A Worthy Life

a better plan

The Plan was to write them each a letter, one at the beginning of every new year, to be compiled in a notebook exclusively theirs. Their papa and I would write them, desires and hopes and prayers and encouragements and challenges each uniquely customized for each precious child we call ours. Further, the plan was to write them sometime in the quiet and still moments of our holiday pause from school and work and commitments and obligations.

Except that pause never happened.

With emergency renos and a bout of The Mysterious Plague That Ails Me, there was only fast forwards to complete essential constructions before Christmas and crunch time pushed to full throttle in a schedule full of holiday appointments and a myriad of hosting responsibilities.

So, we failed in our execution of The Plan and, at the beginning of 2013, I went instead on my first date of the year with my eldest daughter Eliana.

She ordered a hot chocolate then a vanilla steamer then an apple fritter before contenting herself with an orange juice and coffee cake and I had what every person of discerning taste has when at a coffee shop - tea.

We settled in nicely together, tucked in the corner on a little round table with our drinks and treats and notebook between. I had a New Plan, one I secretly wondered if it wasn't all together so much better than the original. We would fill this notebook together, me and mine (and him and his), in dates shared together through the years.

Sure, there would be dreams and desires but they wouldn't be mine alone. She would speak hers, I would voice mine for her and we would scribble each in pages blotted with rings of tea and smears of sugar crumbs. There would be favorites and jokes and questions and fears and we would share them all in moments stolen from the hurry and flurry of our lives quick passing.

And this, I think, is A Better Plan - a far, far, far better plan. Because while I often imagine that I know these little ones and conjecture as to their futures and ways they might go, I am still only student, learning as they lead with their choices and interests. We, the papa and this mama, have so much we desire for them, so much we aspire to pass on to them, and yes, certainly instincts and perceptions that come through our daily observation of them.

But we, parent and child, are together yet on this journey of life for some years more and I don't want to miss a thing because I was blinded by my own vision or was marching to the beat of my personal agenda.

I want to script their lives and my role in it with goals and plans and actions we form in words spoken in the company of each other.

It wasn't The Original Plan.

But for the excuse it gives my husband and I to carve out priority of individual time with each miniature us, it is a much better plan. Maybe even The Perfect Plan.

beautiful people

Selena stood Sunday on a stage in front of thousands. She patiently listened to her introduction, demure in her waiting. Black hair, dark eyes downcast. She wasn't there for her glory - she went for His.

My daughter often gets told she looks like Selena. Selena Gomez. The tween tv actress, teen apparel capitalist, and emerging movie/music star has similar dark brown hair, wide brown eyes, and pint sized figure. She performs before thousands, is seen on the big and small screen by millions, and isn't known to shun the spotlight. My daughter hates the comparison, partially because she deplores any association with tween fads and probably because she wishes she was more known for being her than being someone else's look-alike.

But if I had to choose, and I hope if my daughter were given the choice, the first Selena I mentioned is the one I'd prefer she emulate.

This Selena is an older woman, not much in her beauty or her composure to garner attention. She appears meek and quiet, speaking only to tell God's story at work through her hands and feet going where very few have gone before. Her life and journey remains largely unnoticed as she spends these few weeks in Canada before returning to the years already invested in Cambodia. There she runs three different programs for the disadvantaged and disregarded, the headquarters of her work the same as where she lays her head for the night.

Her moments on stage were brief. There were many in the audience who probably have already forgotten her only two days since. But this woman, this is the role model I want my girls to watch and to imitate. Hers is the kind of story I want them to write with their life choices.

It might not require of them a going, it might not require huge sacrifice and harsh environments.

But it will require that they exercise a voice for grace and truth. It will require the courage to stand before others, perhaps one on one or to a clamoring crowd, and sing of the glories of their God and King.

Such a life pays little dividends in the here and now. But such a life will be rewarded with beauty -"How beautiful are the feet of those who bring the good news!"

And it will resound with the triumphant cheers of heaven's hosts welcoming the lost that they helped to lead to the eternal home of Him who loves them so.

As my girls walk the paths God lays before each of them, I pray that they will dare to be those Selenas whose beauty only continues to emerge through the long years as, by their example, they lead many souls to glory.

a letter to my daughters on this, the day of the girl

my dear daughters,

today, the world is your oyster. the world which you woke up to this morning is one with infinitely more opportunities and freedoms and rights than ever before enjoyed by any other generation of women.

the world is your oyster, an oyster which other women with sword and voice and sacrifice have opened. they were women bold enough, strong enough, and crazy enough to envision a better world for the girls in their lives than the one they themselves could claim.

your oyster is your world. you live in a microcosm where, for the most part, you are safe and protected. you are surrounded by family and friends, institutions of government and guardians that will fight to ensure that you have permission and authority to make of your life whatever you will. you have options, you have education, you have rights - you have the world in your hands.

the world is not always just the same as your oyster. there is injustice and inequality, atrocities done every day to and against girls who are not protected by the same love and laws and liberties that you and I enjoy today.

let that world enter your oyster today. listen to the cry of malala in pakistan who advocated for the education of girls, at great cost to herself. open your eyes to the pain that mayanti bears in india as her entire family urges her to kill her newly born twin daughters because there, girls are nothing more than a burden and therefore disposable. remember our dear friend in vietnam who told us of her young charge whose beauty could only serve to imprison her as a slave for the vices of wicked men? let their stories and their lives get inside of yours. let your voices become one as you bear testimony to the girls of the world who do not yet live inside the safety of an oyster such as yours.

open wide your oyster to the world. let the truth invade your cocoon of sanctuary and shelter. educate yourselves on the girls of this world. ruminate on the realities of your fellow sisters and let it disturb and frustrate and agitate you to action. be ones bold enough, strong enough, selfless enough, and yes, crazy enough to believe that you can change their worlds.

let your arms be an oyster of protection to the girls of your world. provide others a place of refuge when you can. spend your time and resources and energies to ensure that others can come under the same shelter of your privilege and opportunity.

let your voice be the irritant that won't let others of this world shrink back within the relative safety of their own microcosms. open their eyes, open their ears with your example of sacrifice and dedication to the cause of emancipation and equality of all girls everywhere.

let your life bear witness to the beauty and strength and fearlessness of girls born in the oyster that is our world. in your dress, in your pursuits, in your spending, in your pleasures, let it be known that you are a girl of the world, for the world, with the world.

alone in your oyster, you are safe and free and able.

but if, my precious girls, you will allow their worlds to enter yours, and as you do so, raise such a ruckus that others begin to take notice and join your chorus of freedom and justice for all girls, you will have become a generation that is not afraid of what is unseemly and that won't shrink back in self-preservation.

and as you live and labor, girls upon girls will come together over what once were only the grave and shocking realities in the lives of malala and mayanti and millions more just like them. and underneath your layers of love and service and advocacy, these girls will be healed and delivered and empowered and from their pasts of darkness, burst forth as, no longer so rare, precious and beautiful.

and you will have become the mothers of pearls.

the world is your oyster. what will you make of it?

u.b.u.

Little sisters often want to be like their big ones.

They are used to walking in the shadow of someone older, more experienced, and therefore more able in many ways.

It's hard to be the little sister, wanting to do what your big one can. When observing her abilities, you try to copy her every move in attempt to achieve the same results.

Sometimes it can be difficult to break out of her shadow and be true to you, to let your personal growth speak for itself, especially when it's speaking a different language.

Baby girl, you were given a voice shared by no one else. Your eyes, they see the world in a way that few others do. You dance to the beat of a different drummer. You hear music in your head that shares the same words as ours but somehow comes out new every time you sing it. Your joy is provoked by passions unique to you, your sorrows from fears we cannot always see or understand.

Let these things inspire you. Let the emotions and provocations that are yours and yours alone flow forth from you in their own way. Never stop to compare yourself to her, don't be tempted to copy what she has created, and dismiss that lie that suggests that she is somehow better than you.

You and she are different.

She is doing her splendidly.

Now, you be you, do you. And blow the socks off of our world with the beauty and passion that only you can create.

dear kiddos,

There's a saying people use: "when dreams take flight." Today mine did - literally. I have dreamed of this opportunity for so long, almost as many years as each of yours.

My dream? A trip with your papa, my husband. Because while you've only ever known us as your parents, there was a day when we weren't. We were just us - friends first and then husband and wife. There's a reason why people decide to move on from a friendship to something eternally more. We decided that we could not live without the other, did not want to live with out the other, so special was our connection and love. Only nine months after I moved to live with my new husband in Canada, our family grew to include a child and soon three more. You have enriched our lives times infinity and the moments and years together have been so blessed. They've been busy and full, challenging and rewarding and, as you'll someday learn firsthand when you become parents, there's never been a moment or a day off. I guess that's what this is, a time off for the mama and the papa to just be man and wife. A time to concentrate on our beginnings, the days when it was just me and papa and our love for each other.

My dream took the the skies and as the plane soared, so too did my spirit. I was so eager to meet up with my best friend and husband.

Every moment of today I have imagined you with me, looking out the window, thousands of feet above the ground, chattering excitedly over my lunch of a burger and fries, and sleeping silently on the third connection to my final destination. As promised, here are pictures I took for you:

1. Flying over Lake Michigan 2. Flying above the clouds, looking at the teeny, tiny land below 3. Dips and plateaus in the Southwest US 4. Where the hills and vastness meet civilization 5. Skyline of Chicago, I waved to all our friends there! 6. Houses, roads, and trees from a bird's eye view

Thanks for your notes! I'm sure you're having the time of your life but remember...just don't have too much fun without me! ;o)

Always thinking of you, Mama

dear kiddos,

Your bags are packed and ready by the door. Necessities like clothes and unmentionables, toothbrushes, and your special blankies bulge from within their confined spaces.

A week of sleepovers, that's where you're headed. The countdown began less than 20 days ago and now the final day is upon us and you can't sleep because of your excitement. "Just one more sleep?!"

I feel like you are leaving me. So great is your excitement and anticipation that you barely pause to consider the separation that is to come between us. The truth is though that I am leaving you. But just for a week. To catch some sleeps alone with papa, some sleeping ins with papa, and lots of much needed time alone with papa. 

As revved up as I am about this time off from early mornings and midnight cries, I know I will crave your faces first thing when I wake up and miss responding to your sweet calls for my attention. Saying goodbye is easier for papa since he travels away from home often on business. But for me, you are my business. Responding to your needs is my first priority and withdrawals are sure to set in as I rise to seek only my own desires. While I take in the sights I am sure to marvel at the beauty and grandeur around me but I will be thinking how much I wish you could share it with me.

So, my solution is simple. Since you are not coming with me, I have decided to bring the sights and sounds and experiences to you here, as best as can be shared through words and pictures. Each day that I am gone, I will write to you and tell you all about our travels and our adventures. By capturing moments and emotions with the expectation of sharing it with you, it will almost feel as if you are with me.

Tomorrow we're off. You to homes that will temporarily provide you all the love and devotion that you receive at home. Me to places I have longed to see and for a special time with papa that I have longed for. But as I go, I will frame the moments for you so that you can see just how mama's carry their children always in their hearts, whether near or far.

From mama, with love.