How do you measure success?

Amazingly, Awesome Travelers

Here I am, about two thirds of my way to our 12 hour destination, riding in the "Party Van" complete with 12 seat belts and hand crank window winders. The Hubster and I are accompanied by our four youngest as well as a trailer full of racing, rowing shells (boats). We hit the road at 3:30 this morning when it was so dark in my hometown that the stars were beaming.  As we belted the children in, it was difficult not to feel a little sorry for myself because the duration of time my head rested on my pillow was only about three hours.  Why so late to bed?  We had to finish packing after returning from the Academic Award ceremony at the biggles high school. There our oldest was decorated with tassels, sashes and cords because of his achievements throughout his four year tenure. The Hubster and I were rewarded by receiving a plaque as a result of our contributions. Don't be mistaken, this was not due to us providing our 200 student charter school with some financial windfall. No, it was because of the time we have spent, as a family making sure the school's rowing crew was operational. 

Sitting on the metal bleachers, my mind wandered as I wondered, "How do I measure success?"   Is it in the trophies and gifts on the wall from those whom are appreciative of our efforts?  Is it in the in the accolades of others whom look at our family and ponder "Just how do they do it?" Is it in a paycheck we receive (if you knew what we live off of the answer to that question would be obvious) or possessions we own, or people we know? As much as these things are all well and good, the Hubster and I base our success upon what we do with what God has given us.  Whether it is children, chores, change or championships our goal is to do our best with what the Lord has provided. 

Our best often consists of late nights comforting friends, confronting people on behalf of a child, spending time listening to the youth both inside and outside of our home encouraging them to rise to the occasion. It consists of wiping noses as well as bottoms, tying shoes and hair.  It means last minute schedule changes and unexpected visitors, driving friends home as well as dropping kids off. Whether it is cold dinners or hot, cold toes or hot foreheads, at any moment we are to be  shining as best as possible. What we don't realize while in the midst of the job entrusted to us, is others are watching. Our children's friends, coworkers and even strangers are able to observe our every move. It is then that our success shines for us. All too often it is our failures can make us look dim. It is then, though, that God, if we allow, takes the difficult and turns it into the glorious.

Now I have about an hour left of my journey and, once again, I have attempted to put forth my best. I have missed blogging so much these past few months but my Lord has given me the subjects of many future posts. I leave you, today, with one final thought.

"Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come."

Proverbs 31:25

My Biggles getting set to row together for one last time!  (sniff, sniff)

Joe: What You See Is What You Get.

"My life is an open book." is a saying that pretty much applies in my case.  Not that the life I live is perfect in any way nor am I free and clear of embarrassing moments, much less poor decision making.  Accepting all of the beautiful and the ugly that I bring to this world helps me ou t of controlccept the situations that appear in my life. It also helps me to know my strengths and where I may need to lean on others a bit more.  The weaknesses are actually something I cherish, although sometimes reluctantly.  It is through those deficiencies that God often does His best work in me.  It is through my shortcomings that He tests my trust in Him.  Have you ever wondered, when met with a life changing moment, if you would rise to the call?  My children are used quite often to answer that question.  Each member of our family has a different chapter in my book that is ever changing and used to mature me emotionally as well as spiritually. 

The "Joe" chapter of our lives began rather abruptly.  While on his morning commute to work, and during his weekly phone call to the newest grandparent addition, the Hubster found out the baby had been born and was currently residing with the birth mom who was yet to be freed from her addiction.  Being foster parents, mandated reporters, and the adoptive parents of the baby's siblings, our hands were tied.  Legally, we had to make the call.  During our subsequent phone contact, I remember telling the Hubster, "We need to pray about this."  Although that was never accomplished together, I know our hearts were united with our Lord's as the day went on.

My job, going direct to the solution and contacting our recently relieved CPS case worker, skipping that toll free number all together.  As I relayed the current news, I found the words, "Keep us in mind." flowing effortlessly out of my mouth.  Her reply, "Are you sure?"  Our first meeting with this amazing social worker had occurred only eleven months prior.  Since that original contact she had been a key player in our recent adoption of Angel and Alize, which blessed her heart after knowing them for two and a half years.  For some reason, I don't think my affirmative answer surprised her much.

That is when the pacing in literal circles began.  While on the phone with a dear friend of mine I realized my most recent newborn was on her way to double digits that year.  "What do you need?" was heard over the receiver.  "Diapers?" was all I could think of as my mind continued to spin out of control.  As I remember, our day was up and down emotionally.  The Hubster was prepared to leave work as soon as the call would come in.  Which it did later in the afternoon and he soon came home.  We then needed to pick our older three from school.  Number four

had been hanging out with me all day as usual.  A crazy, exciting vibe was hovering around our family. Just thirteen months ago we had two kids and now, we were just about to receive number five.  

After a couple of false alarms and a drive-thru dinner we decided to keep our Wednesday schedule in tact. Once we had our minds set, we got the phone call.  Where would we like to meet and receive the five day old boy?  We were on our way to church, so why not there.  That was just where they would drop him off.  We like to say, Joe was delivered in the church parking lot.  We had a baby.  

Soon, in the church office, my sweet friend hauled in five Target bags filled with everything I would need.  As we emptied them, one item at a time, we were able to share this special moment with a couple other ladies.  Our impromptu shower was as sweet and as unexpected as the bundle I was blessed with just minutes prior.

Joe's inception into the Schulze family was an adventure.  His infancy was no less exciting.  Our newest member was quite vocal.  His song of choice was more like screaming, OK, it was screaming.  Our sweet baby would scream for anything and everything and not just a regular scream, it was a bone chilling, I understand why some people can't handle this, kind of scream.  Joe had been exposed to methamphetamine daily for at least the first five months of his pregnancy.  I am sure these screeches were the result of that cause.  

The next year we would bond as mother and son, spend time in courtrooms, with social workers, and at doctor's offices.  We would share visits with biological family as well as other adoptive families.  We would endure, spine tingling screams, sleepless nights, and the anxiety linked with adoption through the foster care system.  We would give this boy his first haircut at three months, watch him stand and then walk, and discover that sign language would minimize the shrieking greatly.  We would snuggle him, cuddle him, and fall in love with him.  After fifteen months in our care, Joe became a Schulze.

Now, as we grow closer to his seventh birthday I look at my son and see an articulate, charismatic, affectionate little guy.  I see an innate protective instinct that will assure the safety of many in his future.  I see his love for family, friends, and God.  I see his self confidence as well as his timidity.  I see a sparkle in his eye and a spring in his step when he is enjoying life.  I see deep pain and sorrow when things go astray. He feels intensely and loves profoundly.  This boy lives life to it's extreme.  

Because of his living life on the so-called edge, I wonder about his prospective future.  I wonder about the possibilities.  I know that whatever he encounters, he will take it head on, with his whole heart.  There is not much grey area with my fifth child.  He either does or he doesn't, he either is or he isn't, he either will or he won't.  With Joe, what you see is what you get.

My Biggest Cheerleader!

One of the greatest compliments I have ever received was, "Your kids feel comfortable in their own skin."  I mean, what more can a mom ask for than to have children confident with who they are?  When I say "confident" I in no way mean arrogant or selfish. No, I mean, OK with the life God has given them.

 In our family, my daughter, Emily, (the one that looks like me) embodies this the most, I think. The casual certainty in what is deemed important is woven throughout most areas in her life.  Just shy of 16 years old, Emily will tell you it is the trials she has been through that has helped her to avoid the typical teenage torrents.  I will tell you she arrived in this world with a rare mixture of quiet, independence.

As a little thing she often eyed people with a, "who are you and what are you doing in my world" kind of look.  Nap times did not consist of snuggling Mommy until you succumb to sleep.  Nope, it was, "I want my own bed period" kind of stuff.  Emily's prayers were solidly consistent.  In fact, I am sure both the Hubster and I could have recited it verbatim.  Breakfast, lunch, dinner, bedtime or just because, it was the same exact prayer every time.  

Every time but one.  I was listening to her expected prayer when, quite matter of fact, she interrupted her familiar supplication with, "and Jesus please be in my heart." No big deal just accepted the Messiah as her Lord and Savior, that's all.   She then continued on as usual.  But things weren't usual after that.  My opinionated, selective little five year old seemed to soften.  Sweetness was seen more often as well as other honorable personality traits.  I remember asking our Children's Pastor whether her request that night counted or not.  I was used to Eric, 19 months older and reminded of his sin daily.  He accepted the Savior every time his head hit his pillow, just to make sure.

Soon, at school as well as at church, Emily would be the child who would embrace the new kid and make them feel comfortable.  She began to feel for others and see things from differing aspects.  This new emotional self seemed to confuse her for awhile. I remember sitting in the movie theater with tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched Boo's door disappears through the chipper. In early elementary school, her two closest friends were heated rivals.  The girls would literally fight over who could sit with my daughter. During those moments she did not feel safe but, at the same time, didn't want to hurt any one's feelings.  Our solution was to have Emily ask the teacher choose a different friend to sit by.  Then there was the seven year old Tom Cruise look-a-like who was adamant at stealing a kiss from her, more than once, at school.  She was so little she didn't even understand the emotions she was experiencing.  I would often need to shore up my daughter's overactive empathy, giving her the tools she needed to get through her day.

Amazing pic of an Amazing girl by an Amazing Photographer 

Those tools would come in handy when she was no longer the youngest in the family.  Her first three little siblings would put her through the emotional wringer.  It didn't take long before she was able to strengthen herself and stand firm as their big sister. When we came to Eric and her with the news of a fourth, now biological, sibling, she cried.  Going from zero to three little brothers and sisters in about a year had taken it's toll.  "I don't want anymore siblings!" was her lament that night.  I explained to her that, when Eric was ten months old, I certainly wasn't looking to get pregnant.  I wouldn't have missed out on her for the world though.

 After that, she was my biggest cheerleader.  Now, she is Jillie's biggest fan also, as well as being a huge fan of the rest of her siblings and anyone else who falls into her circle. At any time a conversation with my oldest daughter you can tell that her family is extremely important to her. In fact, when given the opportunity to speak solely about herself, she almost always will fit in family also.

I love that God has taught her to "roll with the punches".  Life is too short to take it so seriously.  At the same time, it's too long to not do something about it.  Living a life with purpose as well as humor has been her strong point and will get her far.  

Ten years later, I say that prayer counted and is evident in the way she lives her life.  Is she perfect?  No, one look at her room and you can see that.  Does the "teenager" ever creep in?  Occasionally, but she doesn't stay for long.  Does the future make her nervous?  Most definitely, growing up has not been easy for my oldest daughter.  That alone is rare in today's society.  I have been content with her slow road to adulthood. In our fast paced world, taking your time to mature is a precious thing.  I'm glad she makes sure to have fun on the way.

Amazing pic of an Amazing girl by an Amazing Photographer