straight from the pk's mouths

a response to my last post.

me to kids: what can we do to raise some money for adoption?

raelyn: we can start a business. too bad you didn't go to school to cut hair like mrs. abbott.

baylee: we can go to the money shop. you know, the place where you buy more money.

riley:  i think our best bet would be to gamble. that's the only way to make that much money. (i swear i have never taken him to chuck-e-cheese, mom!)

landon: we could make more allowance. or we could pray.

glad we taught 'em well.

an Israelite

we just had the most. awesome. week. last week. 

our dear friends, elizabeth, and the pulver family, drove almost 24 hours to come see us, and it was as much as a vacation for our family as it was for them, even though we stayed close to home.

eli's heart was full. rock climbing. talking about what he's been learning. the hopes and dreams God has put in his heart for the future.

the kid's hearts were full. skipping school to jump on the trampoline with their buddies. hiking with their buddies. roller skating with their buddies. skate boarding with their buddies. playing Wii with almost no restrictions with their buddies. and eating easter candy until they were almost sick with their buddies.

my heart was full. eating out at all the yummy places suburbia supplies. staying up late to play games and talk. introducing newer friends to old friends. spending easter with my buddies. living life beside people i love to live life beside. sharing our dream of our adoption.

last week, my heart sang words that echoed moses and the isrealites as they exited egypt. exodus 15: 17-18, "you brought them and planted them on the mountain of your heritage, the place where you live, the place you made, your sanctuary, master, that you established with your own hands. let GOD rule forever, for eternity!"

today i am again an isrealite.

as our first payment for our adoption looms over us, i find myself asking like the isrealites in numbers 20:4-5 "why did you haul this congregation of God out here into this wilderness to die, people and cattle alike? and why did you take us out of egypt in the first place, dragging us into this miserable country?" 

i tried to muster up some faith as eli and i prayed together last night. i tried to remember god's faithfulness to us with every financial difficulty we've ever encountered. 

but i still felt discouraged. like the timing is all wrong. like i should wait until we've saved up some money. like i needed to DO something more. i gathered up toys to sell on ksl. i started the process of becoming an ambassador for a company that helps people make money off of others generosity (and really cute stuff). all the while hating myself for doing it. then the guilt trip began. i shouldn't have eaten out last week. i shouldn't have taken my daughter on a date and bought her new summer clothes. i shouldn't have signed ALL the kids up for soccer. 

how can i go through the easter holiday, basking in the fact that HE ROSE FROM THE DEAD, the miracle of all miracles, and yet not believe that he will help us find the money to adopt two desperately needy children that he desperately loves? in my mother's words, "i-yie-yie, lindsay."

head and heart please meet. 

Fear

So.

I can hear the crickets chirping, and not in an artsy, good way. In an awkward way with me introducing myself. My name is Raelle and I blog over at tons of beautiful. I'm a stay at home mom to two little ones, but they're actually really big. I love to write about our daily life and I drive around with a family size bag of twizzlers in the pocket of my car door.

That's me.

From the minute Lindsay asked me to write on her blog, I got writers block. I was wracking my brain trying to think of something fun, to draw people in, like brain candy. I had nothing. 

Then, the opposite happened, my writers block left and I thought about putting everything and anything on this little guest post. Thankfully, my impulses are controlled.

Fear.

It's actually the last thing on earth that I want to write about. The last. I promise. It's assumed that fear has no place in a Christian's life. That God has reign and rule and fear is squashed. That's what I believe, but that's not what I always live.

It's been something on my mind a lot lately, so I tried to engage my kids.

 I asked my four year old daughter, Eden, what she was afraid of. She said "a man with a white shirt and black and white striped pants". Hmmmm, or should I say Arggghhh :)

 Then I asked my little two year old boy Micah, what he was afraid of. He said the "tooth song". It's on the latest Veggie Tales movie, and it's quite funny. But he does break out into an open wail when he sees it.
I've told myself for so long that I'm not afraid. But I am.
There's so many things, that I'm embarrassed.
I'm afraid of pregnancy, getting too close in relationships, something happening to my kids, my husbands commute, failure in so many areas, to name a few. I know that at the feet of Jesus is the only place where these things belong. That's their only place in this life.
A song that I love so much is Redemption Rain by Jonathan David Helser and Melissa Helser. It talks about how when we take down the walls that we've put up there's so much room; room for greater faith, greater love.
Fear is a wall I've put up. No one would know it though. It's in a little secret compartment in my brain that only  I know about. When I'm quiet and still, sometimes I go there, and I'm haunted, and so incredibly afraid. I know it's wrong, and it seems like some sort of secret sin.
It's no different than any other sin others commit.
Psalm 118:6 says, "The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid."
It's true.

I've laid it at the feet of Jesus.

And tomorrow I'll lay it down again

And the next day and the next.

I don't need the wall of fear in my life.

I need room for greater love and greater faith.

Death and Jesus Meet

There wan't ONE recorded person alive that ACTUALLY BELIEVED that Jesus would be raised back to life. NOT ONE. Not the contemporary prophets, not the people of great faith, not his closest friends, not his most loyal followers, not one.

Anyone?

I suspect that many with Him had a GREAT FAITH and a HOPE that a miracle would occur during the Passover, and the prayer time in the garden, and the trial, and the beatings, and the long walk to the place of the skulls, and the even in the final moments as the man hung on the cross...there must have been those present that KNEW...just knew that something would happen.

But nothing did. NOTHING.

Hope died and the dreamers lost their dreams.

A son, a friend, a new beginning became an end.

Death won. Lights blinked out. The creation lost its creator. Ugly. Small. Alone.

Days turned to tears and the dreamers finally crept home.

Nobody believed. NOT ONE. Not a child. Not a centurion. Not a disciple. A prophet. Not one.

Where were the angels? Where was the back up? The power turned off and everyone went back to their houses. OVER. Done.

A day goes by, then another, then another...Where do we go now? Back to our families? Back to the tax booth, the fishing boats, and the churches? Back to work? What is there to return to after this?

JESUS opened his eyes. He stood and stretched his arms. He looked at the scars that remained and remembered the war.

JESUS SPEAKS. Oh, Death, where is your sting?

DEATH REPLIES. I'm sorry, this has never happened before. You've broken the system. How are we supposed to figure any of this out? How are we supposed to continue?

JESUS SMILES BACK. That's right, everything's changed. Easter.

DEATH SAYS. Maybe we should keep this quiet. Just between you and me.

BUT...DEATH IS TALKING TO AN EMPTY ROOM...JESUS HAS ALREADY WALKED OUT. 

EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED.

Death swallowed by triumphant Life!

Who got the last word, oh, Death?

Oh, Death, who's afraid of you now?

It was sin that made death so frightening and law-code guilt that gave sin it's leverage, its destructive power. But now in a single victorious stroke of life, all three--sin, guilt, death--are gone, the gift of our Master, Jesus Christ. 

Thank God!

written by Eli Shackelford

An Easter Haiku

love

by lindsay

palm. praise. sing. loud. shout.

hosanna. sing. hosanna.

crowds. cheer. sing. honor.

despair. dying. pain.

sin. shame. hate. nails. wood. thorns. tears.

breath. death. gone. lost. waste.

tomb. clothes. angel. stone.

empty. wonder. elation.

found. king. hope. live. alive. love.

Leap

Remember the first time you took a pregnancy test and it was positive?
Remember how you kept checking it to make sure it wasn't your imagination, then went out and bought another one just to be sure?
Remember how you waited to call your mom, your sister, your best friend, so you could tell your husband the news first?
Remember how you searched online to find the most creative way possible to tell him about that little blue plus sign?
Remember how you could hardly sleep that night as visions of your future child filled your head?

So it begins.

Today we were accepted in the America World Adoption program for Ethiopia.

Does My Microwave Leak Microwaves?

My struggle this week:

Let my kid face the harsh realities of life.
OR...
Shield him from hurt.

This is harder than you think.

Here's the culprit:

His science fair was last week.
When I went to help judge other projects, I was told that his project looked like his parents had done it and it got graded down because it was typed.
I usually don't have a temper but I had to leave the building.

So how do I teach him to accept the grade he received when I am having trouble accepting it myself?
How do I show him how to be graceful in a situation filled with anything but grace?
And why am I struggling with this?

I can't remember anything bad from my childhood.
My home was extremely stable.
All my memories are really happy.
Pool parties.  Family game nights.  Sleepovers with best friends. Piano lessons. Grandparents as babysitters. Tree forts.  Lots of little animals that my mom and I fell in love with and couldn't resist. Art projects. Stories and books.
These are the first things that come to mind I talk about my childhood.

So, I am left thinking.
Did my parents shield me from the hard stuff?
OR...
Did my stable childhood just overcome hard life lessons I had to learn?
OR...
Does my memory just stink?
OR...
A combo of all three?

Thank-you, mom and dad.
Thank-you for shielding me when I needed your protection.
Thank-you for providing enough positive life lessons that somehow the hard ones just took their place among them and don't stand out as painful.

I guess it all boils down to grace again, doesn't it?!

Happy Birthday, dad.
I appreciate you.
I love you.

Pantyhose

makes you smile, doesn't it?

growing up, i went to a christian school where we had to wear 'em everyday along with our knee length skirts.

not smiling anymore, are ya?

perhaps you need a visual.

smiling again?

at least i had a cool trapper keeper.

right now, i am so very very passionate about grace. i can't stop the grace concept from infiltrating every part of my life.

i am concerned that so many Christians want to wear panyhose. 

need another visual?

but pantyhose restrict. 

they itch. 

they're uncomfortable. 

they tone everyone to be the same color. 

they get holes easily. 

and quite frankly, they stink when you wear them too long. 

God's grace allows for freedom.

FREEDOM.

unless you had to wear panyhose for 12+ years of your life, you may not really understand what freedom from those nasty things feels like. 

God knew there was a better way to live. 

freedom to expose (gasp!) your real self to the world. 

freedom to say, "i'm not perfect."

freedom to be not boring. to live a life of adventure.

freedom to emit an odor that is so fragrant and inviting that everyone comes to see what is making it.

ha!ha!ha! that line made me laugh so i'm leaving it in.

freedom to accept others how they are, 

where they are, 

who they are; 

and know that I am only responsible for extending grace to them.

just as it was extended to me. 

GRACE. extended. to. me.

for. me.

pantyhose.

yuck.

please put them away.