A Peppermint Christmas Party

This post is coming quite late, but I still wanted to share it with you...

For the past few years, it has been my joy to host a Christmas party for our South Bay staff family. Andy said it well when he told our staff, "Stacie expresses love through acts of service. So every bow that's been tied and ribbon that's been glued is an expression of how much she loves each of you." That is truly how I feel. Do not let these pictures deceive you; I am so NOT a crafty person. I don't even enjoy it and would never do it in my "free time" as a hobby. But there is ONE occasion that makes me want to bust out a hot glue gun... when I'm doing something to show love to someone else.

Words could never express how deeply I love our staff. We have been through so much together. I watch them as they dream dreams, work diligently, serve wholeheartedly, lead with integrity, and love Jesus from the core of who they are. They are each passionate about leading people to say yes to Jesus and passionate that their area of ministry will be done with excellence. We are a team. We are a family.  

As I glued peppermints and cut ribbon, I said prayers for each of their lives. During this season of my homeschooling-full-time-mommy life, I don't get to rub shoulders with them throughout the week as much as I'd like. But I want them each to know that I am fiercely loyal to them and so thankful for each of their families. 

I got the idea for the table decor from this website. There is even a tutorial for 

how to make the placemats and the center piece. I tried to stick with a peppermint theme.

Name flags courtesy of Sanli

Our dinner was catered by Caterman Catering and I was extremely 

pleased with their service, display, and the food! 

They even did a kids' bar of chicken nuggets and mac & cheese, much to my boys' 

delight. The adults, on the other hand, enjoyed much more sophisticated food than that!

Inspiration for the dessert table came from this website. 

Candy cane shaped brownies with peppermint patties mixed into the batter. 

These were surprisingly tedious to cut out and probably would have looked better 

if they had been iced with red and white icing (but ya gotta draw the line somewhere). 

As they were, I thought it kinda looked like a plate full of 7's. Andy assured me 

that you could tell they were supposed to be candy canes!

Now THIS was divine!!! White Chocolate Peppermint Bark Cheesecake. 

So good. I found the recipe here. 

These adorable cupcakes were baked by my fabulous friend, Gennie. Too cute!

Ghirardelli Peppermint Bark

(for all you non-Bay Area folk, did you know Ghirardelli chocolate originated here?)

Brad, Laura, Ella, Kendall, David, & Tim

(we included our advisory team this year as well)

Tina, Filipe, Lily, Cailyn, Mandy, (Efraim- can't see him), Archie, & Rebekah

Cindy, Alan, David, Karl, Connor, Vivian, Renan, & Juliane

Jarrin, Trevor, Tony, Sanli, Jennalene, Lucy, Liam (sleeping in the stroller!), & Jack

Sammy, Andy, Jerry, Adrienne, Teagan, Stacy, & Caedmon

This year our gift exchange had the theme of "home accessories". 

David was pretty stoked about his quesadilla maker! :-)

No, Ella was not one of the gifts we were exchanging. :-)

Highlight of the night: when Andy was sharing with the kids 

what a valuable part of the South Bay team they are... 

...and then watching them tear into their presents! Loved that.

Our big family photo! 

Beyond What's Broken

A few weeks ago I said to Andy, "Why does there seem to be so many people suffering right now?"

Several things have happened that just hit too close to home...

• A worship pastor is hit by a car while riding his bike. He dies almost instantly, leaving behind a wife and three young children. 
• A church planter loses his young daughter to an asthma attack (AN ASTHMA ATTACK?!). 
• A 6 year old boy has brain cancer. 
• A family who we dearly love is fighting to save their marriage after an affair.
• A mom with 3 beautiful young children finds out she has cancer.

I feel like every week I'm hearing of another tragedy. Why? Why so many right now?

Andy wisely responded to my question by saying, "There's always this much suffering. You're just more aware of it right now."

So true. Whenever we're suffering a loss in our own lives, we see the whole world through that lens. We become acutely aware of all the pain and injustice that life keeps doling out...here's some for you, and some for you, and a great big heaping portion for you too.

We look on with fear, wondering if we will be the next unwanted recipients of grief so deep that it marks our whole lives. We start holding hands in parking lots and double-checking seat belts. We tiptoe in dark bedrooms to watch our children sleep, like somehow our presence will help their chests continue to rise and fall. We go overboard to control all the things that we have just realized afresh we have absolutely no control over at all.

We pray desperate prayers... prayers for comfort, for healing, for strength... and for protection. For a shield, a wall, to keep all those horrors away from us.

I began reading a book today. A book that my dad's been telling me for a year that I should read. Today was the day, and it was just the right day. A day that my head is spinning with questions of why and how and what does this mean for the future?

The book is One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp and it opens with a story of grief. Her story. As I read her words, I understood every question that she asked and emotion she described. All of us, if we live long enough, are introduced to sorrow.

She ends the first chapter by saying:

That which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond. To Him. To the God whom we endlessly crave.

These losses that we face in life are ones that we may always carry with us, but it does not have to remain a bottomless pit of hopelessness. It can be the rip in our hearts through which others can see Jesus. The shattered parts of us that have been lovingly and carefully mended can provide cracks to allow His glory to seep out.

I am on that journey. The journey of reflecting Jesus in the brokenness of life. 

Rescued

It's easy for me to forget what Sammy's life could have been like.

Gone are the days when Sammy would get the look of desperation in his eyes every time he saw food. Gone are the days when he would force feed himself until we finally would take his plate away for fear he may make himself throw up. Gone are the days that he would eat with one hand while guarding his food with the other so no one would steal it from him.

He has no concern for food these days. He's knows it's coming at least 3 times a day and he's beginning to realize that he can pick & choose what he likes because there's always plenty to choose from.

He has no want for clothes or toys or clean water or loving affection. He used to. But not anymore.

When Sammy first came home he would rarely cry when he got hurt. He'd scrape his little 2 year old knee or bang his head with a bump hard enough that would have sent Caedmon into hysteria. But instead Sammy would pound on the boo-boo with his fist and grimace. Every time that happened I made a point to pick him up and say, "It's okay to cry, Baby. Mommy will kiss it." He doesn't need me to say that anymore. He's learned where to come with his boo-boos.

I had some concerns for Sammy with cognitive delays not too long after bringing him home. When we started "preschool" this year as apart of homeschooling, Sammy was a lot further behind where Caedmon was at the same age. He could not put together a six piece puzzle. He could not count to 5 (or even 1!). But, today he put together a 24 piece puzzle without assistance and counted to 14. His mind is being stimulated and the intellect that he's capable of now has the opportunity to be achieved.

It's easy for me to forget that, had he stayed with his birth mother, he may have likely died before ever seeing his 5th birthday. He may have never attended school or learned to read. If he broke his leg in an accident, he may have ended up lame because of a lack of medical care. It's easy for me to forget these things...

Because today Sammy rides roller coasters and builds with legos and watches the sun set on the Pacific.  Sammy takes swimming lessons and sleeps in his own big bed in his climate controlled house. He has no need to fear water born illnesses or hyenas attacking his village at night. His life is different now. He's been adopted into a new family.

It dawned on me one day as I was watching Sammy play that his story mirrors my own. I was adopted by God into God's family when I was very young. I was raised in a Christian home and have known very little of the hardships of life apart from Jesus. It's easy for me to forget just how blessed I am. It's easy for me to forget how incredibly different my life would be had I not been adopted.

When I try to play out in my mind what my life may have ended up like if God had not rescued me, I cringe. I think of the different roads I would have travelled in my pursuit of happiness and peace and the sense of frustration and waste I would have had when I realized that they were dead ends. I think of the broken relationships and regret that would litter my trail. I think of the lack of purpose and meaning to life that would plague me.

My "normal" is so far removed from that that I tend to forget how desperate my situation would be apart from the grace of God. I subconsciously begin to think that this is the path I've chosen for myself...that I made these good choices that led me to this good place and, therefore, I must be very good.

As our reality gets further and further away from "what could have been" it's easy to lose our reverenced sense of gratitude for what Jesus has done for us. 

But the truth is, I'm not here because I'm good. I'm here because I've been rescued. Redeemed from a pit of self-destructive hopelessness and put onto solid ground.

Sammy has no clue what he's been rescued from, and I'm glad about that. It would be too much for his little 4 year old heart to bear. But one day, when we travel back to Ethiopia and play with the children there, the light will go on for him. He will see their beautiful, coffee colored, smiling faces and know that his could have been among them. He will hold children with ring worm and kiss widows dying of AIDS. He will bandage the feet of children who have no shoes to wear and offer a granola bar to a child digging through a trash heap for something to eat. And with every encounter I pray that the Holy Spirit whispers in his heart that he has been rescued.

Friend, if you are a follower of Jesus, you have been rescued as well. Maybe your life was a total wreck and God transformed it and you know full-well what a gift you've been given. I hope you never forget it! Or maybe you're like me...rescued so long ago that it's hard to imagine anything different. If that's you, take the time to imagine it. Really let the reality of it sink down into your bones. I didn't deserve to be born into a wonderful family that taught me about Jesus. No good thing is in my life apart from the grace of God.

It's easy to forget, but let's make a point to remember. 

New Strength

It's time.

Time for me to start writing again. Not that I really feel like it. But I'm going to start writing in hopes that it will make me feel normal again. And then one day I'll want to write just like I used to. And perhaps I won't even notice the transition.

No...I think I'll notice.

I gotta tell ya, the past two months have felt like wandering around in the darkness. Sometimes I can sense the Presence of God with me there; sometimes I can't. Sometimes I crawl around on the floor cautiously trying to feel my way along so I can make it out of this dark room. And sometimes I pick up my speed only to walk head-first into the same ol' wall that I feel like I've walked into a thousand times before. So then I just sit down on the floor and cry while trying to assess how bruised my nose got this time.

To say that I am surprised by how I've responded to this season would only be scratching the surface. Surprised. Frustrated. Disappointed. I thought I'd feel "stronger" than this when pain came knocking on my door. I thought I'd face each day with courage and answer each doubt with promises from God's Word. I thought I'd choose faith over skepticism. I thought I would feel His presence more.

In some ways it feels ridiculous to me, even embarrassing, that I'm still having a hard time getting back into the swing of things. I mean, TONS of women go through miscarriages. I was only 7 1/2 weeks along, right? It's not like we knew the gender or had picked out a name or already set up the crib. There are people in this world suffering from such greater tragedy than my own. I also feel pretty sure that Andy & I will be able to have another baby in the future. So, what is the deal? Why have I been floundering around so much?

I've read two books that friends have given me over the past couple weeks. Both have been very helpful. In Angie Smith's book, I Will Carry You, she made the comment, "You can't rush grief." She shared that grief is like wandering around the woods and you keep stumbling upon uncharted territories that have to be walked through, and then sometimes you happen upon the same scene that you know you've already seen. And you think to yourself, "I'm getting no where." But grief is not linear. It doesn't happen neatly from Point A to Point B to Point C and then you're done. Your only choice is whether or not to keep walking. Are you going to just sit down and resolve that there is no way out of these woods so you might as well pitch your tent and plan to stay? Or will you keep walking? Will you keep doing the work of grief until you come upon a clearing and the road is suddenly in plain sight?

The other book, Tracks of a Fellow Struggler by John Claypool, gave a brilliant perspective on the very familiar verses from Isaiah 40:31:

Those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.

They will soar high on wings like eagles.

They will run and not grow weary.

They will walk and not faint.

Claypool said that he felt like soaring, running, and walking were three unique ways that we receive strength from the Lord throughout our lives. When we walk with the Lord, we will at times have moments of "soaring" where we experience mountain-top, fist-pumping, exuberant joy in our relationship with Him. These moments propel us forward with newfound strength and intimacy in our walk with Him. 

We will also experience seasons of "running" where God gives us the strength to do the work before us. He has called us to certain tasks and we can truly experience His presence and supernatural strength when we are faithful to the job at hand. 

The 3rd kind of strength is to "walk and not faint." This is the kind of strength I've had. I may not have had the strength to keep writing, but I've had the strength to keep doing laundry and wiping peanut butter off of little hands and faces. Christmas may have felt more empty and numb instead of joyful and meaningful, but I had the strength to wrap presents and put up/take down Christmas decor. I may not have the strength to invest a lot of time/thought into "ministry", but I had the strength to hand deliver a Christmas card and a few chocolates to my neighbors. 

I am not running on all cylinders. But by the grace of God I feel like I'm making progress and I am hopeful that healing is taking place. So I will keep walking.

This exert from Claypool's book says it well,

I confess to you honestly that I have no wings with which to fly or even any legs on which to run - but listen, by the grace of God, I am still on my feet! I have not fainted yet. I have not exploded in the anger of presumption, nor have I keeled over into the paralysis of despair. All I am doing is walking and not fainting, hanging in there, enduring with patience what I cannot change but have to bear.

Those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.   

I Will Carry You

There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies 

Wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?

People say that I'm brave but I'm not
Truth is I'm barely hanging on
But there's a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this

So I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the One who's chosen me
To carry you

Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But I know
That the silence
Has brought me to His voice
And He says

I've shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies 

No more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?

I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All your life
And I will praise the One who`s chosen me
To carry you