind. Kindness is better than nice. Nice can be faked. Nice can be drenched in passive aggressive sugar. Kindness comes from the heart. 

Friends, acquaintances, loved ones, ones I know hardly at all but like none-the-less, strangers who post hilarious pet videos that make my life so much more fun, please, please, please don't let something as huge as Tuesday's events destroy people's hearts, minds, peace. I scrolled through for twenty minutes  on Wednesday and my heart aches. 

This too shall pass. It does every four or eight years. Changes will happen. But one person cannot destroy the entire world. And they literally have no power to destroy your hope, your attitude or your peace. Unless you chose to give them the power to do so.

You voted out of your passion and convictions. So did I. I hope we all did. What's done is done. 

Carelessly, or angrily tossed words can't be taken back. If you need to heal, Facebook might be a place to avoid for awhile. I'm cautiously going to continue on in my use of Facebook as something that enhances my life. If grace is needed. I will give it. If something is yucky I am going to ignore it because I will assume the person spewing the ugly is processing and working out their struggles via social media. 

The headlines will be replaced with other issues and tragedies. But there will be more cute pet videos and sweet pictures of mamas and babies. Someone will win Dancing with the Stars and The Voice. Good will still be done. The sun will be out tomorrow, behind the clouds possibly, but there. 

Life will go on.

I love you, Friends. Warts and pimples and wrinkles and all, and I hope you can see past mine, too. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Too Many, Too Much...

I'm counting my blessings. If you need help identifying yours here's a few suggestions.

The little people in your life.

The older, wiser people you respect.

Fur babies who look to you for all their care and need-meeting.  And respond by licking your hand, staring at you while you sleep, leaping with joy at the door, or ignoring you.


Health. Or life. Or even just that next breath.

Family, or friends who have become your family.

Warmth. Whether its a roof over your head, a used parka, or in a smile.

Money in any form to meet your expenses.

The Thanksgiving meal whether it's turkey or not, whether it's in your home or someone else's, even if it's in a hospital spent with someone who cares, or alone knowing that God loves you.

The point is to remember how very much we have. And ultimately to remember that God is an intimate God Who loves us and wants a relationship with us. 

I hope your Thanksgiving is filled with too many blessings to count. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Tipping Toes

You know I subscribe to the blog Becoming Minimalist.  Right now, it's kind of a what if for me. What if I did make some significant changes? Do I want to? Is the outcome greater than what I'm giving up? Am I willing to change the way I think? And am I willing to become a different person if I take Road B rather than stay on Road A? I love the idea of being a minimalist. After all, I've purged a couple thousand things in less than a year and I love the feeling of owning less, moving less, dusting less, laundering less. And I continue down that path. But I'm not going to kid myself and say I'm a minimalist. I own way too much creature comfort to make that claim. 

However, I read an article at Becoming Minimalist about Tipping Points. The author talked about the vastness of society. He has a huge readership yet his readership is a tiny single digit percentage of society. A mere spit in the wind of doctrines and teachings and thoughts. He cited Malcom Gladwell's The Tipping Point which summarized says small things do make a big difference. Joshua Becker (Becoming Minimalist) wonders if his focus needs to be on a smaller scale...his circle of influence...the people who know and interact with him. And when circles begin overlapping -- maybe the small things, the one person at a time making one or two decisions that change their lives and help others to see that they can too, maybe -- that becomes a world changer. 

I can't help but resonate with this thinking. Because that is kind of the bottom line. We are all shaped by thoughts and opinions and desires of others when we are young, and then we are tested in the school of the BIG POND of life and are forced to sort and grasp and purge those thoughts, feelings and opinions and use those and the tools we find in the pond to become who we choose to become. Because we do have a choice. Most of us. Even if we've been oppressed, victimized, hurt, abused, belittled, discarded, unloved...we have a choice to not let that conquer us or destroy us. We have a choice to get off the out-of-control-Ferris-Wheel-of-dysfunction even if it's going to hurt when we hit the concrete. 

When we get patched up, we become sharers of what we know to be true. We can give testimony, personal experience, hard-won wisdom gained, and we can share it with others on our way. Think of the people you know who have made huge life changes. The alcoholic who stops drinking and can spot someone else who is struggling and offers hope to that person. Or the person who experiences a miraculous healing. That story just bubbles out from a place of gratitude. Leaving behind a glimmering wave of hope for those who have possibly given up on their own miracle. The liar who has been forgiven who refuses to ever lie again becomes an expert on the benefit of trust and speaking truth. The woman who bitterly hated someone for years and finally forgave changes outwardly, her whole countenance softens and does that ever have an impact on her circles. Jesus said that one who is forgiven much, loves much. And He also blasted the religious teachers for loading people down with burdensome laws to follow to the letter. When we experience something (sometimes tiny) that changes us, we can't help but radiate that change. And those tiny personal choices do shape our world. One tiny step at a time. 

Will I ever become a minimalist? Will I ever become totally healthy? Will I make a positive difference in the lives of people around me? I don't know if the answers to those questions are important. To continue towards those goals, to strive to choose life, health, wellness, kindness, hope, love and joy, self-respect, forgiveness ....I'm pretty sure those things are right answers to any question. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ A Day in the Life

Life has been a little busy lately. I feel like I've been processing all of life's wonders and beauty and a little bit of sorrow while zipping here and there.                Do you remember sections of each year where things just stopped for awhile? I do. It seemed like after Christmas, after school got going, even after school ended for the year that I was able to take a breather and get done some of the things I needed and wanted to. Somewhere that changed. I feel sometimes energized when doing and being. But other times it's a drain of the essence of my life. So while I feel busy I'm trying to be busy doing the life enriching things, not the life sucking. 

The collage pictures are not at all representative of this...and at the same time are. My grand babes love taking pictures and videos with my phone, and scrolling through them and asking questions, watching, laughing and talking. Little Guy 6 took my phone the other day and was busy snapping for 20 minutes. After he left I scrolled through the photo gallery. Fascinating. The little buggar kind of has an arty eye. Most of his pictures were of items and things.  He played with angles (Ha, ha, I think he probably was experimenting with standing on his head, and spinning on it for a couple of shots. ) Yes. My orchids are still alive. Six weeks and counting. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ A Journey

You know my daughter is a foster parent. She wrote an article about it for my cousin's blog. I thought I'd link to it so you could see her heart, and get a glimpse of the miracle of opening a heart to little ones. 

http://theinnovativemama.com/2015/04/27/a-glimpse-into-the-world-of-foster-parenting/

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ You Know What They Say About Spring...

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Mercy Ministries

I've spent the past several months pondering what God is calling me to do to help in this world that needs so, so much help. 

I sometimes cringe when calling myself a Christian because I know what the world's perception is of Christians, especially in the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave. Christians are hypocrites, narrow-slit-eyed judges just waiting to point out sins to the sinners. 

Honestly, many people who label themselves Christian have no clue what that even means. Jesus didn't die for my sins and conquer death and sin itself on my behalf so I could go on living a selfish, broken life. He died and rose again so His followers would become like Him, willing to die, willing to follow Him until we look like Him. Looking like Him includes loving people He created. No matter how much they have rejected Him. He loves them. 

One of my struggles is the immensity of the sea of need. Hurting people are dying for a glimpse of the real Jesus rather than the one so well painted by the hypocrites or posers. What direction do I go, what am I supposed to do, what is my designed role for helping people find their way to Jesus? 

My heart burns to help people really be set free from bondage. There are so many who live in prisons that have been erected by others and sometimes themselves. There is an enemy out there who doesn't care what prison we live in. He just wants to see us in the dank, dark, hopeless cells of death. He has lots of ways to lure us and capture us and so many start when we are children. 

Being a support to my  daughter while she is on the frontline of the battlefield taking hits for her little foster babies is not enough. Even loving those children as my own grandchildren feels like not enough. An author friend is involved in a homeless ministry in the metro area and has asked me to write a couple stories of local people who've spent time on the streets for an upcoming book. Ideally this book will hopefully sell and help support the ministry. I met with Jessica and wrote her story. Even though my part is finished, Jessica's tale is far from complete. And my heart breaks for her knowing that she will be struggling with some of her issues for a long time. But that's not enough, either, voluntarily listening to someone's story and writing it out. 

On Sunday I went to an event to raise money, and eventually bring, Mercy Ministries to our area. I hadn't heard of Mercy Ministries until I saw the promo for the event. This is an organization that is privately funded (no state or federal aid), free for young women who want to escape from a hellish landscape, and a ministry that pledges to be debt free and tithe to other ministries. 

Young women, ages 13-28 are accepted into homes at several locations around the world. They are given love, and Jesus and their lives are changed. Several women told their stories. From eating disorders and self harm, to planned suicides if this didn't work for them, to horrific childhood trauma. 

There are people who are being Christ to those who need Him. And I want to support them, which might be a very large part of my current path. So I'll keep on tuning my ears to God's heart and turning my eyes to those I can see. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Love

I haven't spoken much about my foster grandchildren on the dregs. Part of me has wanted to respect & and the kids' privacy. But part of me has held back because this isn't my story to tell. 

But, while I've been interacting and helping and participating something has happened. I've been living a story. I've given my heart fully away to these little ones. They are no longer foster grandchildren, they are my grandkids. Period. 

Which leads me to some interesting observations. 

1) I'm risking my heart. I'm going to get hurt. The tables could turn, the kids could end up being placed somewhere else. The kids could stay with our family and one or more could chose a heart crushing path. Their time in my life could be just months or years. I have no control. 

2) Even though I risk pain and sorrow by loving them, I'm going to do just that. No matter what. Because my life would be less had I never had the 3 year old button champion search my shirt for buttons to practice with. Or the look of triumph on her face when she met her goal of being green at preschool. (Long story. Green is good.) Or the 6 year old's smile when he lost his first tooth. Or the hugs and kisses, or his mermish. Or the 7 year old's smile when she gets to just be a child and play, or help me make treats to take to church, or to hear the confidence in her voice as she grows into a stronger reader. Giving my heart is a bargain when I consider what I gain. The soft, tiny hands in mine. Joyful rediscovery of the old and mundane. Answering questions that force me to think first and work on the answer that will make sense. Laughter. Tenderness. Small bundles cuddling with puppies or stuffed animals, or curled up on my lap. 

While I cuddle with my puppies who are so loved and spoiled I can't help but think that just until a few months ago, my grand babies weren't even treated as well as my dogs. And that stinks. Because every child in this world should have at least one human being who adores him or her. If it costs me my whole heart to be one of those people to these little humans, then it is a bargain indeed. 

3) These very stark truths about love pretty much are the definition of love, aren't they?  Kind of like tying my heart to a string and letting it float out of my reach. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Wisdom from the Hundred Acre Wood...

 And it that isn't enough to get you through the week, I do know someone who is bigger than all that, bigger than even Christopher Robin. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Hump Day Mind Dump

Do you ever struggle with this question? Can one person really make a difference? It's a good question. In the scheme of things it doesn't seem like it would be possible for one person to make a significant impact. When the entire population of earth is billions? Even something significant isn't going to make a ripple that will be felt around the world, right? And with limited resources doing good can be overwhelming. Like seeing an ocean of need and you possess a mere teacup of supply. (My mom)

Then there's the possibility of having to dig out of a hole first, when you've made some poor choices and you now face the mountain of consequence.

But, the experts, the powers that be, or the anonymous (someday I'm going to meet them.) say that the first step in getting out of debt is to stop spending and the first step toward breaking an addiction is to admit your problem. And that the car you drive now is your cheapest car. That the sun will come out tomorrow. etc.

Case in point. A friend just admitted he's a hoarder. And boy, having a conversation with him after that revelation didn't feel like he was on top of the world. Nope. The work has just begun. And the whole issue came up when I was sharing my 1000 thing purge with him and his wife. For weeks now they've been discussing his problem. She went so far as telling him the description of how he feels when told he has to get rid of something is exactly how she feels when she walks into a room and is assaulted by his piles of treasures. This poor guy has great intentions and strong motivation to change but this is going to be costly for him. However, the compulsion of hoarding was taking a different kind of toll. Outing himself is really a huge step toward freedom.

Oddly, this thought process came out of something entirely different. A rant. A completely different schtick. Not sure how my brain shifted. But there we have it. Steep on this. The Hump Day Mind Dump. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Scribbling

Sunday's sermon included a simplistic explanation for a very frustrating scenario. The scenario? The attempt to live a Christian life. I say attempt because I mean that so many of us (I've got more fingers pointed at myself) just try to live better, do better, be better. A truly authentic Christian life isn't going to have much of me in it. My attempts at living that life are me. Me trying, me doing, me fixing, me. Me. Me. 

In case you are wondering this book is in my shopping cart.  Not sure how it has not entered my radar field it was printed in 2003. My pastor's copy is well used. 

Little Miss 3 year old's idea of beauty. 

"Most of my life I heard the message loud and clear that Christianity was all about coloring within the lines and coloring well. If I was a good Christian, if I loved Jesus and wanted to please Him, if I read my Bible, prayed, and went to church, then I would get better and better at coloring. And if I lived a long and godly life, I would eventually be able to draw close to the perfect drawing. "

"Christianity is not about learning how to live within the lines. Christianity is about the joy of coloring. The grace of God is preposterous enough to accept as beautiful a coloring that anyone else would reject as ugly. The grace of God sees beyond the scribbling to the heart of the scribbler." Mike Yaconelli - Dangerous Wonder

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ That's Why it's so Satisfying to Read a Good Book...

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Beautiful

 It was a beautiful weekend in Iowa.

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Pickle Dots and Skewishness...

Perception is as unique as fingerprints. And as convoluted as a blown up picture of the whirls and swirls of an thumb.

I had an amusing conversation with a 90 year old patient yesterday. She was a real sweetie with quite the attitude. She shared that she has a family member a few years older who has never been hospitalized a day in her life. But one doesn't ask how she is because that opens a flood gate of complaints. Even though she is alive well into her 90's and basically as healthy as it gets she is a miserable little thing. Had my patient known about Sweet Brown she might have said "ain't nobody got time for that!"

My patient then shared a little about her own skewed perception. She has failing vision and in certain lighting really has trouble. She was given a sandwich, chips and pickle slices one day for lunch. She had almost cleared her plate but for one stubborn pickle that just wouldn't cooperate. She leaned over and asked to use her grandson's fork as hers just wasn't cutting it. 

He looked at her. "Can I help?"

"No! I just need a better fork for this pickle. Besides what can you do that I can't?"

"Well, Grandma, I can see that the stubborn pickle is actually a decorative green polka dot on the plate." 

We both had a nice long laugh over that. 

After she left I got to thinking about my own perception. How many times do I miss the forest for the trees? Or complain about the minutia when I've been given so much?  Or chase green polka dots hoping that they'll feed a need? 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Circumstantial

I had nothing to say Wednesday when I was supposed to get a post ready to go and queued up for bright and early posting on Thursday. 

I had plenty swirling around in my head. Thoughts about the frailty of life and the fragility of bodies. I was also struggling with the depravity of humanity. 

I suppose these things were on my mind because of circumstances. Circumstances... the things that happen that make us stop and ponder and sometimes reassess. The unexpected deaths of loved ones of friends and the celebration of one month with sweet little foster grandchildren.  And having them share some of their stories. Heartbreaking. 

I love the days when I can move forward and embrace life and profess I know God is good. Other times, I am faced with the choice to BELIEVE that God is good. In spite of evidence that others have used since Eve's first taste of forbidden fruit, that far too often His rulership of the world looks nothing like mine would.

If I ran the world rights and freedom would go to those who value them, not abuse them. In my world the evil would live short and insignificant lives and the good-hearted would live long and do far reaching good all their years. The world I'd create would be full of loved and cared for innocents. And each of those precious ones would go, every night, to to a comfortable, safe bed with satisfied tummies and maybe a favorite story dancing through their thoughts or at least dreams of sugar plums or puppy treats. 

Therein lies my struggle.  Will I believe God is smarter than me? Better at knowing the outcomes of struggles? Is the sometimes hideousness of this world an opportunity to show how much He has to offer those who are willing to believe His story?

I know I cannot manage my own life, I have tried. And failed. What I think I need is often full of sorrow or remorse and what I would never choose for myself has radically changed my life for the better. 

So, in spite of circumstances that sometimes make me so burdened I feel 20 years older, I will choose to believe that God knows what He's doing. That He is in the process of restoring, healing, saving and redeeming. I have enough proof. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Distortional

What I got from Bible Study last night... 

Our world is like a fun house. 

Distorted mirrors displaying not who we are, but the broken images that have been scratched, spindled and mutilated by the enemy of our souls. 

Christ came to bring us back to our perfect and uniquely wonderful, handcrafted selves. 

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Taking Care of the Things on God's Heart

Yesterday was the celebration of Father's Day. And other than saying that I've been blessed with a great father and a great husband, I don't want to talk about fathers at all. 

I want to talk about foster care. 

I can't share much with the world other than to say my daughter has been certified to do foster care. 

I have had the privilege of observing her, and interacting with her little visitors for the last two weeks. 

I am not going to judge the situation that landed these children in her care as I don't have facts, and there, but for the grace of God, go I. Honestly, I can't imagine there is a single person on the planet who would enter into the daunting world of parenting with the plan that their child(ren) will enter the foster care system someday.  The pain felt by every person involved in the breakdown of a family has got to be tremendous. 

That said, I have to share a little bit of my experience with this huge thing in my daughter's life. For starters, all of the people who have had a chance to cross paths with my daughter and her little ones will experience life and love being played out. The grace I've seen, the heart expanding to embrace every bit of the experience, the unconditional love... I tell you, it's amazing to see your child grow into a woman of integrity and beauty and grace. Then the children. I have become a foster grandmother to little ones who may or may not be part of my life for much more than a few weeks. Honestly, my heart is going to break a little or a lot (it will get harder each day) when they return where they belong and leave my life. Every conversation, every hug, every smile and kiss that these sweet kids are sharing with me is precious. I can't help but love them and I can't help but pray for them. My hope is that through this transition time that their parents are doing everything they are capable of doing to become the kind of parents that nurture and heal. If not, I'm praying that this brief period of time will show these children how precious they are so that when they make choices they choose life. 

I can't imagine how much more powerful this must all be for my daughter. After all my involvement is minimal. I didn't sit through forty hours of training and homework. I haven't had home visits or phone calls where I had minutes to determine if my house was a proper fit for a child or children. I didn't have to listen to and read about case studies of real situations and go home and process reality for some children. 

I don't have to tuck children into bed and see them first thing in the morning. I haven't had to show patience and compassion when they are processing through negative emotions. I haven't had to comfort a crying child who misses a parent. 

God's heart is toward the women and children who have no husband or father. He has asked us to care, too. 

I encourage you to join me in saying thanks to foster parents who step out in faith and hope that they can make a difference in a child's life. Pray for children, pray for families, pray for the caretakers who are willing to love these kids.  Pray that they will indeed make a difference in each life they touch.