13 Hours of Rain

Mother's Day 2012 During moments of nostalgia, I find myself disclosing my sadness over the passing of my children's infant years to other mothers. And often the response is, "Well, have another one." (sigh) I am surrounded by many amazing moms in this community. But in my circle of acquaintances, I am not the norm. I am a mother of two. In this small urban city, it seems like three children is the magical family size. But then again, most of the parents of these families are much younger than us. I apologize for blogging about this topic again. But I need to process the end. And if you read on, thank you for supporting me, even though it is virtually at this moment. So, why not Child #3? First, I don't want to add another biological member to our family for the sake of competition. I have been tempted, oh-so-very-much-pressured, to somehow bandage my parental inadequacies by birthing more babies. After all, amazing moms have more kids...

Last Sunday, I stood in front of our congregation, adorned in a light blue salwar kameez with shimmery silver embroidery, and spoke of my ethnic land, India. I shared the challenges of a couple who are called to minister amongst the North Indian people. I desired to be their voice. I longed to share their passion to see a land come to Christ. Deep down, I prayed, that someone, or maybe two or more, dare I hope, would be INSPIRED to travel across ocean and land to spread the Good News to the land of my forefathers. There are days I wish I could go. There are moments I ache to just sell it all, save a few meager belongings, and travel with my family to serve my people in a land DESPERATE for hope. Yet, I linger, here, in a place of prosperity and wealth that so many of us take for granted. Years past, I seriously explored the possibility of living in a culture different from my own for the sole purpose of making disciples of all nations. I did several short term missio...

I rang the doorbell of the suburban bungalow. Sparkling blue eyes and a familiar smile greeted me at the door. “Rain! Come on in. It is so good to see you!” “You too, Dianne. I love coming to your place.” “I have tea waiting in the prayer room. Come join me as soon as you shed your things.” I hung my jacket and purse on the hook in the hallway and followed Dianne to the back of her house... Please join me at Our Journey Home for my monthly contribution to Family Friday . Thank you for your support! And thank you Dianne for granting me the privilege to share part of your story.

Blue Day! "Uh-oh!" he announces holding up his purple bunny. "What happened?" I ask. "Bunny bumped head," he states in a matter-of-fact voice. As I repeat his conclusion back in Hindi, he nods his confirmation. I gently take the bunny and whisper condolences into its large floppy ears. My son looks satisfied as Mommy comforts his bedtime friend. My son is a go-getter. He runs full tilt, whips around corners, and bumps his head too many times! He is reckless and would jump into oncoming traffic for curiosity's sake. Thus, we have learned to grip his arm with all our strength to avoid injury. And some days he seems quite rough. I wonder what goes through his mind at times... Hmmm, what would happen if I bonked my sister's head with this toy golf club... BONK! Ohhhh, she cries...let's try that again... BONK! " MOMMY! " his sister screeches. Yet, he has the sweetest, dearest heart ever. He is affectionate, appreciative, and ...

"... I am God, and there is none like me. I make known the end from the beginning ... My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please." (Isaiah 46:9-10) My Response to the Lord: How quickly we stress out. How quickly we question your goodness. How quickly we forget that your plans will stand and this is your world. You own everything. How can we expect the unseen to guide according to human logic? Why do we time and time again reduce you to a level that insults your majesty and holiness? For all this, and more, I ask your forgiveness. Father God, Awesome Creator of the Vast Universe, you have my dreams out there. You have my children's children out there. You have my life out there. After all you rightfully should  – they are yours, really, not mine! The Lord speaks: "Listen to me, Rain, all you who remain of my house, you whom I have upheld since you were conceived, and have carried since your birth. Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I a...