Who am I a Mother to?

In high school, our Bible teacher Fran Sciacca would challenge us. He would ask us what we wanted to be when we grew up. A doctor? That's great. Now, where will you go and be a doctor? A lawyer, a teacher...who will you do this for?

I have to admit that Fran's faithful efforts to stretch our (my) mind for the cause of Christ were often drowned out by the ticking clock, as I counted seconds to the bell, days to the weekend, weeks to summer.

But God graciously refused to let Fran's influence leave our lives. And I heard him ask me that question again. This time I was in his Sunday school class, eight months pregnant with Caleb. The same question, this time to men and women who were seasoned, comfortable, planned. Again, I pushed aside, hoping that Jamie was listening. Because me, I was retiring for good. I would be a mommy. I felt Caleb's heel outlines pressing against my swollen belly.

Two wonderfully unexpected additions later, I listened to Fran ask the question again in another class setting, and again. And then, I began meditating on it all the time. I remember defending myself to God in my time with Him one morning, thinking I don't have anything to do in a really radical way. His reply was the same as mine that second time...You're a mother.

It seemed obvious who and where I would be a mother. Three sons, four and under, followed me around all day. But as this question continued to echo through our lives, we began to embrace it, as driving force. Not for legalism, or rules, but because of who our Savior gave His life for and because of where He came to do it....because of His deep love for us.

We reached a place where many a mother dreads to go, and toyed with the homeschooling word, and we recognized the Father was calling us to own it for this season. Not because it was the right way, but because we knew He wanted us to be the the full-time models of repentance and faith before our sons, again for this season.

I thought for sure that was the answer. But the question continued to whisper in our home. Who will you be a mother to?

And then I saw Jamie's heart break for the fatherless. He said, I want to be passionate about the things our Father is passionate about: the widow, the stranger...the fatherless. I want our lives to be about this.

How will we find time to do this? I asked.

We do life with them.

So who am I a mother to? I'm a mother to three sons, who are my crowning joy, but I'm also a mother to the fatherless....the motherless. My heavenly Father has not simply commanded me, but intimately invited me, as the bride of His Son to love those most lovely to Him.

How can I do this with laundry, and homeschooling, and chores, and life?

My answer....How can I refuse?

Teenager in the Home

I'm procrastinating. Grades are due for my two little homeschool classes tomorrow morning, and I have to give myself breaks in between, or the words run together. So I'm thinking...

We found out Monday that Big Sis M will be leaving us within the next two weeks. She's glowing, not because she's ready to leave us, but as she's said over and over, "He did it, Catie. He really answered my prayers." She's gaining a family that desperately longs for her. She's worth that and so much more.

From the moment we discovered she would be joining us two month ago, we had many sympathetic comments. "I'm so sorry your being thrown into the world of a teenage girl. Be ready for the crying, the demands, the hormones."

We were pretty terrified.

Then we studied this 13-year-old Chinese girl who had joined our family. We watched her. We watched her heart seeking out her Savior because He had sought her first. We watched her fears and excitement over the little and big things.

The truth...

Where other teenage girls are fretting over what to wear today, my sweet girl is fretting over how many of her clothes to give away, because she believes she has too much.

Where other girls are striving to make money for shopping trips and outings, my sweet girl is earning money to send to her homeland, so "every girl in China can hear of her savior."

Where other girls are stressing over boys and friends, my sweet girl has been patiently waiting for someone to call her daughter.

And we've had the honor of watching all of this in our home. Next week, my sweet sister for eternity will move into her new family, the one that's been longing for, praying for, and hoping for her long before they ever knew her name.

I'm so grateful I have a teenager in my home.

Little Sis M

There's no lie. We're smitten with her. It's interesting. I've been asked four times in two days if we love her like we love our own. Are the emotions the same? Could they be when you know what could be ahead?

Our God is so amazing. His love has no stipulations. What's more amazing is that the spirit of my God lives in me.

Yes, I love her. Yes, I love Big Sis M. But, it's not about me. I was running (for the first time in five weeks). I was thinking about how I have not prayed hardly at all for Little M's family this last week. Things haven't been going well, and I've honestly written many things off in regards to Little's Momma.

Then God whispered to me, "Catie, the moment you stop praying for her, is the moment you begin to believe that I'm not big enough for her. And Catie, if I'm not big enough for her, I'm not big enough for you. And Catie, I'm big enough for you. My Son is still on His throne, even if you never see me move with your eyes. My son is on His throne."

Then I wept.

Yes, I love her. But my sights would be so short, and I would miss so much if this were about me. It's about My Father, My Savior, His Kingdom, and the work He has promised to fulfill, even if I never see it here on earth.

And that, I love.