Peachy Mornings

I used to be on time for things. I left early, I was rarely in a hurry, and I was never late. I couldn't understand why some people had such a hard time with punctuality. Seemed pretty simple to me. And then I had children.

I can't remember the last time that I've heard Matthew strike the first chord of the opening song at a Sunday morning church service. It's not that I don't care. I want to be there. I want to be there on time. But inevitably and invariably, the events that unfold around getting 4 small children who wake up at 7:00am out the door by 7:55am foil my best efforts. And yet, with the optimism (or stupidity) of a bird flying into a plate-glass window, I try again every week.

Last Sunday had promise. My son bounded up the stairs at 7:00 sharp, like he always does, a pajama-clad ray of sunshine. Harper shuffled up behind him, half asleep and blanket in tow. A few minutes later Bethany came into the kitchen fully dressed, though with hair that could have resulted from climbing an electric fence. Judah would be waking up soon, and there seemed to be more than enough time for everything to get accomplished. So I'm not sure how it happened, but at 7:58 one child hadn't brushed her hair, another couldn't find her shoes, one had fingernails from the crypt, and the baby was still in the highchair stuffing cheerios into his mouth. Despite my constant prodding, I'd seen icebergs move faster.

At this point tensions were elevated and I morphed into drill sergeant Mommy, barking orders and angrily herding the ranks into the minivan. By the time we were on the road we were clearly going to be late and I was no longer in the mood to go to church at all. I was angry at the kids and angry at myself for being angry at the kids. I considered just turning around and going home. What was the point? I knew I wouldn't be able to smile at people with sincerity. I knew I wouldn't be able to focus and truly sing to Jesus. Why bother going to church after the morning we'd had, and with all that anger inside. And yet I didn't want to let it go. I didn’t want to make it right. I just wanted to be mad.

So I prayed. I prayed and I preached to myself all the way there, and though it wasn't until we were just a few blocks away, my stony heart was finally melted. Before we got out of the van, I turned around and told the kids I needed to ask for their forgiveness because I had made being on time an idol and as a result, had gotten angry at them. As always they were quick to forgive and I got a humbling hug from each one as they piled out into the parking lot. On the walk to Children's Ministries we had a good discussion about idolatry and how it is the root of all our problems and sin. And by the time I got to church, well after it had started, I was able to sincerely smile and sincerely sing.

When it was time to take communion God explained to me what I was supposed to learn that morning. It was OK to come to church a total mess. It was good. It was better, even. What better way to approach the Repairer of all things then in brokenness? What better place to come as a broken person, then into the courts of the Restorer? God's abundant grace was extraordinarily real to me that morning because I walked in knowing that I needed it. Would I have experienced it as richly if I had been on time? If everything had been peachy that morning and there had been no pressure that would squeeze the ugliness inside of me out where it could be seen?

I'm all for peachy mornings. I wouldn't mind more of them. But every now and then it's good to have a rotten one, so you can taste the sweetness of grace.

The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector
 9 To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’
   13 “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’
   14 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Luke 18:9-14

Arrival

*This is a transmission from Songwriter Nerd Camp, intended for fellow songwriter nerds. If you are not one of us, kindly ignore this post and carry on.*

We often refer to Write About Jesus as a family and that is truly what it is. And in the family of WAJ, we all enter at different stages of songwriting life. Many hear of WAJ very early on in their writing careers and are just babies when they first don the orange lanyard, others are seasoned veterans who have cut their teeth elsewhere and show up at WAJ as fully developed, functional family members. I, however, along with many of my favorite people at WAJ, came in somewhere around the 7th grade with braces and pimples, awkward and insecure. That was six years ago, and for some reason this year I looked around and realized that we truly have grown up at WAJ, like the title of the panel that I missed. Like a senior class in cap and gown, I look at the people I have walked alongside in this journey and I see the growth and maturity that only time can bring, yet still knowing that we have so much more to learn.

On the way to the airport for departure, Sean and I talked about what it means to “arrive” in songwriting. I am so glad we had that conversation, because one of the biggest things I took home this year was the understanding that, unless I redefine for myself the concept of arrival, it will always remain just out of reach. So perhaps there are multiple arrivals along the way. Perhaps I have arrived in many ways even this year. Maybe I have “arrived” when....

….I can relate to people for who they are and not what they can do for me.

When I can write not to impress a particular person but to excel in my craft for my joy and God's glory.

When I can sit in a 2 hour writing session and not get beyond a first verse, but leave neither irritated nor discouraged because I have built a relationship with another like-minded brother or sister in Christ.

When I am on the spot and I am able to stop my heart from pounding out of my chest in that moment by saying to myself “my worth is in Christ..... my worth is in Christ...” because I truly believe it.

When I can step back and look at my life and realize that I am in fact living my dream. The moments of discontent come because, for some sick reason, I continually push my dream out of reach rather than enjoy where I am and thank the Lord for His blessing. I'm all for challenging myself and pressing onward, but I have found that if my motivation for pushing harder is void of joy, or has any root in bitterness or jealously or an arrogant sense of entitlement, then songwriting has become an idol that I must hasten to pull down.

It's funny as I look at that list and see that none of them have anything to do with the craft itself. And isn't that what they've been trying to tell us all along? It's about relationships. I guess they know that they're talking about. They who have guided us so patiently through our fumbling adolescent years of slow discovery. They are more than mentors, because WAJ is more than a conference. It is like a family, and they are like parents, giving generously at their own expense, reaching down to pull us up, and hopefully experiencing the joy and fulfillment that comes from seeing the fruit of their sacrifice. To them, I want to say thank you for your rich investment in us. Because very few people arrive anywhere without someone first showing them the way.

The Braselton Family Update Quiz

This is a post that I've had on my list to write for months now, but just haven't gotten around to it. When we starting telling people that we were pregnant, Matthew said I'd better update the blog and fill folks in on what our adoption plans are and all that good stuff. I agreed, but thought it would make for a pretty dry post both to write and to read, so I have been putting it off until now. But in the 30 seconds or so of typing this opening paragraph, I have decided not to resign this post to such a fate. Instead of a “press release” I'm going to make this a short quiz that anyone who is interested can participate in. You'll still get the low-down, but I won't drop off to sleep while editing my own post. I'll also mail a free “Wondrous Things” CD to the first person (other than Luke Simmons) to get 100% correct. Good luck!

The Braselton Family Update Quiz

1. Matthew and Kristie's latest addition to the family is due on:

a) St. Patrick's Day
b) Memorial Day
c) Independence Day
d) Labor Day

2. The decision to have another biological child came about when:

a) Matthew and Kristie found out they were pregnant
b) Kristie got the baby bug and wore Matthew down
c) Matthew got the baby bug and wore Kristie down
d) Bethany and Harper begged for a baby

3. When Matthew and Kristie told their caseworker that they were pregnant, she informed them that:

a) She was very excited for us
b) Agency policy states that a pregnant couple cannot adopt until one year after their baby is born.
c) She will put our home study on hold and all of the paperwork that we've done will still be good to go with a few updates
d) All of the above

4. When Matthew and Kristie heard what she had to say, they:

a) Flew into a fit of rage
b) Were disappointed, but knew that God was in control of their family.
c) Decided to switch agencies and pursue international adoption
d) Booked a Caribbean cruise with the money in their adoption savings account

5. The plan for the Braselton family's adoption is now:

a) Have the new baby and see where our family is at a year from then
b) Switch tracks to international adoption where there are no waiting policies
c) Put the new baby up for adoption so we can adopt sooner
d) Adopt a highway instead

6. The Braseltons were planning on adopting a sibling group of 2 or 3, but now:

a) They want to adopt a sibling group of no less than 4 in hopes of replacing Jon and Kate on cable television.
b) They plan to adopt only one child
c) Their plans have not changed
d) They are in a "wait and see" stage for the next few years

Eight Cents

Last night we told the kids about the earthquake and prayed for Haiti before we went to bed. Bethany had a special connection with Haiti because she had collected a jar of spare change for them last year after learning they were the poorest country in the world. Today at lunch we prayed for them again, and I told the girls that Mommy and Daddy were going to give some money to help Haiti and that they were welcome to give some of their money too if that was something they felt like they wanted to do.

Both girls said right away that they did want to help, and made a dash for their piggy banks. They both came down with hands full of change. Harper handed me a handful of coins she had fished out from her impressive stash (she's quite the saver), and Bethany came down with several coins, all the money she had left (she's quite the spender). Harper gave me her contribution and Bethany pulled out 4 quarters and put them in my hand. “I want to give them a dollar,” she explained, and nodding to the nickel and three pennies that remained in her hand, “I'm going to keep this much.”

“Thank you,” I told her. “It's very generous of you.” Then she asked if we could take a trip to Haiti so we could see what was happening over there. I told her we couldn't, but that I could show her pictures on the computer. She wanted very much to see them, so we sat down on the couch and watched a news clip from NBC. The girls stared silently at the images of collapsed buildings, women crying, and streets full of injured people. “That's so sad...” Harper commented when it was over. “We need to give them the money NOW!”

“We can!” I said, signing onto the Food for the Hungry website. When I got to the space to type in the dollar amount, I started to add up the girls' donations and the grown-up donation.

“Wait.” Bethany said. Then she opened her hand and carefully set the other eight cents onto the laptop. “I want to give the rest.”

I smiled silently, drew her in for a hug and kissed her on the head, then adjusted the total to reflect the additional eight cents. Together, the girls pressed the “checkout now” button and the coins still warm from their hot little hands crossed the ocean and landed in the streets of Haiti. And my heart welled up with the hope that my little girls might learn from me the joy of giving sacrificially, and that I might learn the same from them.

More Thoughts on Mommyhood

Studying 1 Corinthians 13 this morning, applying it to mommyhood. Here's a few paragraphs off my page that I want to keep in mind today.

(this is excerpted from the KBNIV)

If I have obedient, well-behaved children and everyone tells us what good parents we are, but we have not love, it is emptiness and means nothing.

If I get everywhere on time and no children bother me while I'm checking my email, and if I have a clean house and serve great meals and get lots and lots done in a day, but I do not love my kids, then none of it matters, and I am nothing.

If I have a vast ministry that impacts many and I accomplish great things in my lifetime, but I did not love my children, then I missed my first importance and I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not wish its kids were like someone else's when they are embarrassing or take credit for how wonderful they are when they are charming and sweet. It is not condescending and it is courteous, even to small children who won't call you out on it. It does not hold the schedule or the to do list above the people they were meant to serve. It does not walk around like a grumpy martyr for all the things it has to give up for these people. It does not discipline in anger or feel a sense of retribution for itself, but rejoices when the truth is expounded to its children and God is honored and revered. Love holds up under the constant pestering, it gives its children the benefit of the doubt, it hopes great things for them and works to that end, and it withstands every offense. In every moment choose to love, and it will never let you down.

Quick Update

Well, we finished our PS MAPPS classes! We are officially deemed worthy to raise children by the state of Arizona. Now, we just wait for a call!

We are currently camping out in the basement of a wonderful couple from our church until our house in completed, so probably a month or two.

The kids are loving preschool and pre-K so far and just keep growing up so fast! Bethany turns 5 on Saturday, so we are preparing for the Big Barbie Birthday Bash. Working on this year's piñata... it's turning out really neat! I'll have to post pictures of it before Saturday. Sigh... born for destruction.

No time for much creative writing here on the ol' blog. I'm trying to channel any time and energy that I have for that sort if thing into songwriting. Besides, does anyone even read blogs anymore? Seems to me like they're on their way out. But I just saw "Julie and Julia" which was really fun and reminded me that "Oh, right! I have a blog!"

Have you ever been playing hide and seek with your kids and you're hiding and they're just not finding you? And you stay there, hardly breathing, legs cramping up, thinking what a great hiding place you've found only to eventually discover that they've long since moved on to another activity and forgotten all about you?

Fun times.

Stayin' Alive

Alright, I admit it. I'm just posting to keep a pulse, however faint, in this blog. Not a whole lot going on in the adoption realm, just working our way through the last classes we need to be totally certified. We're still very excited but it seems like the more we learn, the scarier the outlook. It's good though- kind of tests your calling.

I was reading in Philippians one this morning and came away with a cool new perspective on my family. Paul is talking to the church and he says(paraphrase) "I thank my God for you because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now... for you are all partakers with me in grace." I asked several questions as I studied the passage, one of which was "How can I apply this passage to my family?"

The Spirit totally applied it to remind me that I am not only raising my children, I am raising my future partners in the gospel. What a huge and awesome responsibility! How I raise them, treat them, talk to them, and train them should reflect that. It's so easy to settle for raising happy, healthy, safe, smart, polite children. But we've been given so much a greater a task than that. What kind of people would I want my future partners in ministry to be? What would I want them to know? What kind of example would I have wanted for them to have?

Also, everyone in my home is a fellow partaker of grace. We are all needy, weak, and messed up people who live each moment on the grace of God. I need to live with them in light of that, as one who is given copious amounts of grace each day.

The thunder is rolling outside. I love that sound when I'm snug indoors. The kids and I are off to Flagstaff tomorrow with some friends to escape the triple digits. And that's all she wrote.