Christmas 2019

I was telling Troy the other night that my Christmas letters used to be hilarious. That was before I had three kids to write about. I refuse to let my letter exceed one page because AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME TO READ THAT. And so, alas, the humor is gone. But if anyone is still reading this blog, here's what we've been up to.

Dear Friends & Family,
                2019 brought big changes for our family. We traded snow shovels for umbrellas when Troy accepted the Senior Pastor position at Evangelical Bible Church in Dallas, Oregon. Dallas is a small town of approximately 16,000 people, located about 20 minutes west of Salem. We moved in August and our family is adjusting well. Utah was home to us for 11.5 years and we dearly miss our friends, church, and school, but we love being a part of this community. Hometown football games, bumping into someone we know wherever we go, and spending time at the local swimming hole are just some of the incredible blessings of small town living. We bought a home close to the boys’ schools and less than two miles from the church. Our congregation has welcomed us with open arms and hearts and we are excited to partner with them in ministry.
              Troy is busy learning the ropes at EBC. It’s been a great start to what he hopes will be a long and productive ministry. He is enrolled in a doctorate of ministry program at Corban University. Troy is enjoying getting to know the people at our new church and supporting our boys in all they do. He is embracing the gray skies and endless green of the Pacific Northwest, but is happy when the sun makes an appearance for his wife.
                Lori was sad to leave her teaching position at Falcon Ridge Elementary. Currently, she stays home with Will but is excited to begin teaching drama one day a week at a local community school in January. Lori is co-directing the Christmas play, singing and playing guitar with the worship team, and participating in Bible study.  Lori keeps herself busy raising a house full of boys. She enjoyed the uncharacteristically sunny Oregon fall.
                Garrett finished elementary school in Utah. He made the baseball All-Star team and was cast in the lead role in his class Shakespeare play. In Dallas, he played football on the 7^th grade team and is looking forward to baseball season. He earned straight As and enjoys middle school. He is playing Daniel, one of the leads, in the church Christmas musical. Garrett loves learning how to play the trombone, being a part of EBC’s youth group, and S’mores frosts from Dutch Bros. For now, he wants to be an Army Ranger when he grows up.
                Matthew finished 4^th grade with straight As. He played baseball last spring and had an incredible fall soccer season. He plans to play soccer again in the spring. His new school only gives semester report cards but he’s doing well and really enjoys all things science. He likes going to AWANA which is held at our church. Matthew is hoping to take some drama classes in Salem next year. He is playing Luther, a lead, in the church musical. Currently, Matt wants to be an actor when he grows up and is saving his money for a trip to New York.              
               Last spring, while still only 2, Will played his first season of tee ball. He loved it and is hoping to be able to play a sport in the spring. Our coordinated boy learned how to ride a two-wheeler right after turning 3. Will attends Grace Christian Preschool two days a week. He participates in AWANA and does a great job memorizing his verses. He enjoys playing at the park, going on walks, riding his scooter, and doing everything his brothers are doing. He still has endless energy. When he grows up, Will wants to be a police officer.
                Summer was a time for baseball, pool trips, and soaking up as much time as we could with our Utah friends. We vacationed in San Diego in July. Garrett brought his best friend of ten years with him. We had a blast watching the Padres play and visiting Sea World, the beach, and the zoo. It was a special time with family.
                In August, Lori’s parents flew to Utah to help us move. Our Sonrise family worked tirelessly to get our house clean and load our moving truck. Once our house closed in Dallas, our new EBC family was there to help us unload. We are so thankful for the many hands who partnered in our move, the many friends who prayed for us, and the churches who so graciously give us the opportunity to be in vocational ministry. We hope this letter finds you resting in the peace of this season. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Just a Little Cut

I cannot believe that we packed up our entire family and all our earthly possessions and we said goodbye to so many people we just love with our whole hearts and I didn't even blog one single second of that. We've been here for almost a whole entire month and I haven't written a moment of that down either. The last time I major moved--as in, to another state--I had one wee child and he napped so I got stuff done. Now I have three children and two of them are not wee and the one who is still wee is LARGER THAN LIFE ALL OF THE TIME THAT HE IS AWAKE.

There have been A LOT of incredible miracles and blessings surrounding our move and, for some of them, I've been too worked up to notice. God is doing a work in my worked up-ness, LET ME TELL YOU. Oooof. He is reminding me that in all my big feelings about our exit, he is in control of all of it.

I will, hopefully, eventually, get to the part where I write about all the crazy miracle house stuff that led to us being in this beautiful home that we got for way less than they were asking and then appraised for way more than they were asking. Today is not that day. Today is a day for explaining the miracles about this little foot...

This little foot slipped on a mossy part of a rock at the creek last night and got cut on another rock. Matthew was at soccer practice at the park. He stayed while the rest of us loaded Garrett up to head for urgent care. It's a new town. Our insurance is brand new. We wouldn't have any idea where to take him. Except. It just so happened...

The other day I opened some mail with insurance information. I didn't have time to really look at it but my eyes fell to a particular spot on the page that said where we should go for urgent care. I remembered because I thought, "Oh, that's right across the street from the hotel." I had noticed the clinic from the hotel we stayed at when we candidated. I didn't read ANYTHING else in that medical packet before setting it aside as one of the many things on my very long do-to list.

It just so happened that Matthew's soccer coach is a member of our church so we felt perfectly comfortable leaving him at the park on his first day of practice with a new team while the rest of us drove to the urgent care. It also just so happened that our youth pastor and his wife were available to help Troy get our other vehicle so that the rest of our family could still make the dinner we had scheduled with some people from the church. 

It just so happened that there was NO ONE at the Urgent Care except us. But the biggest blessing was...

It just so happened that this occurred on September 2. Our new insurance kicked in on September 1. Yes, we were insured with our Utah insurance prior to that BUT our Utah insurance was only good in the state of Utah. If we left the state, it turned in to "life or death situation" insurance. I once inquired as to what constituted life or death. My specific question, because my kid was trying to be a surfer, was, "What if he gets stung by a ray?" Not life or death. But without medical treatment I think roughly 10 out of 10 stings become infected. The response was something like, "Oh, I mean, we'd cover that." I didn't feel convinced. So for the last many years, I have felt slightly terrified that we might need medical treatment outside of Utah. Last year, when I smashed my tailbone in Crescent City and thought I had broken it for sure, I paid full price for them to tell me there was nothing that could be done. 

Had this cut happened under our Utah insurance, we'd have paid 100% out of pocket regardless because we haven't met our deductible on the year. Given my close personal relationship with urgent care and the emergency room because God, in His infinite wisdom, gave me a total of three crazy boys and Satan gave me kidney stones (or my lack of liquid intake gave them to me but I think that what can be blamed on Satan certainly should be), I know enough to know that this visit would have cost us hundreds upon hundreds of dollars. My 13 year old knows as well. Not because we've EVER denied him ANY kind of medical treatment because of cost but because he has eyes and has seen some of our bills. (Thankfully, our church had set up an HRA awhile back which helped lighten the load but, regardless of how it's being paid it still really stinks to look at a bill and realize that you're responsible for it in full.) Garrett looked at me, in this middle of all this, and said he was sorry. He'd been apologizing for hurting himself because for a minute there, we thought it was deep enough that he might be out of football for the entire season. Of course we said, over and over, that it was okay. It was an accident. Everything happens for a reason. But this time, his big eyes had a burden behind them. He finished his sentence with, "This is going to cost a fortune."

No child should have to worry about how much the gaping hole in his foot is costing his parents. 

"Maybe. We'll see. We have different insurance now," I told him. "Don't worry about it."

I know virtually NOTHING about this new insurance. Our kids qualified for the Oregon Health Plan. Somehow. I'm still not quite sure how or why but the Marketplace only accepted Troy and me and sent our kids on to OHP. 

When we left, I stopped at the front desk. She hadn't collected a credit card. She hadn't asked me for any money. "So...since I'm brand new to this insurance, can you tell me, will they just bill us?"

She looked genuinely confused. "It's OHP. It should just all be covered. You shouldn't get a bill."

It's so easy to see a gash on a kid's foot and think, "Oh, man, WHY? Why did this have to happen while he's fighting for playing time on his new football team. Why, two days before he starts 7th grade at a brand new school in a brand new town? WHY?" But, instead, I walked away from that office thinking, "Thank you, Lord, for protecting his feet throughout the month of August."

It just so happened that the Lord used a five stitch gash on my teenager's foot to remind me of His infinite goodness.

Thirteen

To My Teenager,

I didn't envision this day when they put your wet, squirmy body in my arms all those years ago. You can't, really. You see this helpless little lump of adorable depravity and you instantly know that you'll do anything for this kid, but you can't imagine it becoming a teenager. That seems so far down the road. There are too many sleepless nights and tantrums and spilled milk and spelling tests before thirteen. And still, here we are.

Listen. You've basically been a dream to raise. I have very few complaints. But if you don't stop talking back to me and rolling your eyes, that's all going to change. Let's get one thing clear. I am not the absolute dumbest person on the planet, even if your internal monologue says otherwise. Let's just keep you on the straight and narrow. Stay the course. Be amazing. Even if we are trading wards on every corner for cannabis dispensaries.

Speaking of the move, you impress me so much with your adventurous, go with the flow outlook on life. You don't want to leave your best friend and of course I get that. I don't want to leave mine either. But you're excited to meet new friends, do new things, and settle in to life in Dallas, Oregon. Once we told you there was a creek running through town, you were sold. I hope that you'll do big things in Dallas, Buddy and I'm excited to watch you become the man you were born to be.

I love watching you play ball. Baseball has become a top love for you and you've improved so much this year. You played all fall and spring and then you made the All-Star team and it was such a joy to see you getting hits and making plays. In the spring regular season, you were the lead off batter and had an on base percentage of something ridiculous like .750. And, listen, we were so proud of you. But we were proud of you before you ever stepped up to the plate because you are kind. You are a team player. You are coachable. I would choose those qualities over an ability to play any day of the week.

You also got to play the lead role in your school Shakespeare play. Watching you in A Comedy of Errors was like a dream come true for me. (Not because of the choice of the show--not my favorite in the Shakespeare canon--but watching my kid up there doing my thing was incredible.) Even if you hate Times Square and would rather spend all your time in Central Park catching turtles, at least you saw the role you wanted and went out and got it. And, at least you didn't hate all of New York City when we went last August. At least you liked pretty much everything except Times Square.

Your leadership skills once again earned you a spot with student council, you finished the 40 book challenge, and you brought home amazing report cards. I couldn't be more proud of the way you shine at school and I am hoping for big things for you at Lacreole Middle School. I know you can take that Enneagram 7 personality and be amazing. And, listen, I know you aren't supposed to label kids but if you aren't a 7, I don't know what is.

No matter what you become, no matter who you become, I love you. I pray that you always walk with Jesus, that you always love big and share generously, that you remember that in all things you are performing for an audience of One. Not me. Not your dad. The One, true King. Do all things for Jesus and you will be right where you are supposed to be.

Thank you for basically being a breeze for these first 13 years. We can totally do this teenage thing. I promise we can. Before we know it you'll have a driver's license and then you'll go to college and then you'll get married and have kids (IN THAT ORDER) and then I will be really, really old. But, for now, let's just put one foot in front of the other and get moved already.

All my love,
Mama

P.S. You still occasionally call me Mama. Confession: I love it so much.

Interview 13--Garrett

Through a great blogging mishap, all of these answers were accidentally deleted a year later. I have miraculously recalled all but one of his answers. Thankfully, I had just read them prior to asking him the news ones. I will leave the one blank that I cannot remember and hope that, in time, it will come to me.

1. What is your favorite T.V. Show? Whale Wars

2. What did you have for breakfast? A donut
3. What do you want to name your future son? Troy
4. Favorite Food? Crab
5. What food do you dislike? Mushrooms.
6. What is your favorite color? Purple
7. Favorite lunch? Top Ramen
8. What is your favorite thing to do? Be outside
9. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would it be? A Mediterranean Cruise.
10. Favorite sport? Baseball.
11. What do you want to name your future daughter? I like Emily
12. Are you a morning person or a night person? Both
13. Pets? I have a snail named Grubby and a dog.
14. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with us? I'm moving to Oregon.
15. What do you want to be when you grow up? Something in the military.
16. What is your favorite candy? 3 Musketeers.
17. Where is the farthest place you've ever been from home? Israel.
18. What is your favorite book? The Alex Rider books or the Wings of Fire books.
19. What are you most proud of? Being a good brother.
20. What is your favorite movie? The Hobbit Battle of the 5 Armies.
21. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? The chicken.

And, for fun, I asked him the same questions that James Lipton asks at the end of Inside the Actor's Studio.

1. What is your favorite word? Apple
2. What is your least favorite word? Grotesque
3. What turns you on? (I rephrased with, "What do you like?") Pizza
4. What turns you off? (I rephrased with, "What don't you like?") Times Square
5. What sound or noise do you love? Well, I did love Hamilton's squeaks.
6. What sound or noise do you hate? Styrofoam. 

7. What is your favorite curse word? The sh word.
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Dolphin Trainer at Sea World.
9. What profession would you not like to do? 

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? (I omitted the "If Heaven exists" part)? Hey, Buddy! You made it. I had some doubts along the way but you made it!

For Good

My buddy laughs a laugh I won't forget. Some people just have these beautiful laughs. Some people don't silent laugh as their shoulders convulse and/or snort through their noses like crazed donkeys as I do. Some people laugh and it warms your whole body through. My grandma was one of them. My buddy is another. I will miss every moment of not hearing that laugh--or being with the person behind it--when I am gone. She wrote a thing. Because, among other things like her laugh and her love for Jesus, she is an incredibly talented writer who, apparently, likes to torment people by making them cry. I love her. She asked if she could hijack my blog. She didn't ask me not to write a foreword. Big mistake. The following post is written by one of my dearest friends. Thank you, Abi Ririe, for sharing not only these words but also life, ministry, and theatre with me. I'll drive through a blizzard for Wicked tickets, but I'll drive through anything life throws at me if it means spending time with you.

I’d never seen a musical. 

Ok, that’s not true. 

I’d seen Grease on TV perhaps a hundred times. (The old one, you know, the good one.) It is one of those random shows that my husband likes. It’s weird;  typically he watches MLB, NFL, and Clash of the Titans (the new one, you know, the good one). But every now and then you realize he finds Groundhog Day hysterical, Maverick amusing, and Grease worth watching anytime it’s on TV… which is a lot. 

But I’d never seen a live musical. 

My buddy is a theater junkie. I would use the word “connoisseur”, but that fails to relay the threat level desperate she attains when theater deprived. (Dallas, Oregon if you do not have a proper theater in town, you might want to get on that.) 

So it was not appropriate that our friendship continue with me sans musical. 

In a driving blizzard that had kept the Salt Lake Valley hunkered in their holes, the cast of Wicked was prepping for their show. My buddy knew this because she’d gone two nights before with her son. She’d met them. They were tight. She knew things like Fiyero is “super tall”. And things about crown shenanigans going on with Jackie Burns and Kara Lindsay. 

I was very impressed. Stalking is a talent. 

Whilst snuggled in pjs against the cold outside, this text appeared: “I have a question for you, if you see this right away, and if you feel like being kinda crazy.” 

It just seems to happen whether I’m feeling it or not. 

So thirty minutes later she was driving through the snow to the Wicked lottery, and I was gussying up for the theatre. I mean we’re both good, godly, Christian women. We had prayed about this. Surely God would rig the drawing and let us win. (Insanity and legalism like long walks on the beach hand in hand.) After many prayers asking if she should turn around, after waiting out in the bitter cold, after someone named Laura Burnham (which is just cruel) won, I was starting to de-glindafy. Ah well. It was a nice thought. 

And then this text: “We didn’t win.” Obviously. “But I bought us tickets anyway.” 

After getting lost trying to find my house, getting stuck in the snow in a stranger’s driveway while turning around, and being dug out by my husband, we were off to Wicked. Well, Café Rio, and then Wicked. 

“I didn’t hate it.” I didn’t want to betray too much sentiment, while still seeming sufficiently grateful for her buying me tickets. I needed to process. I did process. All night. Instead of sleeping. And by morning I had a problem. I was in love with Wicked. My buddy had created a monster, Madame Morrible had zapped it with lightning, and Fiyero was dancing it off through life. 

How many times did we wait out in the snow for the chance at lottery tickets? Lots. We even considered the Sunday matinee shows, which would put us leaving church at 10:45 am. She’s a pastor’s wife. But I’m a proper heathen, so I could have gone. 

Okay, and all you super righteous folks, WE.DIDN’T. … we just talked about it. And some small part of us maybe wished we could. 

As we left empty-handed and broken-hearted, lottery after lottery, there may have been some small part of me that was pleased. Another day, another lottery, another hour hanging out with my buddy. 

She’s wonderful, you see. She would never tell you; because she’s so solidly a 1 that anything less than perfection is disappointment. But she is remarkable. 

She adopted a baby boy, which turned into legal, financial, emotional, and spiritual nightmare dragging on over a year. And then she turned around and adopted a girl. Except God had other plans, and she never got to hold Kate’s breathing body. And then she adopted Kate’s baby brother. Because she loved these children she had never met so desperately. Because she believes it is the right thing to do. Because God reveals and she responds, and she doesn’t petrify in fear because of the past. Because she is stronger than most of us. 

She’s wonderful because I know she is confused, frightened, imperfect, but still always faithful. 

She desperately needs everyone to like her. It’s the title of her soon-to-be autobiography, “I Need You to Like Me.” And while that is impossible, she is deeply loved. Thoroughly respected. Completely admired by all who know her. (Ok, maybe not by the meter-woman, who she mistook for a man, when we accidentally parked illegally trying to win Wicked tickets. I don’t think there’s much hope for that one.) 

She has challenged me, rejoiced with me, prayed with me, forgiven me, taught me, parallel-parked with me, worn crowns with me, and mourned with me. Like right now. She mourns with me now. And so does the heart of our God. He who sees the miracle coming, He who knows that great goodness awaits, but who still cries with His beloved. She shows me what the heart of God must be like. Full of life. Full of laughter. Full of wisdom. Full of goodness. 

It was the last performance for Kara Lindsay and Jackie Burns, my buddy’s new favorites (she’s seen Wicked before… a lot… she has a problem). One more lottery. 10 names called. You have to fill out the lottery card completely, or it’s put aside and another name is announced. 5 names called. Another card drawn. Not completely filled out. 6. 8. 9. Another card drawn. Not completely filled out. Another. Not completely filled out. And again. And another two after that. And then she pulled out the sixteenth name. The card had been folded in quarters then opened back up. The top edge was dog-eared. It looked strangely familiar. 

And then I heard my name. I later questioned if it was even my name, or if I had lapsed into a dream state. Most of my dreams have sharks. There were none. I must be awake. The nice lady holding my disheveled card looked at my driver’s license, the nice lady holding the door ushered me to the counter. The nice lady behind the counter… (I’m tempted to make some comment on gender and theatre, but I’ll save that for a professional… Buddy! I need you to comment.) Anyway, the nice lady behind the counter took my money, and slid over two Wicked tickets. For row B. That’s like, row A gets drenched with sweat when Fiyero flicks his head to the side, and Row B gets to see the vein on Kara Lindsay’s neck pop when she sings. 

It was a gift. Undeserved. Unexpected. Overwhelmingly appreciated. 

A gift for my buddy. A gift for me. A silly thing to share. And to recognize that our story is not unfamiliar. And that our Father’s heart is not indifferent to ours. 

As she embarks on a new journey, a new opportunity to defy gravity, she is unlimited. And now, remaining here, it is up to me. For both of us. “Because I knew you, I have been changed for good.” 

… 

… 

And also. Let’s just be honest. I totally made her popular.