Sunday, September 27, 2015

Putting my talk.

I have read several blog posts floating social media about the Pro Life stance and how we, as christians, need to heart check.  Are we really pro life? Or are we anti-abortion...?

There is a difference.

I am not going to talk about adoption.

Though I could.

And hopefully, if you read our will see God has called our family to love and parent the fatherless. He may call you as well.  My advice...?  Listen. Closely.

What hit me is the... thought.  Am I pro life?  The parents that often abort are young, single moms.  Growing up in rough situations.  Am I pro that young mom having a child?

I would answer a resounding, confidant...YES! Once that life is there...we are to protect it.  It is sacred.

Yet when that mom is in my church...and her poorly parented children are running around like little I pro life? Am I supportive? Loving? Gentle?

Or am I rolling my eyes, annoyed and wishing she'd be anywhere...but there...?

Well this morning I was definitely called to put the walk to my talk.

We sat in church and a mom who has been coming with her wild, crazy toddler...sat in front of us.  This time, she brought 3 girls as well. All about 8-10 years old.  She sat all 4 children in the row BEHIND her.  Right beside us.

The worship wasn't even over and the kids were screaming.  I mean...wild, crazy, terrible twos, whatever you want to call it...would be a cake walk in comparison.  The entire congregation could hear the meltdowns.  She frequently got up, marched back to our row to yell at the kids. In a loud, very audible, barely classified as 'whisper'.  At one point the little boy (3 years old?) spit on her.  Another time he slapped her across the face.  Another he just screamed at the top of this lungs "NOOOOO! Don't touch me!!!!".  All church.  Mom had no control. None.

The girls sitting beside me were anything but behaved. One was constantly hanging upside down off her chair.  She looked to be 9 years old or so.  They were leaning over to talk to their mom. Getting yelled at.  Yelling back.  It was a nightmare.

Hear a message? Honestly...I don't know if I heard more than 10 words!

The natural thought process?  Really...? Your kids are not well behaved enough to sit in church.  Why are they not sitting WITH you?  Why has your husband not once noticed this mayhem?  Little a walking, screaming, out of control...TERROR.

Then I remembered the blogs I read.  ProLife?  Or...anti abortion?


I leaned over to the girl a few seats away from me.  I tapped her on the arm. She whipped her head around at me, GLARED and said "WHAT?!?!".  I smiled and said "I was wondering if you could draw me a picture?" I handed her a pen and paper.  She snapped "WHY!?!?".  I think everyone in my section is hearing this conversation.  I have no idea if it's going to work.  I said "I would love to see how amazing you can draw. Could you do that? I bet you can do a beautiful picture!".  She is staring at me with a scowl. Totally trying to figure me out. I have a pasted...perhaps begging smile on my face.

She snatches it out of my hand and kneels on the floor beside her chair. And starts to draw. She drew a quick, rushed, sloppy dog.  She glared up at me and I smiled.  She kept going. She drew the most detailed picture.  It took her 15 minutes or so.  Mom sitting ahead didn't seem to notice the row behind her was suddenly very quiet.

When she was done she handed it to me.  The intensity of her eyes grabbed my heart.  She was so baffled why I'd want anything from her.  Her hair was matted and all over the place. The mix of sweat pants, gym shoes and a pretty church dress...said much.  I told her it was so beautiful and I knew she was an amazing artist.  She just stared back at me.  Expressionless.

She sat back on her chair as church was almost over. I could feel her stare on my face.  Every few seconds I would glance over at her and smile. She quickly would look ahead, as to NOT catch my glance.

All of a sudden, this child was right in my face.  Like the awkward first date... she had her hand on my neck saying something about my hair.  I tried not to look her in the face, but just smiled.  Then all of a sudden her arms were tightly around my neck. It was the most heartfelt hug.  She just stayed there on my shoulder, in the middle of church.  This is not a toddler.  This is a girl probably 9 years old.

I could feel the lump in my throat.

Choosing to be pro life.  To the moms that definitely need help parenting.  To the moms with more than out-of-control children.  Am I pro life for those children...? Why...yes. Now that you make me stop and think of it. Yes I am.  And yes...that changes my actions.

I was so broken by this little girl's hardness...that had melted within 20 minutes.  We exchanged so few words. She didn't know my name.  I was sitting there with my husband and 3 toddlers.  Her response to love was almost immediate.  Had someone told me that would happen I'd laugh.  Never did I expect that response.

She was so dry. So thirsty.  So very thirsty for love.  I am not saying her mom doesn't love her. Not at all.  There was a lot of anger there. Bad behavior. Bad parenting. Bad behavior. Bad parenting.  It's a vicious cycle.

Pro Life...? Or just...anti abortion?

We can do more. much more.

Friday, September 18, 2015

I choose.

The power to choose.

Choosing to let peace reign.  When life is pure chaos.

Choosing kindness.  When the situation deserves otherwise.

Choosing joy.  When the skies are so grey. 

Choosing hope.  When your foundation is no longer secure.

Ever feel overwhelmed?

Yes. do. do I.  

I don't wear a Super Woman cape under it don't.  

These last few weeks, I have cried.  Weary, hopeless, overwhelmed...tears.

Ever been there...?

Taizi is now gaining weight.  Or was.  But we are in a catch 22.  He no longer wants his food. All he wants is his liquid food. It's like a milkshake to him. 400 calories.  Pure sugar and carbs and plenty of not-so-healthy stuff.  

So we separated it.  Food. 2 hours later, drink. 2 hours later, food, etc.  So that he's hungry at each interval. Still not really working.  He has thrown the food. Into the nearest bin.  Garbage. Toilet.  You name it.  Many times, it's not exactly recoverable.  

And the diarrhea.  There is no way this is acceptable.  The child has been having straight diarrhea for weeks. They changed his formula for the rx drink. It's worse.  Pure liquid.  10-12 times a day. It's so bad, he's playing in a pack and play in the living room b/c every few hours he explodes all over the place and we don't exactly wish that on the carpet.  What are we being told by the medical team "well just keep feeding him what you are feeding him". Awesome.  


We are working hard at our house.  Dean has worked so hard. Framing is done. Roofing is almost done.  Now the sub contractors come in.  We have a lot of work to do to get ready, pick and purchase the flooring that we will be installing.

This is the fun part of our life right now but with everything else on our plate...definitely feeling it.

Then the adoption.  Oh my heck.  Our dossier is done and mailed off to our agency today.  Things have changed over the last 3 years!! Either I have chosen not to remember or this process is way more intense.  From notarized documents being filled out incorrectly. To police departments refusing to fill them out.  To finding out the notary notarized me instead of the doctor's signature.  To flagging people down, begging them for 5 more minutes.  


We have applied for so many adoption grants and while this is an amazing gift, that this even's a lot of work.  Now we sit and pray that we receive grants to off set the costs.  


Starting school in the house we don't wish to be in.  In the garage.  Yes. That's where we have our school room.  It goes from way too hot to way too cold.  How I wish we could just scrap it all and start in January in the new house...but no. Choosing to keep living life right now, even when it's less than ideal.  

Choosing peace.

Planning a series of appts for our kids at Children's hospital knowing Azlan may have a huge jaw surgery before the end of the year...and my heart immediately beats at an abnormal rate.  Just don't call them. Just don't book the appt. Maybe they forgot.  No..Janice. No.  He needs this.  And are equipped to do this next hard thing.  

Choosing courage.  Choosing peace.  

Literally picture yourself standing at a fork in the road.  You choose where the next step goes.  It is a choice.

I choose peace.  Sometimes it's easier to do with a cup of Pumpkin flavored coffee...there's no doubt.  Definitely easier with a good friend.  Absolutely.

I went out for coffee with a friend last week for 4 hours, long after the cafe closed, we sat in the dimly lit parking lot.  Crying. Praying.  Sharing our burdens.  I don't walk this journey alone.  

Perhaps what I most wish you could see as you think Janice Walker is oh-so-much-stronger-and-braver-than-you ... is the army of people that love me so fiercely...that fight for me.  That help keep me focused.  Keep my eyes on Jesus.  The friend that when I'm overcome by fears...looks me in the eye and says "ok Janice. What if.  Let's go there. What if this fear becomes your reality...? Is God still good? Is He still true...? Is He still trustworthy...?" Yes.  That friend.  I love her so deeply for speaking truth into my life and not what I want to hear.  She doesn't bandaid my fears...she reveals them for what they are.  Lack of trust. Lack of faith.  My eyes off Jesus.

I choose to be real. To be transparent.  To put my walls down with people who have shown themselves to be safe.  

I choose surrender in the midst of my hard for the 100th time.  I can do hard things. I can. I can do hard things because of Christ in me.  I'm not caving. I'm not flailing.  I am stronger than my fears. I am able to choose peace and joy and love when it's the furthest thing from natural...because I surrender to Him.  

I choose love. Not the love that first comes to mind.  Want to know something...? That love is never a choice.  That's a natural response.  Mmmm...true.  The love that can change your life forever is the love you choose.  I choose love.  You don't choose something that is a natural response.  That's not a 'hard'.  Love is a verb. Love is a choice.  And it's a hard one.  

Today...when each individual hard in my life feels so big...I choose Peace.