The 100 Day Project: Our Daily Fruit

 

I'm a sucker for a documentation project (Exhibit A: journals, photobooks and videos galore!) so #the100dayproject is right up my alley (It's like a Venn diagram of Instagram and Creative projects aka: my wheelhouse!) If you're not familiar, The 100 Day Project "is a free, global art project. The idea is simple: choose a creative project, do it every day for 100 days, and share your process online."

I've participated 3 times before, but when it rolled around again in 2020 it was right at the start of the pandemic, so I was too overwhelmed to make it happen. (At that point I felt like managing the bare minimum of our regular responsibilities for 100 days was going to a miracle in an of itself...so I did something incredibly uncharacteristic for myself and bowed out of something that sounded like fun but would actually make me cry.)

But the project is back for 2021...with a new January start date (I think they figured people were getting a little antsy at home and could use a creative distraction) and I've got my life just under control enough to want to dive back in. (oooooorrrrrr, I'm antsy at home and could use a creative distraction). 

 I wrote quite a bit about my thought process for choosing a project previously, and it all still holds true (TLDR: my project requirements are: Easy, Meaningful, Portable, Fun) so I'll spare you the drawn out intro and get to the good stuff- my 2021 project! 

This round's adventure: 

Our Daily Fruit

(Alright, now this is going to get a bit corny, and a lot Jesus-y...stick with me though)

My idea is to spend the next 100 days focusing on the concept of the fruit of the Spirit...learning about it and trying to live it out as a family. Yep- the whole Bowden brood is getting involved this time around (well- they don't actually know that yet, but I'll hype it up big and quick).

If you're not familiar with the fruit of the Spirit- it's a list of qualities of the Holy Spirit: 

"The Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control."

- Galatians 5:22-23

 It's called "fruit" because it's the evidence of God's goodness in our lives. These qualities are things that are instilled in Christians through the Holy Spirit, and then our actions that are in line with the character of God become visible, tangible examples of Him to others.

(Disclaimer, I'm faaaaaar from a Bible scholar, so that is the super-simple, mostly-correct way to describe a much grander concept. Option B was me just linking to this video.)

(Secondary disclaimer, I don't have a great reason for including a charcuterie board picture in this post, but it does technically contain fruit, and was a super LOVING way that my mom brought me JOY. It is not, however, a good tool for practicing SELF-CONTROL.)

I've wanted to get into more formal spiritual practices with the kids (alright- I could also use some motivation myself too...) so I thought this project would be the perfect way to be more intentional with how we live. The parameters I've landed on for my project are pretty simple- there are 9 "types" of fruit, so we'll spend 10 days focusing on each one- with a 10 day "general intro" period in the upfront. I didn't want to get too ambitious, or legalistic etc. with the activities for each day, so that part will be super flexible. Basically, the project just serves as a loose framework for us to try to incorporate more goodness into our daily actions. Anything love related? Counts. Anything having to do with peace? Counts. I came up with a few categories to try to spur on different ways to think about and practice "bearing fruit":

• READ • DISCUSS • SERVE • CREATE • REFLECT • APPRECIATE •  

So my thought is some days we'll read about that week's "fruit" (either in Scripture, or even just noticing these qualities in our "regular" books); we can talk about them; we can practice living them out (towards each other and our broader community); I might get super Pinterest-y and organize a craft (or a snack!!); we can reflect on times we've experienced a particular fruit; we can show appreciation when we see it currently in our lives. I want to encourage each other to make it as actionable as possible- even if just simple ways we treat each other kindly...but at times I hope it plays out in grander ways as well. I'm trying to keep it really open-ended so that we can make it work over the long haul...focusing less on the logistics of what we do, and more about the meaning behind how we live and love.

I'll be posting thoughts/progress/struggles on @our_daily_fruit on Instagram...partly as a creative expression, partly as documentation of our life during this time, and partly as an accountability tool to actually stick with it. I'd love if you'd follow along, but I'd be OVERJOYED to have you participate with us! 

I made a "tracker" of sorts...thinking the kids would like to treat it like a "make your own advent calendar" (there aren't any LEGO or tiny cheese wheels hidden by little doors, but you DO get to go be extra kind to your sister! what a GIFT THIS LIFE IS!) I'm going to frame this sheet and let them keep track the project with a dry erase marker.

Download the 8x10 PDF printable here

 

You can print one out too and join us for this adventure! (Even if you don't identify as a Christian, I think we can all agree that these traits are something the world could use more of- especially right now!)
 

The official 100 Day project starts this Sunday, January 31st (but don't worry too much about a "deadline"- anytime is a good time to do good things!) Let me know if you're thinking about giving it a whirl. Or if you have another idea for a 100 Day Project I want to hear it...I love following along with other people's ideas!

P.S. You can see my past projects here:

2019: View Through Hue

2018: The 100 Days of Days

2017: Show Your Real

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A Change is Gonna Come

"What's the point?"

I’ve been struggling a lot lately with that feeling in regards to politics. We are SO divided as a nation, with people DEEPLY entrenched in their views on either side. There is a lot of talking (actually- yelling) little listening, and seemingly no budging. So what’s the point? Why bother debating, correcting, convincing, educating, campaigning, protesting...flag-flying, sign-posting, petition-signing, IG story-sharing, or truth-seeking if everyone is already set in their beliefs/decisions/party lines?

What’s the point in discussing all of this with my Trump-supporting friends or family if they’re not going to change? Is it worth it? To risk awkwardness, or hurt, or even a severed relationship when no change in opinion is likely to come anyway? What’s the point in even voting if my vote is just going to get cancelled out by my MAGA hat wearing neighbor, my ultra-conservative cousin, or outnumbered by groups I’m technically a part of but shockingly unaligned with (hey there: evangelical Christians and suburban white women!)?

How much do I want to “make this a thing”? How much does it matter? How much should I speak up? How much should I risk? How much do I think I can change? 

I honestly don’t know. But a quote I saw recently might hold part of the answer. “I don’t do this to change the country. I do this so the country won’t change me.” 

So when the controversies flare up, the alliances dig in deeper, the dividing lines are put on display...I may not change her mind, or his mind, or your mind...but I can fight to be unchanged by a world I don’t agree with. And that is HARD. It’s COMPLICATED. It's a flip-your-brain-inside-out kind of struggle, dealing with the cognitive dissonance of it all, trying to understand what's true, what matters, how does it fit, what does it mean, what should I do, who am I, and who do I want to be...

 

Who I am (in my very core, at my very best) is a Jesus-following, family-loving, friend-supporting, people-championing, everyone-accepting person. I won’t give any of that up for any candidate, policy or party. But I also absolutely won’t compromise any of that by supporting, condoning, or ignoring systems, rhetoric, or people who promote hate.

 

And that all sounds just fine and good, and fairly politically-agnostic. Because in the end, we're all just good people trying to do good things, right? 

 

Well...let me say this as clearly as I‘m able to now, at the risk of offending, or being misunderstood, or accused of hypocrisy...

I do not support President Trump. I will not vote for him. And I have some serious concerns and questions about people who do and will. Yes- even people I wholeheartedly love. Actually, ESPECIALLY those people. I want to love unconditionally, I want to fully trust that relationships are bigger than politics, and know that everyday actions mean more than one box we check every four years. But I also deeply struggle with understanding how a leader of such profoundly and obviously flawed character could be endorsed by anyone who professes to value the same things I do. 

And let me also say:

I will love you no matter who you vote for. But please don't make me prove it! (Kidding. Kind of!)

 

I'll say it again because I need to repeat it confidently as I simultaneously start the hard work of meaning it: I will love you no matter who you vote for.

 

But I ask you to consider what your vote demonstrates to those around you. What does it say to your daughters? What does it say to your Black friends? Your gay coworker? Your classmate with a disability? Your immigrant neighbor? (OH how this list could go on...) What does it say you care about? And who does it say you DON’T care about?

 

And here- let me be explicit: If you vote for Trump, can you look at my kids...my white, Black, male and female children of yet-to-be-determined ability, status or sexual orientation...and proudly tell them who you voted for? Knowing all that you know. Witnessing all that you've seen and heard. Can you tell them what your vote means? What your yard sign is about? Who and what exactly you are putting your social, emotional, and monetary trust and support behind? Can you rationalize enough? Explain enough? Overlook enough? Cost-benefit analyze enough? Will any amount of party-loyalty or tax break incentives be enough to back that choice?

I am a broken, flawed, mess in progress, now, this November and always. I will change in innumerable ways between now and this November and the end of my life. My circumstances, my opinions, my approach (and my hairstyle!) could all be radically different over time as I pursue continual growth. I’m not afraid of that change. I’m not ashamed of progress that reveals contradictions. I will not confuse healthy conviction to core ideals with a stubborn grasp on temporal things. I will be changed in many ways, but I will be vigilant in what things I allow to change me. 

I will hold fast to the example Jesus set, and my responsibility to do what’s right.

I will pray for the bravery to speak up for others, stand up to harm, and risk my own comfort for broader gain.

I will vote for Joe Biden.

And I will hope for the very, very best kind of change for us all.

 

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Movin' on Up

BIG NEWS!

We bought a house! And sold a house!

Big stuff, right?!

I've got all kinds of details of the real estate whirlwind that took place over the last few weeks...but for now I want to share a little story, and a big piece of my heart:

Last night I met a contractor at the new house to walk him through our (wild) ideas and see what might be feasible (Meeting theme: I want to change everything! What can you do in 13 days for $9.97?!) If you saw my IG stories this weekend, then you got a peek at what we're starting with and what we might want to do...it's a whole lot of "paint it allllllll white!", but our big goal is to to make some adjustments to add another bedroom, and maybe make one of the existing bedrooms larger. I talked the contractor through our potential plans to see what's possible, and while he had all kinds of technical knowledge about how to make the construction work, he had a bit of trouble catching my overall vision:

Contractor: I mean- we can do it. But what do you need another bedroom for?
Me: Guests!

Contractor: Guests? Your parents live here. Who's going to come stay with you?

Me: Ummmm...I dunno. Friends...?
Contractor: Friends? Tell them to go home to sleep at their own house!
Me: Well...out of town friends. And...uh...Dustin's dad!
Contractor: ....ooooook.... But if you add the 5th bedroom, then why do you need to make another bedroom bigger?
Me: So the girls can still share a room without being cramped. 

Contractor: Why can't you just give them each their own room?
Me: Well...because someday we might have more kids.
Contractor: MORE kids? Is there something wrong with you? You have four kids. You must really like kids...You want MORE kids?
Me: Well...I don't know...Maybe we will. My husband says...well I've been thinking...Anyway, the point is...well...I just need more bedrooms, ok?!

 And a little while later:

Me: Can you measure the distance from the floor to the bottom of the window in the family room for me?
Contractor: Why, you trying to turn that into a bedroom too?
Me: .............nooooo?.............

Now, this particular contractor actually did a ton of work for my parents years and years ago, so while I've never worked with him directly, I do know him semi-well enough to know he's mostly (mostly) joking. He's got a really dry sense of humor, so he got a kick out of giving me a hard time, and I had fun playing into the whole charade. At my best, I'm able to sell my nonsense as charm, which is basically essential when you're trying to convince a really good contractor to squeeze a really lofty project (on a really small budget) into a really unreasonable timeline.

So I humored his good-natured jabbing, but it did highlight some things I've been thinking about a lot as we've been exploring the idea of moving. We've felt the urge to move for a while...feeling a little cramped in our current space. But I've also felt unsure- like getting something bigger (and more expensive) is extravagant and unnecessary. Plenty of people grow up with faaaaaaaar less than we have now. Not a single thing on my new house wish-list could be considered a necessity. It's all upgrades and nice-to-haves. And that makes me wonder: Is it worth it? Do I deserve it? And then my wonders spawn more wonders, and swirl into even more wonders:

Do we actually need more space?
Should we really spend all this money on stuff?
Are we really going to have more kids?
Are my priorities out of whack?
Am I just trying to keep up with other people?
Am I spoiled? Are my kids spoiled?
Are we going to be house-poor?
Should we do all the work ourselves?
Should we bail on the whole idea and buy a camper instead?

There are a ton of very real, very valid reasons why a bigger house is a good idea for our family. And there is also a ton of truth in the notion that we don't need a bigger house. And I'm finding myself caught up in the in-between. To get all biblical for a minute: how do I live in the world but not be of the world? How do I reconcile my desire for a nice new house (with nice new finishes, and nice new things to fill it with) with my deeper desire to place my values on things of true value? How do I build a home without accidentally making it an idol? I'm not trying to turn a quest for a three car garage into an existential crisis...but at the same time, I don't want to just blindly follow my wants and whims down a dark path.

But then there's the opposite side of things. The part my contractor was jesting at...
The idea that maybe we are just a little bit weird.

It won't make sense to everyone that I want more bedrooms just in case. They won't understand that I don't have to know who's going to stay there to know that I'm supposed to prepare a bed anyway. They might not get that there is a call in my heart towards hospitality even when I can't explain what form that's going to take. If I sound a little wacky when I start talking about having another kid, then I sound completely nuts when I mention taking in pregnant teens. (chill, Dus, it's just an idea!!)

Sooooo- I'm torn:
Half of me thinks I should sell(/donate) everything and live a simple, minimalist life. We'll buy nothing, and want for nothing. We'll keep the mandolin, a few chambray shirts, and hold hands while we sing sweet songs to Jesus. What discipline and wisdom we'll have then!

But then all of me remembers I COULD NEVER DO THAT. Well, chambray and mando I can do...it's the give-up-all-the-things part I would struggle with. I'm a more-is-more person. I'm a yes and person. I'm a creative person. A crafty person. A borders-on-hoarder person.

So I'm trying to work on honoring all parts of me...while honoring the One who created all of those parts.
Yes- I want to dream and build, and create beautiful things. I'm going to save DIY tutorials, invest in nice hardwood floors, and send Dustin on endless shady Facebook Marketplace pickups. Not because my hope is found in stuff...but because I am hard-wired as a designer and maker and passionate thing-finder. There is joy there, and joy is good.

And also yes- I want to make the most of the much I've been given. I want to have bunk beds and trundles, and pull out sofas and dining tables with leaves on leaves on leaves. I want to be able to say yes. You can stay here. You are welcome here. There is room for you. There is enough for us all.

It might not make sense. Not to you, not to my contractor, not to me sometimes. I don't know if I'm doing anything right. I might be too much. I may not be doing enough. But we're figuring it out...and trying to laugh, and grow, and be kind and stay juuuuust this side of crazy while we muddle along this adventure of doubt and blessing...

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As the contractor and I ended our tour for the night (after he schooled me on the need for a walk-in pantry if I was going to insist on keeping all these kids) I smiled and told him the one thing about this renovation I am sure of:

Me: You know...you can't put a price on how much fun this project would be to do together.
Contractor: Well, you're absolutely right about that.

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Good Friday: The One Who...

The story of Good Friday and Easter is big. We’ve got a lot of people involved. We’ve got villains and allies, prestigious government officials and a rowdy crowd... Some are just barely mentioned, and some play huge role. Among that cast of characters are the disciples- a couple in particular who are right in the thick of it- specifically: John and Peter. 

First, we have John- He’s actually known as the one who Jesus loved. That’s how he’s referred to in much of scripture- and it’s quite the claim to fame.

Then we have Peter- And, of course Jesus loved him too- but as you’ll see- he ends up earning a different reputation- which could probably be summed up as: The One Who Messes Up A Lot. 

Through all the scriptures, you can see Peter’s true heart for Jesus, but you can also see his mistakes; his really good intentions, and his spectacular shortcomings.

So- there is a ton to learn from everyone in the account of Easter…but for me at least- Peter might be the most relatable of them all. His story, my story, and maybe your story…are messy. Complicated. Real. So let’s take a look at Good Friday, through the eyes of Peter: The One Who…is a lot like so many of us.

So to start off, let’s look at the beginning of Peter’s role in Good Friday- this part could be called: 

Peter: The One Who Promised To Stay Loyal 

Mark 14:27-31

Jesus is hanging out with his disciples, and he says: All of you will desert me. Peter said to him, “Even if everyone else deserts you, I never will.” Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, Peter- this very night, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny three times that you even know me.” “No!” Peter declared emphatically. “Even if I have to die with you, I will never deny you!”

You hear that passion? It says he’s emphatic about his love for Jesus. When Jesus declares that they will all desert him, Peter can’t believe it. Jesus- his friend- his perfect friend who knows all, and has NEVER lied- says to him point-blank: “I tell you the truth…” And still Peter says “No way!” He can’t imagine denying his relationship with Jesus. He’s even willing to die if he has to.

I admire that! I’m not always that sure of myself. I’m not always that devoted. But Peter is committed!

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But what happens next?  What’s the next headline in Peter’s story? 

Peter: The One Who Denied Jesus 

We’ll pick up the story in the book of Matthew...Jesus is going to the high priest’s house to face a trial for crimes he didn't commit. Peter follows along, but he’s not allowed in the gates, so he hangs out around the fire with the servants. 

Matthew 26:69-75

Meanwhile, Peter was sitting outside in the courtyard. A servant girl came over and said to him, “You were one of those with Jesus the Galilean.” But Peter denied it in front of everyone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. (That’s one) Later, out by the gate, another servant girl noticed him and said to those standing around, “This man was with Jesus of Nazareth.” Again, Peter denied it, this time with an oath. “I don’t even know the man,” he said. (Two...) A little later some of the other bystanders came over to Peter and said, “You must be one of them; we can tell by your Galilean accent.” Peter swore, “A curse on me if I’m lying—I don’t know the man!” (Three) And immediately the rooster crowed. Suddenly, Jesus’ words flashed through Peter’s mind: “Before the rooster crows, you will deny three times that you even know me.”

And THAT is when he realizes: Oh no.. I really messed this up. It’s happening just the way Jesus said it would. 

And I can imagine just what it was like for him…people start asking questions, it starts getting a little heated, and before he knows it, he has done the exact opposite of what he swore he would do: he’s completely, and repeatedly denied Jesus.

Have you ever been in a situation like that? You feel so confident in something- oh I’ll never do that, or oh of course I’ll do this… And then you get in the moment and you cave. You bail. You panic… You break the promises you made to yourself or others...you do or say things you never thought you would...

I've been there. I can relate. But the part that really floors me, is how extreme it all is. Earlier- he’s willing to die for Jesus. He’s all in. Now? He claims he doesn’t even know him. All because some people questioned him. He got scared, and wanted to hide any association to Jesus that might get him into trouble.

And unfortunately, this becomes a big part of what Peter is known for. 
But…there’s more. We can call this part: 

Peter: The One Who Ran Away 

Continuing in Matthew 26 verse 75 tells us as soon as he heard the rooster crow, Jesus’ words flashed through his mind. And he went away, weeping bitterly. 

And after that…we actually don’t hear much about Peter for a little while. He’s absent from a big portion of the Good Friday story because he left. 

He went from: 
-confessing his undying loyalty
-to denying Jesus (just as Jesus predicted he would)
-to running away and missing the whole thing 

Jesus is now being put on trial with the Roman governor. He’s being mocked, and flogged, and sentenced to crucifixion. The mob is screaming at him, the soldiers are stealing his clothes, and spitting in his face…and Peter isn’t even there.

He let his own shame take over- preventing him from being there when Jesus needed him most.

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Ok…so that’s it? That’s Peter’s legacy? After years spent listening to Jesus’ teachings, witnessing His miracles, following Him faithfully, these are the things Peter is defined by?

• Peter: The one who disappointed and denied Jesus
• Peter: The one who ran away and hid in shame.
• Peter: the one who had great intentions, but still just never quite got there... 

Well...without the cross- yeah. That might have been it...

Because Peter was RIGHT THERE for THE event that shaped all of eternity...but his sin was also right there through it all. He meant well. He tried hard. But no matter what, he was still just a screwed-up, screw-up.

But that’s why Jesus came. He came to seek the lost, to love the broken, to forgive the sinners… He came to be Peter’s best friend, even if, even when, Peter failed him, fled from him, and betrayed him. He came for Peter just as he came for every one of us messy, imperfect people, because He loves us beyond our wildest comprehension.

But it doesn’t stop there. Because Jesus didn’t just come for us...He died for us. He willingly submitted to death- a brutal, humiliating death, that He didn’t deserve- so that we can have eternal life.

And that’s what tonight is about---remembering the drama and the intensity of that sacrifice, and reflecting on the implications of this story. So let’s do that...even if just for a few quiet moments. Let’s learn from Peter’s missteps and stay present, with our eyes fixed on Jesus- even when it’s hard, even when it’s dark. Let’s sit in the weight of the reality that Peter, and each of us are: 

The One Who Put Him on The Cross. 

But then...let’s hold fast to the hope that we know is coming...fulfillment of the complete story- which brings joy, redemption, and ultimately- the promise of a new identity which is made available to every one of us. Let us all be known as: 

The One Who Jesus Saved 

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We need a miracle

Over the years I've done every version of resolutions imaginable (trust me...read for yourself)..from monthly goals, to a theme for the year...little tasks, giant shifts...it's been all over the board. I don't always make them and if I do, I certainly don't always follow through (maybe never. Never might be more accurate there), but regardless, I like the idea. I'm a goal oriented person, and I love the structure, the challenge, the fresh-start, the chance to dream...

But this year I didn't have a clue what my resolution would be, or if I would even make one at all. Sure, I have some cliché fitness goals I'd like to work towards (oooh, New Year's diet, how fascinatingly original!) but outside of that vague "tone it up" nonsense that I am barely bothering to solidify, I haven't given the whole topic much thought this time around.

Cut to: Our living room this morning.
We were watching "church at home"- the live streaming service that our church did instead of a traditional gathering this week, and the worship team started playing "We Need a Miracle". It's an original song by our worship leader...one we've played a few times this year as a type of anthem to go with the advent series.

Miracle, miracle, we need a miracle. 

Miller was snuggled up next to me (loving watching our friends on the big screen), and after every line of the song, he said to me, "Miracle? Miracle, mama?"
"Yes, buddy, miracle" I said to him again and again.

I thought it was funny how he latched on to the word...and cute how he kept repeating it back to me to make sure he got it right. Now, I don't actually think he grasped the concept, but it still got me thinking...

As I showered tonight, getting ready for the night's festivities, I just kept hearing that word in my head.
Miracle.

Miracle.

We need a miracle.

I need a miracle.

That was it. My word. My resolution. My truth.
Because what is a miracle? I guess it's anything that seems impossible, and yet...is, anyway. It's something awesome, that defies all explanation. It's hope, and power and and it's divine.

And that is what we need.

I don't need a little more sleep, or a little more patience, or to lose five pounds, or to stop using the f-word when I'm aggravated. (Ok...I do kinda need all of those things...). I need a MIRACLE to shape who I am, to guide the course of my life...to do...everything.

Because left to my own devices, ideas, and abilities, I'll set up some decent goals, and pray some modest prayers. I'll try hard, fail hard, and pray for help along the way. But a miracle? Am I bold enough, and faithful enough, to actually ask for a miracle? And am I wise enough, and faithful enough, to notice one when I get it?

What are the miracles we so desperately need?
And what would happen if we actually asked for them? 

Healing, freedom, restoration, transformation...

That's the stuff we can't earn, we can't try our way into, and we can't set up measured milestones towards achieving.

I need big giant miracles in my life right now.
Not the: Man, it'd be a miracle if I could get out the door on time in the morning kind (though it would be...for real), but the: God, please step in and fix this mess, bless these people, redeem what I can't, heal this pain, remove this fear, console this hurt, do stuff I can barely even imagine kind of miracle.

And if you were willing to share, I'd bet you do too.
What are you hoping for in 2018? A new relationship? A restored old one? A career transformation? A reversal of a diagnosis? The arrival of a baby? Freedom from addiction? Forgiveness for a mistake?

Well what if we asked for these things? What if we just put our hands up, and cried out: we need a miracle?

Would He show up?

Well...I think so. And so that's my word. And that's my hope. And that's my prayer.

Our hearts are tiredSend us a miracleOur faith is triedPlease send us a miracle. 

And if I'm willing to pray for that...then I need to be trusting to receive it. I need to have my eyes, and arms, and heart open to notice- and welcome- the miracles when they come. I need to be humble enough to admit that I don't have the power to do this on my own...and faithful enough to eagerly believe and expect that God can- and will- do the impossible in my life.

2018...A miraculous year in the making.

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Ready for the ruckus...

On Monday we got a call that we've been waiting on for a long time...

We are certified foster parents!

We began this process back in September, taking classes and getting started on the (copious amount of) paperwork. We weren't able to get all the classes done in the first session (it was every Saturday for a few months) and there was a big break for the holidays, so the whole process dragged on a bit. We completed our homestudy back in March, completed our paperwork and from there we were told it was just a matter of the state approving it.

Well...we ran into some bureaucratic hiccups, that resulted in more paperwork, repeat fingerprints, some backup references, even more paperwork, and another interview to approve us as a "large family" (because our certification could enable us to have 5+ kids total).

So we jumped through the hoops- again, some more- somewhat impatiently, finally finishing everything up (we thought/hoped/prayed) last Friday. And then we waited...and were surprised to hear back from our agency the next (business) day- we were approved. We were certified. This whole thing is real, and finished...but also...about to start.

The clock. A visible metaphor...

This whole process is hard for about a million reasons (and we haven't even started the hard part) but the thing I struggle with most is that it doesn't feel real. During the training phase, it's all really theoretical. You know that at the end of this there is a kid (or kids, or a baby...or babies) but you don't know really anything else. There's no official timeline, there are no guarantees, there's no way to prep for a certain scenario because genuinely almost anything could happen. It's all very abstract. And for a planner/prepper like myself, that's tough. I can fill out forms all day, but printing multiple copies of my birth certificate doesn't exactly get me hyped. I wanted something to latch onto, to get excited about, to get ready for...

So, I planned a room.
I found the fun stuff, the stuff I can control, and poured my heart and energy there.

I joke that if having babies was all nursery-decorating and name choosing, I would have a MILLION babies. It's honestly just the most fun. I love to design a room, but with my kiddos it's about so much more than that. It's about making a space just for them. It's dreaming in 3 dimensions...imagining what they'll enjoy, what you'll do together, who they'll become...

So as we did the nitty-gritty work on the logistical side, and started wading into the heart-stretching work on the spiritual side, I got my hands dirty on the design side. (and, as always, made Dustin get his hands dirty too...we're in this together, after all, and mama needed some carpentry done!)

I won't bore you with every single detail of the room, buuuuuuuuuuuuuut...

I really do love how it turned out. There isn't really an exact theme, but it all has a bit of a mid-century vintage vibe, with a little bit of school-book stuff worked in there. Mix of primary colors + neutrals + gold. And really just anything I fall in love with.

One of my absolute favorite things is the very first thing I got for our future foster babe...An original poetry piece by my friend Amy Turn Sharp. Over two years ago...even before I had Miller...I saw one of her "basically it's like this" poems and knew I had to have it. The text says:

Basically it's like this

 I wish you would show up unannounced and cause a ruckus. 

That just spoke to me...Because that's what kids do. However planned, however anticipated, there is always a bit of wildness to their arrival, and they cause a ruckus in your heart, in the best and hardest ways. When I fell in love with those words, I didn't know that we would foster one day. And even now, I know I only barely grasp how true these words could prove to be as we open the literal and figurative door for our lives to be turned upside-down.

So as soon as we started down this wild path, I asked her to make a custom piece for me, using a page from an old Dick and Jane book. I've had it framed for months now...ready...waiting...just like we are...

(And in a funny little circular story...I bought the art from Amy to help fund her attendance at a creative conference, and Amy bought the queen bed we needed to sell to make room for the crib in this room. I love having tangible reminders and little hidden backstories worked into this space that remind me this whole thing is so much bigger than me...We're all inter-connected, and a part of a journey together). 

As much fun as redecorating if for me, I didn't want to (/couldn't) spend a ton of money on a bunch of new things, so we made it work almost entirely with pieces we already owned. (You'll recognize a lot from when this space was set up as a guest room, and a few things from Piper's nursery). The biggest purchase was a new (vintage) dresser, that I fell in love with online...and then fell in LOVE with after Dustin redid.

We were about two seconds away from painting it and I panicked, feeling like we owed it to the dresser to try refinishing it first. And I'm so thankful we did (ok...Dustin did all of it. But "we" were a part of the vision, which is basically 90% of any project). It's seriously stunning...and I haven't even gotten the thrill of filling it with teeny tiny clothes yet, so I know I'll fall even more in love with it.

He also made a desk to fill that awkward "nook", and created the prettiest striped-wood shelves to display my treasures. He's a good daddy (and husband, and woodworker, and human), that guy.

(One more quick backstory...we bought a "new" crib on craigslist...we already had one for the room, but we had to have two available in order to be certified for two kiddos. And when Dustin went to get it, he found out the people selling it were running a resale business to raise money for their adoption. I mean...does it get better than that?)

The rest of the room came together pretty easily, as we just rearranged, and swapped stuff, and swapped again, and rearranged again. Even after the main pieces were in place, I kept futzing...changing artwork, adding knick-knacks...But the foundation is there...ready for this "someday" to become "now"...

So speaking of now...what you're really here for, and wondering...

What now?

Well. We're certified. Which means we're legally allowed to take in foster placements. We get the same questions every time we talk about it, and they go a little something like this: 

How does it work? When will you get a kid? How old will they be? How many can you take? Where will they go during the day? Are you going to adopt them? What if you have to give them back? 

As you can imagine, the answers to some of these questions are simpler than others. But here's the gist: 

We're certified through a private agency. When the county (technically any county surrounding Central Ohio, but most likely will be Franklin) has to remove a child from a home, they call all the agencies in the area (there are many) and give the details they have to determine what homes might be available and a good fit. (depending on the circumstance they might know a lot about the child, or nearly nothing. They might have some advance notice that they're going to need a placement, or it can be a sudden emergency. The answer to most questions in foster care is: it varies.) Then each agency calls their families that have space, and meet the criteria for the particular case (open to that age/number of kids, particular need etc.). If they call us, we can accept or decline. If we accept, our agency goes back to the county with our information...as do all of the other agencies. Then the county chooses what they believe to be the best match. 

So- to boil it down- for us to receive a placement- we'd have to be contacted, say yes, and then be chosen. 

And even then, it could fall through, if the situation changes, family members are located, etc. etc. Again...we're already learning that this whole thing is a little....fluid. 

As a part of our paperwork, we were asked hundreds (seriously) of questions about the types of children we felt equipped to care for. This covered everything from age, to race, to behavioral information, to legal circumstances. 

Legally, we are certified for 1-2 kids, ages 0-5. We went with 2 so that we could take in sibling sets if needed. So we could be called about a newborn, or a preschooler...we just don't know. The plan is for any of our future kiddos to attend the same daycare/school our current kids do. That's obviously a little tricky logistically, so that may be one of the biggest hurdles in this whole thing (besides, you know...just everything which still feels a little/lot daunting). So if/when we get a call we'll have to evaluate if it's a good fit for our family at that time...and make our decision from there. That may mean we get a placement immediately, we may say yes (repeatedly) and not get selected, and we may have to wait, for our own reasons, or for others.
It's a whole lot of...we'll see...

The goal of foster care is first and foremost family reunification. It is designed to hopefully allow families the opportunity for healing, learning and development to allow them to create a safe and healthy environment to have their kids back in their home.

So we are prepared to love these kids...and also let them go. That's the way the system is designed, even if I worry that my heart might not be. It's our goal (and our fervent prayer, because we're going to need that...) to be supportive of the reunification process whenever possible, loving not only the child, but the whole biological family in any way we're called to and able.

But of course reunification isn't always possible, and in those circumstances, the case would likely transition to adoption. Our certification is for foster-to-adopt, meaning that if we had a child placed with us who became available for adoption, then we would be able to pursue that if we chose (no guarantees that they'd stay with us, but it's at least an option/possibility).

There are a thousand other FAQs...either that we are asked, or that we are constantly asking...And most of those get a lot tougher. Those are the ones that start out like:

Can they...How will you...What about...But what if...

And that is the messier, heart wrenching part of all of it because the answer to almost all of those is some variation of "I don't know." And sometimes the answer is just, "No one knows."

This is where the "ruckus" comes in. We're stepping out into the unknown. We have more questions than answers, more fears than facts, more doubts than...well, anything else. I don't know what this is going to look like...I honestly still don't know if this is going to look like anything. But I desperately hope it does. I hope that someone shows up, unannounced, and changes everything for us. I hope for my heart to be expanded, I want my faith to be tested, I need my perspective to be upended.

I want that ruckus to shake up my safe and comfortable life, and teach me how to give more, pray more, love more...than I ever thought I could. And that is a terrifying thing to want...because what if it happens?

On Monday, we got a call that we were certified. And on Tuesday, we got a call to see if we could take a child over the weekend (to help out another foster family). They ended up figuring out a solve for that situation before we even needed to consider it, but that was a reminder for me. At any moment, while I'm doing...whatever I'm doing...there are kids all around this city- families all around this world- going through crisis. One phone call like that may change everything for us...and for them.

We're ready...

Sources: 
Vintage: Suitcases, rollerskates, clock, scarves, blocks, dresser
Goodwill: Flash cards (in frame), desk chair, painting
Handmade/gifts: Poetry art, shelves, desk, quilt, crib skirt
Urban Outfitters: Rug, white frames, crib sheet
Target: Lamp, grey felt bins, drawer pulls, whale dish
Michael's: Faux wood frames
Ikea: storage bench
Homegoods: Curtains

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Garbage and Gatorade

The other day I felt convicted by a viral Facebook video.

(pause for just a minute to reflect on how extra-bad that feels. It's like lowest common denominator shame. But the truth comes in all forms, so here we are.)

It was a quick little clip, and one which you may have already seen...it's garbage day, and as the truck pulls up to their house, a couple of little kids run out to greet the guys, excited to see them and bring them each a bottle of Gatorade. It seems like a weekly ritual, as the two workers are greeted by name ("Hi, Mr Rob!") and they happily get out of the truck, scooping up the kids, and letting them "help" load their cans on the truck.

And that's it. 

But it's also kind of everything. 

The video is barely over a minute, but it was enough to show me how community, and serving, and love is done.

I often lament (in a self-aware manner of my #firstworldproblem perspective at least...but lament nonetheless) that I struggle to find time and ways to serve in my community. After all, I have three small kids, and a full time job...even the smallest efforts seem like just too much on top of everything I'm already trying to juggle. I can't bring someone a meal, or visit them in the hospital, or drive down to the soup kitchen...I've got my own little people who need me. And even if I could serve- where are my opportunities? Where is the need? Maybe if we were in the city...but out here in the suburbs? At my office? Many of the people I'm surrounded by each day are better off than we are, what could I do that would even be worthwhile?

(This is where God...and Facebook...step in to basically say: Ummmmm, you're missing it, dummy.)

I may not have a ton of extra time (who does?) or endless streams of money (who does?) but I do have garbage men, and I do have Gatorade (well...I could get some, anyway). I actually even have three little helpers!

Yes, it's reasonable to feel strapped for time, and buried under children. And yes, it's fair to struggle with knowing where to serve, who to serve, and how to serve.

But serving doesn't have to be hard. Community doesn't have to be complicated.
Loving others can (and should) be woven seamlessly into your life (my life), even if that love just looks like a couple of cold drinks for someone who could use them. In these hectic and full days as a mom of little ones, I may not feel like I have much left to give- but I assuredly still have something someone needs. Maybe it's a smile, it might be a hug, perhaps it's advice, or just a well timed bit-moji text encouragement...In the end, it's all just compassion. And there's no reason I can't have that.

Let's go give love like a toddler greeting a garbage man. Loudly, messily, simply and with our whole hearts.

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Full

This morning I woke up early, to a day filled with busyness and to-dos:
Get dressed, get the kids dressed, feed the baby, get the kids' breakfast, pack up the car, find shoes that fit everyone, quiet the meltdown(s), buckle the car seats, text the setup team, drive to church...

When all that was done, and we were finally on our way, I looked in my rear view mirror, and was suddenly struck by a feeling of fullness...not the fullness of my morning...but the fullness of my life:

My car was full of early morning sunshine, streaming through the windows.
My trunk was full of Easter lilies, holding on to life despite having me as a gardener.
My wrist were full of gold bangles, jangling as always.
My belly was full of waffles, cold and soggy, but delicious because I didn't have to make them.
My backseat was full of children giggling and trading candy. 

It was all...so very full. 

I snapped a picture, knowing there's no way it would do justice to what I was seeing and feeling, but wanting to capture it just the same.

We arrived at church, and the rest of the morning was just as full of activity as the day's start:
Do the sound check, hold the baby, get the kids a banana, change the baby, hold the toddler, run through more songs, give the kids some toys, run through another song, drop off the kids, run to the bathroom, lead worship, get the baby, feed the baby, feed the kids, do it all again one more time....

Full.

And then I looked around during the action packed moments of an Easter service, and I saw more fullness:

Seats full of visitors and friends.
A team full of people joyfully serving together.
Arms full of babies- some of them my babies- being cared for and comforted.
Teachers, pastors and storytellers full of wisdom and creativity.
Hearts full of love for Jesus and a passion to make His grace known. 

So as I left, pushing a stroller full of stuffed animals, drawings, toys, and leftover candy wrappers (oh, and a sleeping baby), I took this morning as a reminder that my days are not just full of tasks, and my arms are not just full of things. My ordinary days, and weary arms are full of gifts, people...blessings. But even more importantly than all the temporary fullness of stuff (good or bad), is the gift I've been given of salvation, by a God who loves me enough to sacrifice His own son.

My life is full...because of Him.

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Miller's Dedication

Last Saturday we had the opportunity to dedicate Miller to the Lord. If you're not familiar with baby dedication, it's a ceremony similar to baptism, where parents promise to shepherd their child and lead them towards a life with Jesus. Our church recently started a new tradition, where baby dedication are held in the families' homes, rather than as a part of the regular weekly service. We dedicated the girls about a year ago, so this process was new to us. So we weren't quite sure what to expect, but hey- it was another chance to throw a party, so I wasn't complaining!

Truthfully, I actually wanted to keep the event as simple as possible...not at all my strong suit. We're adjusting well here, but life is still pretty hectic, so the thought of hosting a formal gathering for tons of family and friends was overwhelming. It's important to me to raise Miller in our family of faith, but the dedication doesn't make or break that...it's simply a nice maker of a larger promise.

So we ended up inviting just family (which was still over a dozen people) for a quick time of prayer, reflection and of course- the ceremonial eating of ice cream! (I said I'd keep it low key, I didn't say it wasn't still a celebration!)

And after just a little bit of stress over getting all of us- and the house- to look presentable, it ended up being the perfect day. Our pastor spoke, giving us encouragement and challenges, for the parenting road ahead of us. My mom cried as I read my note to Miller, and we all laughed at the faux-formality of it all as we stood barefoot in our living room holding our sleeping kid in front of a small crowd of his relatives, while his sisters ignored the speeches, preferring to try on my bracelets and pass out toys to everyone in attendance.

It was short, simple, meaningful, and lovely. (And the ice cream was delicious).

Some snapshots from our day...and my words to my boy:

Miller- you are easy to love. You look exactly like your father and act a lot like a puppy (I mean both of those things in a very good way.) You've transitioned into our family seamlessly (or as seamlessly as a newborn can, anyway) and we quickly fell in love with your smushy face, and sweet demeanor.

But though I don't know a ton about this parenting thing, I know enough to realize that you may not always be this accommodating. So just in case you aren't always quite so cuddly and (relatively) easy to please- I pray your father and I always love you not for how you are, but for what you are. I often find myself hoping you get the good traits of your dad, or worrying you may get the worst bits of me...and as the third child, you're bound to get a lot of comparisons to your older sisters. 

I have a lot of dreams for how you will turn out. I want you to be hardworking, and smart, and kind...I hope you have a good sense of humor, and I know your dad would love another Eagles fan in the family.  Part of our job as a parents is to encourage those traits in you. 

But the vow I make as your mom is to love you no matter what. Even when you're difficult. Even when you're nothing like me. And above all, I promise to remember, and teach you that the most significant and true part of you is what you are: a child of God. 
Your dad and I were specifically chosen and trusted to be your earthly parents and it is our biggest and most sincere prayer that you always know that you were wonderfully made by a loving Father. Your value lies in whose you are.  

How you are is already pretty great but what you are is perfect. 
We love you, Miller August Bowden. We love who, how, and what you are, and are eternally grateful that we get to call you ours. 

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