#TBT. Such a creative concept. We all love seeing our friends’ photos from the 80s with big bangs or our high school prom pictures resurrected The more I marinated on this concept it made me realize I would like to start digging up some of my most favorite blogs. They are not quite vintage but old enough that I am needing reminders of their message. (Today I assumed the worst about someone and it got ugly!) I realized I might have even written a blog about such matters? And thus the concept of ThrowBackBlogs was birthed.
So You’re Mad at Me, I’m Lazy, and My Kids are Rude?
A dear friend of mine recently spent time with one of my favorite people on the planet…my therapist. Paula characterized my friend’s outlook on life by simply saying: “You are a negative framer.” Negative Framer, hmmm, the words settled deep. It seemed all too familiar. I realized in that moment, I myself was a recovering negative framer. Continue reading
The Epic Adventure is Over
I am tired of telling sad stories. Though at times therapeutic, telling your story makes it real, concrete, and final.
Recently, Grief has knocked heavily upon my door. She has been a constant visitor and one I have shrugged off for almost a year. Strength has been my best friend. She has cheered me and journeyed with me each step of this Epic Adventure. Grief was not welcomed or wanted. Nor did I have any time to entertain her. There were children to bathe, clothes and dishes to wash (by hand mind you)–and there were stories to be read and boo boos to kiss. I kept Grief at bay. Even at the “end” of our journey with our Ugandan kiddos…(if you missed that chapter you can learn more about it here)…Grief was not invited to the party because Hope had made her way to the forefront of the story line. Hope was carrying a banner waving, “Justice.” Her message comforted me. But a few weeks ago Heartbreak and Sorrow delivered a message of gut-wrenching proportion. They said that the two little ones we thought we protected and placed into good hands were actually taken back by Evil hands…ones not to be trusted. Trafficking hands that were protected by the police and bribery and social status. Reunification failed. Corruption, culture, and paternal biological “rights” all took precedence over the lives of precious little ones I love.
Four Letter Words for the Suffering…
100 Cups has been a bit on the heavy side lately. Some might be thinking, “get over it already…figure it out…this is depressing…give me some good news or something happy to read.” Others have navigated these deep waters, get it, and know this is a healing, therapeutic platform. The subject (however unhappy) effects us all at one point or another. No one is immune to suffering; and therefore I find it crucial to share.
This blog is all-inclusive. For those who are currently walking through hard things…this is for you. For those who have loved ones enduring hardship…this is for you. For those who have walked alongside our family–this is a sincere thank you for loving us so well with just the right words and actions! Continue reading
Making Sense of Something that DOESN’T…
To describe many of the days last week in words is to describe an unpleasant picture. Chris Cockerham (aka Mr. Positive) would say, “Jenni has not been at her best.” I was discouraged…unsure how to begin to take in all of the new information concerning “our” Ugandan kiddos–and their current/future status. Trying–but failing to make sense of it all. How does one make sense of something that simply doesn’t?
This side of heaven…human pain and suffering may never fully make sense.
Str-UGH-a-ling
When an author writes a book she typically has a story to tell, but also has already journeyed down a certain path, turned the proverbial corner, and she is writing her story in the past tense. The author then is able to insert insight, humorous antidotes, and wisdom gleaned from her bumps and bruises. The book, if well-written, is polished, clean, and read-able. It gives the page-turner a distinct joy having been a part of a shared experience.
Blogs are messy. The author does not have the luxury of knowing the “end” of the story. He or she typically writes as the story as it is unraveling…and as in life…there is no guarantee the story will end well. The author does not have weeks, months, or years to reflect on the story. Uniquely blogs are happening in real time and so the reader is actually given the opportunity to process along with the writer…forming his or her own conclusions. Celebrating and grieving with the author.
Re-Rooted…
Growing up my parents had a garden. The black Indiana soil was more than accommodating for a beginning gardener. As an adult I desired to do more of the same, but found that the North Carolina red clay was not as inviting. Being a lover of all things fruit and veg I found this a bit disheartening. Nevertheless, several summers ago, a few herbs as well as tomatoes and peppers found their way in to potting soil and away we went.
My Prayers Aren’t Big Enough…
Not my typical blog post…I almost didn’t post it for fear that I just couldn’t hear my voice in the text. But it is a story worth telling, so grab a cup of coffee and let’s hang out!
About 3 weeks ago I started to feel a little flu-ish with a touch of fever and headache. I walked myself to the clinic and sure enough tested positive for the infamous…malaria.
Later I found out it was severe malaria–like the kind that kills people. Of course it was. I couldn’t have the cute simple-to- treat malaria. In Uganda we seem to like to go big or go home…and typically we just go big.
Rakes, Breaks and the Messes We Makes…
My grandma lived through the great depression. She was one of the most resourceful people I have ever met. She reused and recycled everything. She would put her ziploc bags through the dish washer. She was hard core…and I used to think a tad extremist.
Here in Uganda I see a similar type of resourcefulness. I have watched things break and typically when we (westerners) would jump in the car and run out to Target or Home Depot…my Ugandan friends…re-use, recycle, and repair the problem.
Living five hours from a legit grocery store…there is no quick trip to Walmart, therefore we have had to become quite thrifty…and I am better for it. It all started back in Kampala when I saw Godffrey fixing his red rake that had broken in 1/2. Instead of running in to the store for a new one…a well deserved new one…as he rakes the lawn every day with a very questionable and rickety rake; on that beautiful spring day I found him cutting piping to put his rake back together.
Living Out Loud
Sometimes when you live out loud a.k.a. share your world via facebook…real life hits hard and you wonder what there is to say? You feel the need to say more or less or “like” what others have to say about your story. Sometimes we need to simply heal and that includes more quiet and less input or output. But over the past few days I realized that in doses social media is a good place to celebrate the life we live. Just read this quote and it makes loads of sense to me:
“Here’s the truth about telling stories with your life. It’s going to sound like a great idea, and you’re going to get excited about it, and then when it comes time to do the work, you’re not going to want to do it. It’s like that with writing books, and it’s like that with life. People love to have lived a great story, but few people like the work it takes to make it happen. But joy costs pain.” – Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand New Years Day
The Most Elaborate Foster Plan Ever Orchestrated…
Truth sets you free.
Over the past 10 months we have done our best to teach Caroline and Jonathan to LOVE truth.
A few weeks ago Jonathan approached Chris and said, “Caroline, I think we should tell dad the truth…”
This began what was every adoptive families’ worst nightmare and best dream.
100 Cups of Coffee 