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Loading ...Archive for April, 2008
We’re Off to See the Musicals
When I’m singing in the shower, I sound just like Linda Ronstadt. If I were a cleaner person, I could be famous, I’m sure.
(sigh)
Last weekend, I didn’t have to do much singing. Everyone else was doing it for me.
Our 17-year-old friend Kelley (“Glinda” – the fox in the pink) attends the Texas State School for the Blind in Austin, which presented “The Wizard of Oz” to a packed auditorium Saturday night. All six of us were fascinated by the actors’ precise movements (often following finger snaps behind the curtain), vocal projection and script transitions. I would not have known many of the performers were blind had they not used canes. Keith visited with one of the school’s teachers who admitted the actors’ running up and down the aisles gave her “pause.” The students rehearsed three hours every evening for months. It showed.
Hannah and Julia joined about 20 other kiddos in presenting “Down by the Creekbank” at church Sunday night. Julia and friends (cousins to each other) Kayla and Jenna sang “I Am Adopted.” “I’m adopted, I’m chosen, I bear my father’s name. Living a life of luxury in a castle with the king.” (Don’t get the swelled head, Keith.) Rachel asked me why other adopted choir kiddos didn’t join them at the mike. Well, duh! Because Julia, Kayla and Jenna were the cutest! Absolutely the cutest! I say this will all maternal modesty.
Hannah (pink shirt) and friends Kaylynn and Bailey trio’ed “Love Is.” Hannah participated in her first multi-school Solo/Ensemble competition on Saturday, too, scoring really well. Love Is….hearing your child practice and knowing she’s good.
At the same mutli-school Solo/Ensemble competition Saturday, Bush Middle School had 91 voice soloists, five piano soloists, and 79 Ensemble members represent it, bringing home a total of 175 medals. The Ensemble to which Lois belonged sang “The King Of Love,” and was one of two Ensembles denoted as “Outstanding Performers” among the dozens that competed. And – like Hannah – she scored really well on her Solo. Somehow, I ended up chaperoning at the competition. (“Get in line. Did you sign in? The drinking fountain is over there.”) The news of her Ensemble award was music to my ears.
Way to go, Lo! You really cleaned up!
Posted in 
The God of Broken Pieces
A few weeks ago, Julia and a neighbor girl were playing ball inside and managed to break a glass. I’d told them to play outside – I specifically told them to take that ball outside – I’d told Julia to place her glass in the sink. I knew that if they kept bouncing that ball inside, it wasn’t going to end well. And it didn’t. I rushed downstairs to face two sheepish little girls toeing the glass shards, each accusing the other of the offense.
(sigh) I knew what would happen. And I began to deal with the broken glass, hoping they might learn to listen, and thankful neither was hurt.
We’re coming up on our second “Sisters Day,” celebrating the day Julia came home. We are incredibly blessed to have her as a daughter and sister. At this time of year, my mind always wanders back to St. Pete and Children’s Home #47 remembering how nervous, excited, scared and thrilled we were to finally call her “ours,” recognizing the long attachment journey had just begun.
Many times on adoption boards, or in conversation, or on other blogs or whatever, adoptive parents will totally gloss over the challenges of attachment by saying, “Oh, little X was meant to be part of our family. God had this planned all along.” And everyone nods and smiles. Except for me. Because more and more often lately, I cringe at attributing adoption to God’s perfect will.
I don’t think God engineers births to satifsy the needs of adoptive parents. I don’t think God looks down from heaven and says, “Oh, yeah – the Smiths – they really want a baby. Let me make sure Maria over here supplies an infant for them.” Or, “Little orphan Ivan – I’m going to banish his tiny, shivering body to the icy sewers of Moscow for a few years, preparing him for the Williams.”
No. No. I do not believe the need for adoption is part of God’s will. Neither do I believe that limbless or blind children are part of God’s will. Or that cancer or AIDS is God’s will. Or that lives snuffed out in car crashes are God’s will. Or that young girls brualized by nuts in a religious compound is God’s will.
When I read Genesis – before the fall of man - I see a perfect place. Family is together in communion with God. When I read Revelation – after Christ returns – I see a perfect place. “No tears” and constant worship, we’re promised.
But here we are. Stuck in the middle. And as a race, we’re not really good at obeying our Father, any more than Julia and our neighbor girl are always good at obeying me.
I think God knows what’s going to happen before it happens – but I don’t believe He causes everything to happen. I don’t think He gives cancer to toddlers or crashes vanloads of families. I thnk those things happen because we live in an imperfect world that Satan walks – for now. We have the free will to decide how we’re going to act and react with the circumstances we’re dealt. And when we make poor or immoral choices – they have consequences. Sometimes those consequences breathe. And cry. And long for the comfort of a parent.
Those consequences are like the shattered pieces of Julia’s glass, broken by errant children who chose not to obey. The shards are no less real because we created them instead of God. They explode, arcing in a wide, dangerous swath, their overlooked remnants bouncing, lying in wait to cut again and again.
Surveying the broken pieces – God’s perfect wisdom can be evidenced, if we ask for it. Laying it on parents’ hearts that their families aren’t complete. Matching empty, aching arms to squirmy little bodies. Giving workers the energy, intelligence and determination needed to overcome the myriad of adoption barriers each family faces. Nudging others to offer finanical help, or words of encouragement. Creating a family not born of flesh, but forged with the fire necessary to craft those broken pieces into a work of art, and a work in progress.
When I have been at my most low – when I have been broken – I have learned the most about He who created me – what I was supposed to do – whom I really was and am and could be. That learning has been painful at best and near debilitating at worst, with flashes of insight sparkling like broken glass along the empty corridors of long, dark nights.
I have learned - I know – I am Julia’s mother. Not because it was ever in God’s most perfect plan for me to be so. But because Jehovah - the one Sovereign Diety of what was and is and will be – is also the God of broken pieces.
Texas, Our Texas
Texas, our Texas, all hail the mighty state!
State Nickname: The Lone Star State
State Capital: Austin
State Bird: Mockingbird
State Tree: Pecan
State Flower: Bluebonnet
State Song: “Texas, Our Texas”
State Bruise?
This one on the back of my right leg, which has invited whistles, comments and questions from numerous guests of Costco, Wal-mart, HEB and Chick-Fil-A.
God bless you Texas! And keep you brave and strong,
That you may grow in power and worth, throughout the ages long.
Uhhh – yes. But here’s hoping this bruise and my horrific cold both decrease in power before the ages long. Sneeze. Cough. Oucchhh!
5Krazy
Kids. They make you do nutty things. Like when your eight-year-old brings home a school flyer for a 5K “Run for Cover” to raise funds for a playground shade and you say “Sure.” What was I thinking?! I’d never done a charity run in my life!
But now I have – with Julia and Hannah. Hannah consented to hang back with me, I suppose to call 911.
I finished. And I wasn’t last. I’m taking great pride in that. And surely I am to be commended for pulling in front of the little girl with leg braces, and the woman huffing with toddler twins in a double stroller.
And they’re off! The runners went first, followed by joggers, followed by plodders (that would be me.) There’s Julia in the middle. She finished first among the first grade girls, running almost all the way. We did three loops so she periodically waved as she flew by, encouraging me to “come on!”
Medalled Julia and her teacher – (the sainted) Ms. Jones – ran abreast most of the race. Ms. Jones is, I believe, 12 years old and wears a size 0. She has perfect skin, gleaming teeth, lovely handwriting and an infectious laugh. Putting those facts aside – I really like her.
Principal Terri Chidgey with Stone Oak Elementary winners. Ms. Chidgey has long amazed me with her leadership, organization and compassion. I think school principals today have more responsibility than the heads of many corporations. I don’t remember much about my elementary school principal except once she tried to stop me from running in the hall with my hand over my mouth and I – ummm – “decorated” her.
Call me “Yertle,” we finished! First-place Julia in 34:50; Hannah and me in 1:03:12.
Today was kool. My Sketchers are komfy. My 12-year-old was kind (to stay with me) My youngest can kick anyone’s whatever. And I am krazy. Yeah Baby – 5K’s.
