The Human Race

The Human Race   by Heather Bowman 4/16/13

Running the Race

Beset around

By those who would Harm

Or have us bound

In Fear, in Silence,

Without Voice

To stand for Truth

To make our Choice

None of us know

When ends our race

We all must run:

Hold on to Grace!

We truly never have Control

Yes, Evil would destroy your Soul

But The Victor of Peace

Is at the End

So keep running Strong,

And help a friend

Our Savior has already won!

So keep your eyes upon the Son

The First and the Last

Will see you through

So Finish Well:

He’ll Carry you

Too Much Information

Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and other social media outlets have made it very easy for us to be inundated by the details of hundreds of people's lives. It's much easier to know far more information about a wide group of acquaintances than it was twenty years ago. I enjoy reading a few blogs and scanning my Facebook news feed each day, as it enables me to see photographs and read updates from many of my friends and family. However, sometimes what I see and read leads me to feel deficient as a mother because I've never taken my daughter for a pedicure, made an amazing birthday cake, or taken my kids to a classical music concert. When I begin to feel this way, I try to remind myself of three things. First, I am creating a composite of what many different moms are doing with their children. One mom couldn't be doing all of the things I am reading about with their children. My four-year-old daughter is currently involved in ballet, tap, and soccer - three things I've never done, and yet I don't feel deprived because I haven't experienced those things. I was busy doing other things like reading books, playing the flute, taking ice skating lessons, and practicing the piano. Secondly, I tell myself that God wanted my precious children to have me as their mother. I should continue to strive to grow as a person and as a mother, but He knew my personality, strengths, weaknesses, and interests when He gave me these children. Finally, things like cakes and crafts are really unimportant in the grand scheme of life. I want my children to experience the unconditional love of their parents and Heavenly Father. I pray that each of them will develop a personal relationship with the Lord and strive to grow closer to Him all throughout their lives. I am sure most moms throughout history have struggled with "mommy guilt" from time to time, but social media has made it possible for us to compare ourselves to far more people on a daily basis. If I keep my eyes on Christ and look to Him for wisdom, I am certain I'll be exactly the mother God intended my children to have.

Breathing

"In Him we live and move and have our being."  When you're pregnant that Scripture hits home in a new way.  There's a tiny being living and moving inside of you.  I usually got a little crazy as delivery got closer.  Kurt quit questioning late night trips to buy dish towels and a freezer full of lasagna.

I'm starting to get the same kind of urges over my novel.  I've been working on it for five years or so, and in the beginning it was quite content to move along three or four hours on Saturday night.  Not so anymore.  I find myself rereading material.  I constantly evaluate progress, and I'm looking for as many ways to squeeze out more writing time as I can.

It's a book with a deeply spiritual purpose and just as I had to rely on God for each child's development, I have to trust him for this paper child's development as well.  I can't make the writing good.  In fact at the moment I'm happy if I can say it's not bad.  I can only follow the Spirit's breath as he lives and moves inside my being.

The Unexpected

    Six months ago.... The fall weather was creeping in, quietly changing the trees from their former green to beautiful shades of oranges, yellows, and reds.  We were working toward adopting what would have been our sixth child, my homeschooling adventure with my 2 youngest daughters was beginning to find a rhythm, our sons' football seasons were in full swing, and our oldest daughter had started college. Life was humming along.

    Then it happened. Within a few days time life fell apart. We were faced with not just one major crisis, but several. And today we are left with only 3 of our children living the nightmare with us.

    My oldest had recently turned 18 and had started the new chapter of her life... College. I was so proud of her! She had come to us at age 12 and we adopted her at age 14. We watched her grow into a beautiful young lady and looked forward to celebrating each future success.  But, she left.......

    She just walked out with a few of her things to "think about things". It was 2 weeks before we were able to confirm that she and her boyfriend had gone to Ohio and moved in with her birth family. Communication over the past six months has been sketchy at best.

    I know that God has a plan for her life even though it is terrifying to watch it unfold. BUT..... today.... I just miss her.
   

Bat Barakah - "Daughter of the Blessing"

I declare, I do get invited to the most interesting celebrations!  This weekend I am attending a Bat Barakah ceremony and celebration for the daughter of some very dear friends.  A Bar/Bat Barakah (meaning "son/daughter of the blessing or grace") is a ceremonial blessing at the time of puberty in which the father releases a son or daughter spiritually and emotionally into manhood or womanhood.  It is similar to the Jewish Bar/Bat Mitzvah (means "son /daughter of the law").

In investigating the purpose of this ceremony, I have come to learn that most cultures observe some sort of rite of passage from childhood to adulthood, but it is generally absent from our American culture.  It is important for a child to receive his or her father's blessing in order to establish his or her identity and to walk into his or her destiny.   As I read about this, different ones came to my mind whose parents, especially the father, have been absent from their lives, and I have watched them struggle to find acceptance, identity, and love, many times in the wrong places and from the wrong people.  Hmmm...

Anyway, back to my friends.  I have watched them raise both of their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and I am looking forward to adding my blessing to theirs as her father proclaims over her, "This is my beloved daughter, in whom I am well pleased."  I have been asking the Lord for an appropriate spiritually minded gift, and a special word of blessing for her.  I also look forward to watching her grow and mature into the beautiful woman of God that I am already beginning to see.  Exciting!!!

Baruch Ata Adonai; Blessed are You, Lord our God!

"I figured I'd let God take care of you"

We were not the only ones to notice that our daughter Sarah
was different from other children. When we would go to a
restaurant, invariably, when our order arrived, one of us would
need to take Sarah out, so those around us could enjoy their
dinner. She would become uncontrollable. One time, while with 
my parents, we had to leave the restaurant entirely because 
she began screaming, while others looked on in disgust.

Sometimes you don't know the whole of your story until you share
it with others. My husband was asked to speak & I sing for a very
small congregation. He spoke of my one fallopian tube being removed 
and the other being severely damaged. No cause was found but in an
effort to fix me, I was put on a medicine that shut down my reproductive
system. By the grace of God, I found out that this drug could have killed 
me, should I have continued with it, as instructed. We were told that we
would not likely have children, and if I ever became pregnant, I would 
have to be watched very closely. All this I knew, then he said, "We 
prayed for a child, and God gave us Sarah without any doctor intervention
at all." Afterwards I asked, "Why did you lie & tell people we prayed for a
child?" He said, "I prayed." I said, "well that would be a nice thing to 
discuss with me first, don't ya think?" He said, "I figured I'd let God take 
care of you."

We began taking Sarah to Children's Hospital. They told us her hearing was 

fine, but her speech was severely delayed. They could not test for neurological

problems until she was 5. Since Sarah's birth was a total God thing, and never

supposed to happen, I guess I figured she would be an easy child. However, God had a different plan that was unfolding before my eyes, I just couldn't see it at the time.

Surely this is not my home....

When I walk into a room that is now in disarray. Papers and toys and cereal, oh the cereal strung about

When I catch the unwelcoming glances from across the room and feel the void of comfort

When I hunger for something more in the midst of silence and worship

Surely this is not my home....

And I hear, no dear child, this is not

This is training ground for your sweet arrows

A place for you to pour out in community 

For only I can quench what you hunger for

Rest in me, for I am your joy and strength....Surely this is not your home

R U OK?

     Three little words.  Also said as, "How are you holding up?"  I pause and think now about this question.  I ask it everyday of my toddler Ellanor who will invariably fall face forward into a wall.  I have gone from rushing in with major concern to "Are you OK?"  This is so much so my fall back default setting that after she falls her default response is, "I'm oday."  ...Even before I ask.  Even before she truly knows that she is OK or not....
   
     Those that read the blog know that my friend my age recently lost her husband.  I watched her valiantly go through the "Are you OK's?" in the church lobby.  While I know that in my church the person really wants to truly know, I wondered in other settings, what the asker was really asking.  Did one truly want to know how to help, or did one just want reassurance that one did not have to worry?  I look at my friend, try hard to put myself in her shoes, and know that for many years and in many ways, she will not be "OK" on some levels.

     I've started looking at situations like this and want to consciously start moving to, "How can I help?" or "What do you need?"  This response acknowledges that a profound hurt has happened and that I truly am interested in helping, not just interested in being reassured.  This example was set for me by a friend who is quickly becoming dear.  She read some of my status updates on facebook, and came over right away to help.  She didn't ask, "Are you OK?"  She asked, "What can I do to help?" and the difference spoke volumes to my soul.