Blessings and Raindrops

seeking joy in the midst of the ordinary

“I will bless you.”

The Lord had said to Abram, “Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father’s family, and go to the land that I will show you. I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you…” {Genesis 12:1-2, emphasis mine}

“I will bless you.”

He will not burden you. He will not break you. He will bless you – the God of invincible reliability, the God who has infinite resources, the God who is insistent love.

– The Greatest Gift, Ann Voskamp

I first read these words during Advent of 2013. I clung to this promise like a lifeline as I longed and prayed for our daughter waiting for us in an orphanage across the globe. God’s blessings felt distant that Advent season. As I read through this same devotional this year, five Advents later, I can reflect on the beauty of that season of waiting. Advent, after all, is meant to draw us into a season of Hopeful anticipation. A season of waiting and slowing and lingering. We aren’t meant to sprint through the season, rushing toward the promised blessing. Instead, we are meant to pause. We are meant to quiet the noise of the world and dim the flashy distractions tempting us off-course. We are meant to draw near to the Giver of every good gift.

This Advent season looks so very different than the one as I waited and ached for our girl. My house is full, my cup literally overflows and my calendar is jam-packed. Yet, still. I wait.

I wait and I pray out of heartfelt gratitude. I reflect on the past ten years – the dips and turns and mountains in my path. My eyes blur with joyful tears. Laughter rests at the tip of my tongue, ready to burst forth at any moment. I sit in absolute awe at the feet of my Savior. For the gift of His coming. For the gift of the cross. For the abundant blessings He has bestowed upon my little family. For His insistent love.

For the years of persistent prayers…He heard every single one. For the countless tears…He collected every drop. He kept track of my sorrows and He turned each and every one into praise. Four miraculous little lives…proof of His invincible reliability. And, now…

Now, when I thought the chapter on building our family was finished. When, I thought we were moving on to new chapters and new stories. He surprises us with the most unexpected blessing. Yet again, He proves Himself faithful beyond human comprehension.

Never in a million years did I expect to welcome another pint-sized Marrs into the world. In my disbelief, I have refused to celebrate the joy of this miracle in fear of reality rebuking my bliss. I have guarded my heart in doubt. It seemed too good to be true. Too miraculous to be real.

Yet, reading these words, “He will not burden you. He will not break you. He will bless you,” pulled me back under His shield of Love, away from the arrows of fear. 

Friends, I am THRILLED to share that Baby BOY Marrs will be here this summer!

Is this not the CRAZIEST news?!? I still can’t quite believe it myself.

Much love and Happy Advent to you all!!!!

Don’t miss it.

My days currently have the most unexpectedly sweet rhythm. Now that we’ve wrapped filming for our first season of Almost Home (and, by the way, the network is considering a name change for the show… I’ll keep y’all posted as soon as I learn the new name), Dave and I both felt an unmistakable call to intentionally slowing down and creating whitespace within our days. After eight months of intense filming and renovating ten homes, we were emotionally and physically exhausted. We approached this new season of purposeful rest with zeal and excitement, knowing God would use this time for something really good.

 

So far, we have attended our fair share of soccer games (cheering on our boys from the sidelines is something I’ll never get over. I didn’t expect to love watching my kids do what they love so much…it really is yet another surprise of motherhood), been home every night to make dinner and help with homework (as much as I lament the fact that these little people are constantly wanting to eat and meal planning makes my head want to explode some days, I really missed cooking dinner for my people), been greeted with a running leap and hug at preschool pick-up every other day and resumed my place in after-school carline. I certainly have a newfound appreciation for the flexibility of my schedule prior to filming. All of the mundane things that I surprisingly missed so much when I had to turn over the reins to someone else.

We are currently working on a couple of remodel projects (again, scaling WAY back) and are preparing once again to host our big Help One Now gala in a few weeks at the farm. This year, we have our beloved Zimbabwean partners for the Gatehouse Project, Pastor John and Orpah, coming to stay with us in order to be our featured guests at the gala!! Our whole family is so excited about this!


Without really thinking it through, last Friday, we took in the most frightened and frail orphaned baby calf and named her Betsy. She fought us for a couple of days but quickly learned what the bottle was and now runs up when she sees me coming. Each morning, I fill her bottle, throw on my muck boots and coat, and walk down to the pasture to feed Betsy breakfast.

As I go, I have three dogs running alongside me, two kittens mischievously darting around me, and six sheep running in excitedly from the other field.

Just this morning, I start to tear up as I hold the bottle and look Betsy in the eye. I may sound crazy, but I see light where I once only saw fear. I know, she is a cow. But, I am telling you, her eyes look different.

As she sucks down her nutrients, I laugh at the sights around me. A kitten jumping around a sheep, while the sheep tries to sniff her in what can only be described as confusion. Dora, the lab, stoically standing at the pasture gate, watching Betsy with intensity. She has been by Betsy’s side since day one, I like to imagine she is silently cheering her on. {Dora is our momma of the farm, she took Trixie the lamb in last year as one of her own, she watches over the kittens and corals them when the run too far, she stands guard over the kids when they’re outside playing. She always keeps a watchful eye on her domain}. My tears and laughter mix together and I can only praise Jesus for His goodness.

I could have missed all of this. I could have stayed in my beloved newly built home in our historic downtown, living my comfortable life, focused more on the things of this world, than the Giver of good gifts. I could have refused to listen to the Holy Spirit prompting us to sell our home and downsize in order to move out to this farm. I could have stayed in that place of grieving a life that once was and allowed myself to continue to feel isolated and out of place, a girl raised in the suburbs of Orlando with cows and pastures as my new neighbors. I could have not seen this place as the holy gift it is. A place where we welcomed in a new baby and a traumatized toddler. A place where we have raged a spiritual war against an enemy who relentlessly attacked our girl, and consequently, our entire family. A place where God has shown up in real ways. A place where my boys remind me each night during their prayers; Angels stand guard, surrounding these four walls.

Oh friends, don’t miss it. Don’t miss whatever it is God is calling you to. It may feel like the absolute craziest, illogical thing you could ever imagine. You may not be able to explain it to anyone without receiving honest-to-goodness concerns for your mental well-being. You may try to talk yourself into believing you didn’t hear God correctly. You will certainly start hearing lies from the enemy trying to distract you and throw you off course. Don’t listen to him. Lean in to the Holy Spirit and follow. Even if your knees are shaking and you’re grieving the life and the plans you thought you had so meticulously laid out. Especially then. Because, I promise, promise, promise you, God’s plans are infinitely higher and grander and better than anything you or I could dream up on our own. Take Him at His word. He’s ready to gush forth springs of healing and restoration.
Springs will gush forth in the wilderness, and streams will water the desert. The parched ground will become a pool, and springs of water will satisfy the thirsty land. (Isaiah 35:6-7)

chiquita.

There has been a tension in my heart lately. I can’t quite articulate it and I certainly can’t wrap it up with a tidy bow. Yet, it’s there. I have struggled with anxiety and an overall sense of feeling disconnected from God.

When we were waiting for Sylvie to come home, I was clinging to Him each day, each moment. It was my only choice. Life moved on all around me while I begged for Jesus to be near. Oh, how He was. How He showed me such mercy and grace and abundant love during that painful time. As hard as the waiting was, I felt closer to God than ever before in my life. I heard from Him, I felt His nearness, I earnestly devoured His Word. The Word was alive on the pages and spoke to my heart in fresh ways, I saw the message with new eyes.

In this season of life, I look up and realize that days have gone by without the pages of my Bible being turned. Life moves on all around me and I just move along with it. Most days, I’m in communication with Him but I don’t feel Him.

I know this is perfectly normal. Life isn’t meant to be lived on the mountaintop or in the valley. It’s meant to be lived in the everyday grime and mess. In the everyday laughter and exhaustion. In the everyday coming and going. Yet, each day is a chance to encounter our Creator. He longs for us to seek His face. That fact alone is immensely humbling and overwhelming.

I’ve been seeking clarity on an upcoming trip, asking Him for direction and discernment. Quick backstory: Dave and I had both planned to visit Haiti with one of my absolute favorite organizations, Help One Now, alongside some of my absolute favorite people. I’ve been looking forward to this trip while also dreading it. Does that even make sense?

The stress and anxiety of leaving our kiddos was keeping me up at night. I knew the boys would be fine without us, yes, they would miss us but they have a blast with Nana and Papa. I was very concerned about Charlotte. She is in a “mommy” phase right now – basically, she only wants me. And she isn’t shy about sharing her feelings on the topic.

So, our little pup who likes to hop in my car anytime I leave snuck in last Friday while I was getting the girls buckled up to go pick up the boys from school. I didn’t even notice Chiquita because she just snuggled up in the back seat and went to sleep. After picking up the boys, we ran a few errands and then dropped by Dave’s office to surprise him with a sonic slush.

Putting the pieces together, I now know that Chiquita jumped out of the car with us and ran to the side of the office and the little grassy area. In the chaos of getting everyone out of the car, I didn’t even notice that she hopped out. A sweet lady saw her there {we were inside the office at this point} and picked her up thinking she had run off and wanted to prevent her from getting hit by a car as we were on a main street. Meanwhile, we were visiting with some of Dave’s clients and their kids and ours were all playing all around the office and outside.

It wasn’t until a couple of hours later when we arrived back home that I noticed Chiquita wasn’t there. I had assumed she was at home all along and was completely shocked when she didn’t come when I called. Keep in mind — this is the dog that sits in front of the fireplace 23 hours of the day in the winter and lays in her bed 14 hours of the day in the summer and in my lap the other 10. She doesn’t EVER leave my sight. Ever.

I then realized she must have jumped in the car with me earlier in the day. Dave stayed home with the kids while I frantically retraced my stops looking for Chiquita. I came home empty-handed and so very sad. I posted on Facebook and on every page in our area for lost pets/concerned citizens/our city’s page… everywhere.

Hundreds of people shared the post. I was blown away by the outpouring of support and love as we tried to find our pup. It really blew me away and reminded me that there is so much goodness in this world. It is often drowned out by the bad and the ugliness … but it is there. And, I really, really needed to be reminded of that fact. God knew my heart was aching to know that mankind and this world are not completely messed up.

what my daughter has taught me about love.

I’m frequently asked about the transition our family underwent when our daughter joined our family through adoption. Friends and family are naturally curious about our family dynamic. They wonder how Sylvie has adjusted to her new world. They ask about her siblings and the impact her adoption has had on their own tender hearts.

The short answer is: “it’s complicated.”
The multi-faceted layers of hurt and brokenness and pain Sylvie carries with her are staggering. At just over one year home, we are still working to learn what triggers fear and uncover the cause of certain behaviors.
One of the most profound lessons adopting a toddler with a traumatic past has taught me is this: love is not a passive emotion, it requires effort. 

We are doing the hard work of love in our home. It is messy and fractured and imperfect. Yet, we are stumbling through and watching the beauty of redemption unfold. The transformation has been most dramatic in Sylvie’s eyes: eyes that once were cold and lifeless are now bright and quite literally shine.
In a recent conversation with Monica of the Bentonville Project, she asked for my description of love. Looking back on my response, I see clear lessons learned from parenting my girl. 

Love is selfless and vulnerable. It is intentional. Love is seeing the mess and the brokenness and stepping into the story instead of turning away. Love is getting up every day and doing the next thing. Love gives more than it receives. Love can be fireworks and wonder and awe but often, most often, it is quiet, gentle, and unremarkable. Love is tender.  Love is laps full, arms wrapped around littles, snuggled together reading a bedtime story. Love pursues. Love forgives. Love extends grace. Love is the foundation of an abundant life.