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My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

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Teaching Sacrifice {what, why, how}

12.16.12

Well, I’m sorry. You can’t keep playing wii. We’re going to our friend’s house as a family. You need to learn how to sacrifice what you want sometimes.

I know you want to buy that game, but you also need to buy some gifts yet. You’re going to have to sacrifice what you want so that you can buy the gifts you want to give.

I know you both want that toy. I see that clearly. Why don’t you make the decision this time to sacrifice a little and let her have it?

Sacrifice. The act of giving up something valuable to you whether it be time, treasure, or desire for the sake of something else regarded as more important or worthy.

We all want our children to learn to sacrifice. But, I confess that I’ve made a mistake as I’ve led my children. I’ve focused too much on the act of giving up something valuable.

The truth is–true sacrifice is costly. That is what makes it a sacrifice after all. If giving something up costs us nothing, it isn’t a sacrifice by definition. When we give away a box of things to someone who can use them, if we didn’t like them, couldn’t wear them, and/or couldn’t sell them, it’s really not a sacrifice. Sacrifice hurts–sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. The cost is felt regardless.

But, true sacrifice also reaps a gain. Call it counterintuitive; but, it’s true. There is more to sacrifice than simply the pain. We don’t just sacrifice to play the martyr. We empty ourselves of time, treasure, or desire for the sake of something greater. Sacrifice is purposeful. Our sacrifices produce change. The hearts of others around us are changed, even when we don’t see it. And, our hearts are also changed in the process. And, changed hearts means changed lives. When we make hard choices of sacrifice, somehow God works in our hearts in such a way that pride and self-centeredness become less without us even knowing it, and our love for others grows. The something greater is softened hearts, healed relationships, and changed lives.

I’ve erred by focusing too much on their cost–give it up, let her have it, give in this time. But, the truth is, they are on the receiving end all the time of the sacrifice of others. I know that full well, and I want them to know that. Their gifts under the tree at our house and the trees at their aunts and uncles and grandparents’ houses–they are tangible reminders of sacrifice. The gifts may be just what they wanted or maybe not at all what they wanted. But, every scotch-taped together package with paper they get to rip, it has their name on it, written on a tag as an act of sacrifice–it costs someone something whether that cost seems great to us or not, and it reaps a gain. Every gift is a blessing, blessing them in one way or another and the gift giver when they show him or her their gratitude.

I know that’s not the view of the masses. Maybe people find it reminiscent of the I-brought-you-into-this-world.-I-can-take-you-out-of-it mentality. One person commented on one of my previous posts where I talked about my kids understanding sacrifice with this:

I don’t agree that children should be aware of their parents’ sacrifices for their Christmas presents. . . . No child should be made to feel guilty for their Christmas presents, and no parent should want them to feel that way.

This is not about feeling guilty. I want them to know that people have made the choice that blessing them is more important or worthy.

Isn’t that what advent is about? 

We’re reading The Jesus Storybook Bible for advent this year (here’s the plan we’re following). Early on, we read about Noah. We read all about sacrifice there.

The first thing Noah did was to thank God for rescuing them, just as he had promised. And the first thing God did was make another promise. ‘I won’t ever destroy the world again.’ And like a warrior who puts away his bow and arrow at the end of a great battle, God said, ‘See, I have hung up my bow in the clouds.’ And there, in the clouds–just where the storm meets the sun–was a beautiful bow made of light. It was a new beginning in God’s world. It wasn’t long before everything went wrong again but God wasn’t surprised, he knew this would happen. That’s why, before the beginning of time, he had another plan–a better plan. A plan not to destroy the world, but to rescue it–a plan to one day send his own Son, the Rescuer. God’s strong anger against hate and sadness and death would come down once more–but not on his people, or his world. No, God’s war bow was not pointing down at his people. It was pointing up, into the heart of Heaven.

It’s because of His sacrifice, His costly and purposeful sacrifice for us that we know we are loved and we are able to love others and make the choice to sacrifice.

Maybe I should make a few changes. They are subtle, but I think there’s a whole different message. And, maybe the result and the process to get there would look different.

I’m sorry. You can’t keep playing wii. We’re going to our friend’s house as a family. I know it’s hard to sacrifice what you want sometimes; I know that myself because it’s hard for me too. But, I promise you that it’s worth it. It may not feel like it when you feel upset now, but going to our friend’s house together now is more important than playing wii? Maybe later we can talk about why that is.

I know you want to buy that game, but you also need to buy some gifts yet. You may have to sacrifice what you want so that you can buy the gifts you want to give. That isn’t easy. I had to do that too this year. But, you know what? I don’t really miss that thing that I gave up in order to buy the gifts I bought for others. And, I can’t wait to give those gifts this year especially the ones that I put a lot of heart into.

I know you both want that toy. I see that clearly. Why don’t you make the decision this time to sacrifice and let her have it? It is hard to do that, but it shows her how much you love her. And, next time, she will be more willing to sacrifice for you. That’s what being a family is about, sacrificing for each other all the time.

No related posts.

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

Where is He?

12.15.12

I have a friend who was suffering this morning. Knowing she was in pain, as I prayed for her, I texted her this verse:

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in Spirit. Psalm 34:18


It was only minutes later that I heard the news and began to realize the great number of broken hearts today.

Where is He? How do I reconcile this to my children?

He is near. 

We’ve read everyday this month of His love story, of broken people who need a rescuer and the rescuer who gives everything to draw us near. That’s what advent is–His coming near. And, that is what we must cling to.

Evan, Ashlyn, Drew, and Lydia, I want you to know this.

No, this isn’t what God wanted for His children. This was not His design. I don’t understand why this happened. We don’t get it. You may hear things at school next week about what happened today. You may hear stories from other kids. Some may try to joke about it just because they don’t know what else to say about it. And, that’s not okay. Because this is really bad, and there are many many people with broken hearts right now because of what happened today. It’s bad, and our world is so broken that it makes our chests hurt. The depth of sin is so deep. And, our need for a savior is nothing short of urgent.

Know He is near.

Know He is so sad.

And, know He somehow brings peace where there is chaos in His timing. I don’t know how. We can’t imagine it sometimes. But, He somehow does it because He loves us with a never ending love that is way bigger than we can ever even imagine, deeper than the biggest ocean, bigger than the biggest mountain.

He is near to the brokenhearted. He could be nowhere else. He’s all about broken hearts.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: words about faith

Preparing {our Christmas tree}

12.12.12

Here it is. A day we mark on our calendars well in advance. The tradition we live out every year to climb on the back of a tractor, saw in hand, and hunt down the perfect tree. Evan seems to have a knack for it as he carefully examines branches and needles, height and shape, shaking his head at our suggestions and then guarding his own until we ultimately come back around to the one he chose. 
It’s tradition. And, it’s good fun to yell timber as our 6 ft. tower of evergreen slowly crashes, always softer than the kids wish it would. Even fighting them to try to get a fun picture brings smiles to our faces.
As much fun as hayrides and pine tree hunting and free hot cocoa and cookies are, we don’t cut down a tree, remove it from where it’s lived for 7 years so that it can die in our living room for fun. 
Advent. It means coming. When something big is coming, preparation is required. And, we have been preparing. With every step of preparation, there is a grander sense of what is coming. 
As we prepare our home and prepare our gifts, our hearts are moved to prepare as well. And, that’s why we do what we do. We’re preparing our hearts for the incarnation, the coming of the great rescuer. 
We’ve been reading about Him every night at dinner and seeing glimpses of hearts that are more readily letting go of the consumerism that consumes during this season and instead grasping a story, the grandest story of all time, and starting to see that they’re a part of it.

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

I think I met an angel this morning

12.7.12

Every weekday morning for the last several weeks, I’ve dropped the kids off at school and then called the JFK mail sorting center. I somehow got a back number I wasn’t really supposed to have to begin with. The first time I called, someone answered. I told him my problem; he said he’d look into it and call me back. Every morning since, it’s gone to voice mail and I’ve left the same message.

Hi, this is Kelly Raudenbush again. I’m really hoping you will help me and call me back. The package I’m looking for was sent from Nairobi, Kenya. It was mailed in September. It arrived at your facility and was scanned on October 16th at 10pm but hasn’t been scanned at all since then. It has to be there somewhere. Please, please, do what you can to find it and give me a call back to let me know the status at ###-###-####.

But, I never heard back. And, nothing on the online status of the package had changed. Mary’s post office in Kenya told her they did their job to get it here and that the reason I wasn’t getting it was because the post office was on strike. I assured her that wasn’t the case, but she didn’t get anywhere with getting them to help. Thousands of dollars worth of goods we were hoping to sell during the Christmas season so that we could send money again to these women, and the package was lost.

I prayed for that online status to change each day when I tried it again and again. Others were praying with me as well. But, we were resigned that it may have been stolen or lost for good. Earlier this week, I wired Mary a little bit of money and asked her to prepare another box to ship which she did on Tuesday. It wouldn’t get here in time for Christmas, but at least we’d have some new things come January.

My mail arrived as normal this morning–some cards, some bills, a small package of a gift ordered.

About an hour later, the doorbell rang.

I went to the door and found a man about 50 years old standing in the rain dressed in a suit–a coat, nice pants, a dress shirt, and a tie. At his feet was a very large box with my name on it.

I opened the door stunned, knowing right away that this was the box we had been praying would be found…at JFK sorting center.

“Good morning, ma’am. I have a package here for you if you’d just sign here.”

“Where did you get this? We’ve been looking for it for weeks, waiting for it for months?”

“Well, it just got here for you.”

“What? But?….Who are you?”

“I’m a supervisor for the post office. I personally brought this by for you since it was so heavy for your regular mailman.”

[who has delivered every other box just like this with no problem, mind you]

“What? It’s still saying on the computer that it is at JFK? I just called about this? I’ve been checking? I was told it hadn’t even gone through customs yet? I’m so confused.”

“Well, I’m glad it got here for Christmas.”

“Well, yeah! Wow…Are you an angel?” [Yes, I seriously asked him that.]

He chuckled then offered to carry the box into the house for me.

Then, I signed, and he went back to his plain old, normal, unmarked car and drove away.

And, I remained in the sunroom stunned and then ripped into the box to see what treasures Mary sent this time.

No related posts.

Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: The Sparrow Fund, words about faith

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