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My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

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We don’t do Santa

11.27.13

It started already–the Santa talk. I was out yesterday shopping with all four, and Lydia was convinced she needed this kit to paint a dinosaur. As I kept my cool and she was losing hers, a very sweet lady offered some help: “Oh, no, no, no. Why don’t you ask Santa for it?” which actually helped tremendously and not because it was a good option. Lydia quieted, stopped, and looked at me with eyes that were saying, “what up with the 60 year old lady telling me to ask a pretend person for this $2 craft kit?” I responded saying, “Lydia, it would make a nice Christmas gift. Who brings you gifts on Christmas?” “Ummm…Mama and Daddy?” I then very kindly turned to the woman and said, “We don’t actually do Santa in our family” to which she quieted, stopped, and looked at me with eyes that were saying, “What up with this 30 year old lady with a heart of stone?” (I was generous with the number 60, so why not be generous with my number, alright?)

So, yeah, we don’t do Santa in our house. (go ahead, get your gasps out now.)

why we don't do santaThe kids know that we shop for gifts for them, and we fill their stockings hung by the chimney with care. We tell the kids that some families like to play a game with their children, pretending that Santa is real and brings them gifts at Christmas. But, he’s just that, a game based on a really nice man who lived a long time ago named St. Nicholas who gave money to poor families.

We’re cool with him though. We still wave to him at the mall as we explain that it’s really a man dressed up like Santa. In fact, we’ve got one of those real-deal costumes ourselves in our cedar closet that my granddad used to wear. We’ve even got a mini version that Drew wears year round. We still read Twas the Night Before Christmas and sing along to Here Comes Santa Claus. But, we’ve just never been into the whole game for a handful of reasons.

* Keeping up the Santa story can distract us from talking about Jesus’ birth and the significance of the incarnation. Talking about the history of Santa is a great tool to talk about giving and compassion. Some families certainly do that really well. When we do talk with our kids about families who do the Santa thing, that’s what we focus on, never giving the impression that those families are somehow inferior or not as spiritual or something crazy like that. But, as our children get older, my desire for them to really understand the most significant demonstration of giving and compassion has grown. For me, playing the Santa game can mean more conversations about presents and traditions and less about who God is and the most amazing gift ever known.

* I know it can be fun, but it’s not truth. In fact, we know people who have created quite a Pinnochio-style web of lies to protect their children’s belief in Santa. As their children have started connecting the dots, the stories the parents have come up with to keep it all have gotten a wee bit silly. Perhaps it’s my overthinking coming into play, but we’d rather have our kids know they can totally trust us rather than build a complicated story that others reinforce which they later find out isn’t actually true. If we lie about Santa being real, would our children question whether we are lying about other things that are unseen? If we ask them to believe in a Santa they cannot see and they find out we have lied, will they doubt whether our testimony that God is real is true?

* We want our children to understand the value of the gifts they are given, from us or other family members, and recognize that some gifts are a real sacrifice financially and have taken a lot of effort. We want them to learn gratefulness for this sacrifice. While I know Santa can be used as a picture of generosity, telling our children that Santa gave them their gifts instead of the family member who lost his job that year but still figured out how to give them a gift or the cousin who is young and used her allowance to buy just the right little thing takes away from their understanding of generosity and sacrifice.

* We do not want them to fall prey to a works mentality. We’ve all heard it–“Stop that or else Santa will put you on the naughty list!” We don’t want our children to think that blessings depend solely on whether they have been good or bad. We want them to understand what grace is–God’s unmerited favor, kindness from God that we don’t deserve. There is nothing we have done or can ever do to earn this favor. The classic lesson that “being bad” may put them on the “naughty list,” translating into less presents or a lump of coal could really hinder their understanding of grace.

It’s how we do things here. But, we respect that others do things differently–especially those who have overthought it all as I have and have come to a different conclusion. Some families really know how to do Santa well and still teach generosity, compassion, and grace as they do it. And, I know friends who have fond memories of leaving out milk and cookies and all that and want to give their kiddos the same. I get that. We’ve got some traditions we can’t let go of too. And, don’t worry–we tell the kids that some families really like the game. They have strict instructions not to tell other kids that Santa isn’t real in case their families are playing the game.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Celebrations, Traditions, words about faith

First fruits and blessing

11.24.13

I said okay to God a few weeks ago. He had been gently leading me for a while, but His voice got a little bit louder and my fatigue made me a bit more apt to listen. My time spent with God, reading His Word and praying, had become somewhat fruitlessly productive. It was getting done just like my trips to the grocery store and laundry was getting done. A few weeks ago, I heard him say pretty loud and clear: Enough. Enough with a spiritual to-do list. I’ve asked you for your first fruits.

I responded boldly, setting my phone to broadcast Jason Mraz singing to me “I’m Yours…” at 5:45 am everyday. I stumble downstairs in the dark and start my mixed decaf/full-on energy pumpkin coffee and sit down alone with an open Bible at a kitchen table that is pretty much a stranger to quiet.

Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
in whose heart are the highways to Zion.
As they go through the Valley of Baca
they make it a place of springs;
the early rain also covers it with pools.

Screen Shot 2013-11-24 at 3.07.35 PMAt 6am, when the children’s eyes are still peacefully closed, I’ve been getting rained on until I feel like there are pools of His grace around me. The quiet doesn’t last too long—there are no soft pitter patters here anymore; I think everything in these four small to medium sized bodies seeks to squelch out peace and quiet. The race called my day begins, my to-do list calls, things come up daily that demand my attention that can’t even wait long enough to make it my to-do list. And, I just have been doing my best to keep drawing on that early rain of grace that pooled up around me in the early morning when I sat alone with Him.

Over these same last few weeks, I’ve noticed something else. Issues. More than normal. Stuff. Uncomfortable stuff. Hard conversations. Moments that made me throw my hands in the air. A lot more reasons to sigh.

There I was, still “swimming in my pools of grace” and saying, “Seriously, God? But, I’ve been obeying? I’ve been spending time with you. I’ve been waking up early even when I’m tired and reading your Word. I’ve been doing what you want me to do. I don’t get it.”

And, boom. 

There I was, confronted with my own pride, my own ick, the shameful realization that there is still some part of me holding onto the idea that God and I are somehow peers and that if I do something for Him, He’ll do something for me, that my acts of obedience warrant some sort of blessing to me defined simply by the absence of trouble. Ugh.

God spoke to me again. This time, His voice was a whisper. There were no “enoughs” or rhetorical questions. Just a gentle word firmly spoken:

I didn’t lead you to give me your first fruits so that I could bless you as if I work only within some sort of contractual relationship with you of give and take. If I only blessed you when you held up your side of that agreement in obedience to me, you’d be in trouble way more significant than what you have experienced lately. I led you to give me your first fruits so that I could prepare you for what you would face, so that you would be ready and you’d experience my blessing in spite of the trouble, in the midst of the Valleys of Baca and the distractions that could have pulled your heart away.

Bring on the hot pumpkin coffee and dark mornings at my crayon-decorated kitchen table.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: words about faith

I can’t wait any longer; he can’t wait any longer. {Advocating}

11.15.13

Qui Le 3

I can’t wait any longer.

On June 22, 2012, I posted his picture on Facebook. I fell for him hard. Paper ready and waiting since 2009 and I could not figure out why. He wasn’t abandoned at birth; he needed medical care that his family clearly couldn’t handle. He had a tumor on his kidney. The orphanage stepped up, got him the care he needed. Today, he is healthy except for one very big special need that none of us can overlook—he needs a family.

There was a family who had locked his file. In fact, he waited for them for a year and was prepared for them coming—as much as orphanage staff typically do with care packages and such. They went to China this summer; sadly, they did not come home with a son. They received him and had him with them at their hotel for over a week but ultimately decided they would escort him back to the orphanage and come home.

My heart was broken. There were no words I could offer to change anything about it. Believe me, I tried. I grieved hard. It hurt, and I have tried over the last several months to put his images aside, to forget those big dark eyes, to uncurl his fingers from around my heart and move on.

But, he hasn’t. So, I can’t.

This boy has experienced things a 7 year old boy should never experience. He’s fought for his life. He’s endured chemotherapy and all that comes with that by himself. Over the years, he’s likely learned that the only one he can trust is himself and that has impacted his response to the world. But, his heart can heal just as his body has healed. He is not without hope.

Amy Eldredge of Love Without Boundaries shared a story of an older orphan boy who had watched two of his friends leave to become sons and return to the orphanage later to become orphans once again. When asked what adoption was, he replied, “Adoption is when a family takes you home and then brings you back to the orphanage.”

I cannot wait any longer; he shouldn’t wait any longer. This boy is not currently available for adoption; once the family who was his for a year returned him, he hasn’t been made available to another. He needs a family to pursue him, go after him, commit to finding him and bringing him home no matter what. I’m told that if a family pursues, his paperwork will be found.

His name means Autumn Joy.

Qui Le 2 Qui Le

 

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Advocating

Rachel Crow. {Sorry, you missed the best part}

11.12.13

Hi. I got to talk to a rockstar from my living room. I know, cool, right?

I prepared my questions and was all ready to go. Sweet Rachel Crow, she listened, she seemed genuinely honored to have some 37-year-old mother of four ask her questions. Yeah, she humored me.

For 8 minutes and 28 seconds, we talked adoption.

And, while the recorded interview is one worth watching, all of you missed the best part. Sorry.

At the end of the interview, this 37-year-old inexperienced interviewer stayed on the line. And, I’m just going to put this right on out there, apparently, no one realized I was there. My “Hello? Hello? I’m still here?”s didn’t mean much when they had me muted.

Then, the best part of whole interview happened (without me, mind you).

Rachel started talking to her mom.

Can you hear me? Could you see me? How did I do?

Oh, honey, you did great. You are doing just great. Good job.

…

There I was, totally eavesdropping, waiting for someone interview-official of some sort to come on and tell me, “You can hang up now.” I had no idea what I was doing. But, what I heard over the next couple minutes as I waited (until I realized I was beginning to look creepy) truly was the best part of the whole interview. I heard a daughter, inviting her mother in, asking her for help, looking for the pat on the back. I heard a mother, present and interested, who didn’t want to be anywhere else but in that studio watching her daughter talk to complete strangers and sharing hard stuff, giving her gentle feedback, providing exactly what she needed.

THAT is the interview for foster care and adoption I’m sharing with you even though there’s nothing to show you, no recording, no transcript.

Foster care and adoption, the brokenness that they start with–that’s hard stuff. But, the relationship and reconciliation and redemption that they bring about–that’s what this month is all about.

Thank you, Rachel and Rachel’s mom, for a beautiful 2-3 minute interview that I was only an eavesdropper for.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption

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