Tuesday, February 05, 2013

A lot of like

Last night as I was going through our nighttime routine with Precious, I was thinking about something someone had told me recently. We were discussing how difficult international adoptions could be, how some countries had banned single parents, closed doors altogether to the USA, or just had unusual requirements.

One such family that he mentioned told of a couple that was applying to adopt and the couple was told that the father would have to lose 30 lbs before they would consider him a valid prospect to adopt their children.

I was amazed that he was able to do it. Losing weight is hard.

And quite frankly, taking a bullet for your kid in a split second decision, is a thousand times easier than living every single day, giving up cookies and sodas and extra portions.
Parents say they love their kids, they'd do anything for them, but if they were told they had to lose 30 lbs do you think they actually could?

That's why I think there is what we call "love" and what God defines as love in 1 Corinthians 13.
That love can lose 30 lbs. That love can live its life selflessly for others. That is love.

What we have is a lot of like.

I know what the "right" answers are supposed to be - but I believe in answering questions honestly. Stopping and really thinking about it. I tend to answer sometimes even more harshly on myself than I have to. But tonight my question is:
Do I love God or do I just really like Him?

Saturday, February 02, 2013

Except for the grace of God: I am her.

Today I Skyped with New Kid. She's sitting in her high chair, sitting straight up flexing her new muscles, and as I watched her grin and smile and bang her fork on her tray her foster mother told me something that rocked my little world.

"The caseworker says the bio mom is in jail right now - and she's said she's 4 months pregnant."

Am I going to have 3 children? 4 children? When will this woman stop having children?

She's addicted to drugs, trying to fill some ache inside her and calm a need that drugs can't fix.
She's addicted to having babies (6 kids born and possibly 1 more on the way), trying to fill some ache inside her to calm a need that babies can't fix.

Only God can help.
Only God.

Amongst the deep pain for her search, I realized today that too often we only notice the people who are obviously self exploding.We miss the ones that implode, silently, massively. This bio mom may not be hurting more than your kids 2nd grade teacher, more than my daycare workers, more than you. She just handles it differently.

When you hit those moments, do you turn to God? Or do you grab a tin of ice cream, spend big bucks on something unnecessary, quit your job? What do you do?