I think I’m with a lot of mamas out there when I say this child Trayvon has been on my mind constantly for weeks. Truly any time I look at my boys I think of him.

I really believe I’m a pretty laid back person (in most regards). I’m not a fearful person by any stretch of the imagination. I really take a “free range kids” parenting approach. So this feeling I’ve been feeling for a few weeks that is so foreign to me? Now I know. That’s fear.

Total fear that my boys will have the same fate as Trayvon just because they share the same color of skin.

This had everything to do with race. I don’t care what Newt says or Santorum says it’s not political, it’s racial.

But white people won’t understand unless we want to start to learn to understand.

I would’ve had no idea until I decided to raise black boys and started reading massive amounts of literature on the very real uneven racial climate this country still finds itself in. (And please understand, I still have much to learn).

Because here’s the deal, this country cannot be what it promises to be (land of the free, the only place in the world where you can go from nothing to something, etc) if kids like Trayvon still get gunned down because they’re black.

This country cannot be the promised land if only white people are promised the land.

And it’s disgusting to me that the killer is free. It’s devastating to watch Trayvon’s family fight for justice.

This is one of those times, right? One of those times where you want to crawl under the covers with your family and never come out. Or is that just me?

Instead I’m asking our friends. Our friends who have the same skin color as our boys and as Trayvon. What do I do? Will you help us raise them? To understand. Because I don’t understand. I don’t know what it’s like.

“My father always said keep your hands at 10 and 2, always. If a police officer pulls you over keep your hands at 10 and 2.”

“When I get out of my car and there are white people around I watch them look at me and then click the door lock button on their car. It still happens.”

I don’t know what that’s like. But that doesn’t mean it’s not real just because it’s not been my experience.

My babies, my baby boys. They are so cute and so precious right now. One day Tariku will be a teenager with facial hair and an afro. He’ll undoubtedly be wearing a hoodie because that’s all he wears now. And one day he might look suspicious to the wrong kind of person. The thought of that runs shivers down my spine.

So today I’m doing a few things. I’m linking to a few really good articles out there (though there are many). I’m urging you to sign this petition. I’m changing our blog header until justice prevails for Trayvon and his family. And I’m begging you, regardless of your race, to start educating you on the realities of this country for minorities.

If you have ideas as to what else I can do, I’m constantly open to suggestions. Blessings to you.

http://blackandmarriedwithkids.com/2012/03/21/watch-and-pray-for-our-children

http://www.urbancusp.com/newspost/the-bullet-next-time-an-open-letter-to-my-unborn-black-son/

http://ideas.time.com/2012/03/21/how-to-talk-to-young-black-boys-about-trayvon-martin/

http://blogs.bible.org/tapestry/sharifa_stevens/why_i_fear_good_people_trayvon_martin_and_kony_2012

http://www.urbanfaith.com/2012/03/walking-while-black.html/

I think I’ve been actively involved in 3 World Water Days. That is kind of incredible. That’s how long this crisis has been on my heart and in my fervent late night prayers.

This crisis is one we can solve in our lifetimes. Isn’t that amazing? I really think that is worth getting behind.

So here’s the deal. The Adventure Project is one of my absolute favorite organizations. If you haven’t heard of them you need to research them. They are where all of charity is heading and I love that about them. 2 really incredible minds are at the helm of this thing and it is completely inspiring (did I mention they are women too? Yeah, amazing women).

Today they are asking for donations on World Water Day. If they make it to $33,000 today they will get a $25,000 match. That is a huge impact on the water crisis. What better way to recognize this day then to put a dent in the problem?

Go here and donate. Seriously, if everyone who reads my blog donated $20 this thing would be done. So let’s do it!

Read some great stuff by co-founder Jody here.

And donate. Definitely donate.

Oh my my my. Tarku turned 7 last Friday. I know, you are as shocked as I am about that fact. Many of you have been here since the beginning with him. When we received his referral my sweet pea was 2 1/2. That is why I say “my my my” to him being 7.

I realize I keep saying this, but seriously why are my kids so cute so early in the morning?!?!?

Tariku wanted donuts as well. Most days I wish I was half as cool as Tariku is. (Also, it was about 82 degrees on March 16th here in Iowa. That is virtually unheard of.)

We did what Tariku always wants to do on his day. Be outside. Basketball, skateboarding and overall rambunctiousness.

Then we got to go to dinner with Papa Frank. Always, always after dinner comes ice cream.

Tariku really doesn’t like attention on him. So he loved when we sang him happy birthday in the middle of Culvers (no he did not).

On Saturday he had another party. Homemade cupcakes from Mimi Connie. Super delicious.

Oh and the skateboard. Do you recognize a theme? Yeah, he got to pick out a new one thanks to his Mimi. I love watching the boys design their own. Tariku’s was perfect.

The gang.

I don’t even know where to start with Tariku. There are so many things to say about this 7-year-old. Since his birthday landed on spring break none of his friends/cousins could make a sleepover so we’re rescheduling. Tariku took it all in stride (which, honestly, is not normal for him). He really was excited to be hanging with us all day.

I love him so much. He is so smart, so caring, so helpful, so loving. Tariku has endless amounts of energy, which suits him nicely because he loves playing sports. He’s about the only kid I know who can play really hard in an hour long basketball game and then come home and shoot hoops for 2 more hours.

Tariku’s teachers talk constantly about him being arguably their most perfect student. The few times he’s gotten into trouble it’s been because he understands directions before everyone else and he gets so excited about it that he decides he needs to be the one to explain it to them. Otherwise? He’s perfect.

And he is. Another teacher says, “Every time I see Tariku walking down the hall he’s bobbing his head. He’s obviously always hearing music, always dancing.” Word. up. lady. If you’ve met Tariku you’d agree. Which is one of the things I love about him.

My boy still hesitates before coming into a hug with me. He rarely initiates hugs or kisses. That said, his chest puffs up whenever I snuggle with him or go on a date with him. I know how much we both need those moments.

And it’s easy to give him. Because I’m so thankful I’ve been able to celebrate his life (in some way or another) for 5 years. He deserves better than me on my worst days. But every day? Every day I give him everything I have. Because being a mom to this boy is one of the biggest blessings of my life.

Love you Choochie booch. Happy birthday, my love.

Hooooly cow. Still remember this time. It had been about a month since we learned they were going to let us proceed in Tomas and Binyam’s adoptions, 3 months since we first saw their faces and wanted them to be part of our family. If I must say, I had quite a bit of clarity in that post. I must have been drunk. 😉

Only (kind of) kidding.

But Tomas. Look at this picture of him when we walked into his room singing Happy Birthday.

For anyone that knows Tomas, they know that’s just him. Always smiling. Always. 6:30 in the morning? Yup, smiling.

Zach was doing a presentation for career day at the school so we were all very excited that the whole family was going to be at school for Tomas’s birthday (I was going to volunteer as well).

If you’ve been here awhile you know how much I love their school. Love, love. It is bar none the best school in the district and perhaps in the state. Love. And their teachers? uhmazing. Tomas’s does this puffy paint shirt for birthdays in her class. As you can imagine, the birthday kids feel pretty special. Tomas was no exception.

Tomas used money from Mimi Connie to build his skateboard (just like his older brother). Quick side note: the gentleman helping put the skateboard together was quite surprised at all of the colors Tomas wanted on his board, “Really? You want that color? Well this might be the brightest skateboard I’ve ever made!” Also, poor sap got sucked into the Tomas vortex that features approximately 100 questions and numerous scatterbrained anecdotes.

Alas he picked a sublime representation of himself all wrapped up into one skateboard.

Tomas picked Buffalo Wild Wings for his birthday dinner. Some aunts, uncles and grandparents met us out.

The night ended with a Skype call from Aunt Kait in Japan.

Last night Tomas had a sleepover with 2 of his best friends and 2 of his cousins. When the mom of one of his friends dropped the boy off she said, “Tomas is the one kid in school I look forward to running into every day. His energy is so good, so positive. He is always smiling, always the first to laugh and give hugs. He is just good.” (She is a para at his school).

And seriously? She’s right on. He is all of that. He is the sweetest boy I’ve ever met in my entire life. In fact, the sleepover was clearly a little stressful for him because he wanted to make sure every boy was taken care of, that everyone was having equal amounts of fun.

Tomas is the biggest kid in our family and also the biggest softie. He is the most attentive to people’s needs and he is also the most spacey. He is sweet and sensitive, loving and playful. He is a friend to many and a foe to none.

I told the para that day that kids like Tomas will never be top in their class, but they will be the kids who change the world. Because no matter what, Tomas sees the good in people, in experiences, in life. And if there’s one thing I have noticed in my short time on earth, it’s that the people who still believe in hope and in love who are making this world a better place to live. And he does, and he will.

Today at church Zach was helping lead worship. Tomas snuck his way in front of me and I wrapped my arms around him. We spent the next 30 minutes wrapped together like this worshipping our God. At one point I was simply overcome. I put my hand on his heart and I poured my thankfulness into his heart and at God. What a truly amazing gift it is to be a mother to this child. What a simply beautiful and powerful thing it is to watch this boy who has witnessed and remembered some horrific things be here. With me. Singing loudly to a God who has seemingly never shown up for him.

But he knows. He knows God loves him. And somehow, he knows he deserves it. He is a powerful witness to me. He is my beloved son. Tonight I am so, so thankful that’s true.

Happy birthday Tomas-ay. I love you so much.

–Tonight I put Binyam to bed. The 3 bigs are at baseball practice and he always gets really nervous when everyone isn’t home when it’s bedtime. “Mommy, will the boys come home when I’m asleep?” That question is asked ad nauseom. The truth of the matter is, he doesn’t actually go to bed until they come home. I hate that. Not because he’s not going to bed when his little body needs him to but because he’s so concerned about everyone making it back ok. So concerned about loss and death and and and…these are things a 5-yr-old shouldn’t be thinking. Shoot, these are things that don’t typically even cross my mind as a woman of multiple decades. It is really hard to watch him look into my eyes to see if I’m just pretending that they’re coming back. To try to read through my smile and prepare his heart for more loss.

–You know that moment when your child first reads to you? And they are smiling the whole time and you start this weird giggle/hiccup thing. And they make it through their first sentence and then paragraph and then page. And then it’s done and you look at each other and you know that they get it. That in that moment you know they realize what a wondrous place books can be. Dailah’s there. I just came from her room and I’m still smiling.

–Ethiopia. Ethics. Adoption. What to do with family left there. How much support to the country? To the people? Blurg. It’s a freaking mess and it occupies too much space in my mind.

–I was talking to a friend the other day about why I haven’t been blogging as much. I think to a large extent is because I’ve been parenting. I’ve been preoccupied with throwing my energies into improving myself as a wife, mom, human and it takes it all up. I know blogs that somehow manage to (seemingly, I don’t know a lot of these people personally so I can only go based on their online image) both blog and parent successfully. I wonder if I’m one of them. These days instead of parenting in a way that would be applicable to this blog I’m just parenting. Crazy, I know.

I used to chase my kids around with the camera to document every moment of their lives to put down here. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But I’ve started to realize I was missing out on some parts of life when the focus was on documenting as opposed to experiencing.

So if I’m gone for awhile that’s where I am. Experiencing. Enjoying. Loving.

–That said I still obsessively read your blogs so commence to documenting please. 🙂

The last 9 years have flown by. Absolutely flown. My baby boy turned 9 yesterday and I still can’t believe it. 

completely abused me.

We went to Minnesota to do some snowboarding with my family. I am bruised everywhere.

I will be back with better blogging behavior after I can sit on my butt and not sit directly on 3 bruises.

See you tomorrow. Miss you guys. 😉

From a boy who isn’t always the best at showing or telling us he loves us, he’s amazing at writing about it.

I’ve been reading The Hole In Our Gospel by Richard Stearns the last week or so.

And of course, like any good book, it’s got me thinking a lot. It’s not that I hadn’t heard most of what he’s talking about, it’s just a reminder of lots of stuff I process on a daily basis.

Before Christmas a friend posted something on Facebook asking why so many Christians are so mean, judgmental, not Christlike at all. (I’m paraphrasing really poorly, as she wasn’t mean or spiteful in her question, she was sincerely seeking). I responded with “I have so much to say I need to just write a blog post”.

I wanted to write then that, unfortunately, just because people are Christians doesn’t mean they are any less human than other people. And humanity, as we all know, encompasses all kinds of beauty and ugly within it. The reality is Christians need grace just like everybody else, in fact more often than not, we probably need it more than everybody else.

I wanted to write that but remembered that I am often equally frustrated with Christians. Especially in a space like Facebook or the blogosphere. When I see someone quoting the Bible and then exploiting children, or leaning on scripture to ok their unethical adoption I become one hot little unit.

We aren’t perfect are we? Myself included, or rather myself especially.

Here’s the deal, for those of you who don’t believe the way I do, I get it. It’s a stretch. That’s why it’s called faith. I also get it if the only experience you’ve had with Christians has left you believing we are all fear mongers that use God as our shield to act any way we want.

I get it.

But I guarantee you there are also Christians in parts of the world that no one else will go. There are also Christians whose names you will never know doing things that are unimaginable. They aren’t even wielding their Bibles telling everyone they need to believe. They are quietly and with great fortitude bringing heaven to earth.

That is Jesus. It’s not in the adoptive parent (because, really, we all want the kids we are getting. There is too much selfishness in adoption to have it be considered Jesuslike, in my humble opinion), it’s not in the guy passing out Bibles to new college freshman.

It’s in the people quietly and steadfastly feeding the hungry, caring for the sick, visiting those in prison. It’s in the people not just throwing money at problems but becoming part of the solution.

And it is frustrating when I see Christians who doesn’t seem Christlike at all, it is. But I know where I was not that many years ago still identifying myself as Christian. Not Christlike at all. And yet, and yet.

Grace.

Grace doesn’t come when I lodge hatefilled Bible balls at these unsuspecting Christians. That isn’t Grace.

So next time you see something that makes your blood boil, stand up for what you believe, sure. But not with hatefilled messages, with grace filled messages.

Grace saves, hate destroys.

We need each other (Christian or not) I really do believe that. I don’t like everyone. My personality clashes with other people’s that just the way it is. But that doesn’t mean I’m better or they’re better. We are different and there’s a space for us all to live peacefully together.

I think the world is changed by grace and love. I think minds and hearts are changed by those. I don’t believe they can be changed by arguing and posturing, I really don’t believe that.

Part of my New Years resolution, remember, is to tear off the masks. Here’s mine. Grace has saved me, people. Not just grace from Jesus but grace from the people in my life. They have quite literally loved me to Jesus. There has been no condemnation and that has made all the difference.

My pastor talked about heaven and earth last week. It was great (listen to it here, click on the last one “Focus 4” by Jason Holtgrewe) and I will unpack more of it as the weeks go on.

But what I loved was how he mentioned throughout the Bible God talks about bringing Heaven to earth. We’re not meant to just bide our time waiting to go to heaven. The reason God is bringing Heaven to earth is because earth is worth something now. The Bible talks about when God comes how He will throw out all injustice and ugliness.

So if it’s going to be thrown out then, it needs to be thrown out now.

Good stuff.

And I am on 40 different tangents but the purpose of this is to say this. Let’s do that*. Let’s bring heaven to earth now. By treating each other with respect, even when we aren’t treated that way. To love and not fear, to embrace and not push away. What an awesome world that could be.

Grace, it’s not just a tattoo.**

*When I say “Let’s” I mean “let us”, including myself. I am a recovering judger. It’s hard to shrug off the cloak of judgement. I am a work in progress. This is not a soapbox, it’s a rally cry. It’s a reminder for me, perhaps most of all.
**I have a tattoo that says Grace in Amharic