Time does not heal

Fourteen years.  A lot can happen in that amount of time. Trials, celebrations, new beginnings, and even some good-byes.  Time can be a funny thing.  It can camouflage itself as a sloth as it races by like a jaguar.  It masks itself as money, only to prove itself priceless.  It can trick you into believing it is healing you, separating you from the things you want to forget, when it's actually distancing you from some of the most precious moments in life.

I've often wondered what it would be like to live outside of its limitations, its trickery.  I am beginning to understand how that could be possible.  Sometimes it feels like fourteen years ago was yesterday. Sometimes it feels like a different lifetime.  This continuum we live on is so fickle.  Wait, then hurry.  Stop and smell the roses.  The early bird gets the worm.  Enjoy the moment.  Seize the day. SLOW DOWN.  Don't get left behind.

We can't stop it.  We can't control it.  It's simply a resource.  And a tricky one at that. It's manipulative as it disguises itself as something we have plenty of, then looks back and smiles over it's shoulder with a shrug as the last of it runs out.  It bolsters a high value and the thing of most importance.  After all, it's an important currency in building relationships so there is a high value to it.  It is perhaps one of the most valuable resources we have.  But it quietly slips through our fingers when we are not watching. It's slippery and treacherous and valuable and priceless all at once.

One thing I know for sure about it though...time does NOT heal.

No matter how much time passes between the day my daughter left this world and now, time does not help. Fourteen years does nothing to cover the scar from when my soul was ripped in two. Fourteen years doesn't take away the pain of empty arms or breasts full of milk with no sweet baby to nourish.  Or dreams that have no hope of ever coming true. Time can't fix the pain and confusion in my other children's hearts as to why their sister is gone.  It doesn't help my son who loved his little sister with a great and innocent love that turned into a loss so deep and irreparable, the wound is still throbbing. Time does nothing for that. Except for maybe allowing us to fortify and strengthen those walls we build that keep us from feeling the hurt.  But those same walls also lock out the joy.

Those walls become thick, calloused and numb.  While that's good to protect us from the pain, it also separates us from the good times, the celebrations, the memories, the things yet to come.  I don't ever want to stop feeling the love I had in my heart when I held my daughter close.  When I nursed her.  When I dressed her and combed her hair.  When I sang to her with visions and dreams of her life to come. When I prayed for her future.  He had a plan for her, too, right?  What happened?  Or is it still happening?

We get caught up in the promises of the Bible and equate them to earthly promises and success.  A promise of a future does not necessarily mean the same in God's eyes as it does through the eyes of our world.  We have to keep our eyes fixed on the things of Heaven.

In HIS timeline, Kaylee's future still is.  His time doesn't stop when our hearts do.  She still has a purpose and a plan.  She still even has a legacy here on this earth.  It may not look like those dreams that danced in my head as I held her in my arms for three months, but it is powerful.  She still has much to do for the rest of eternity and her short life here on earth can still have an impact if I turn to God and trust in Him to carry it out.

It is only through HIM that we can survive such a loss.  Time has nothing to do with it.

If you are in the Miami area, we will be honoring our little girl with a ladybug release on the anniversary of her passing.  We do this every year as a way to help us all remember her and to help keep her close to our hearts and our eyes fixed on Jesus.  We've deemed March 29 as Ladybug Day and have done it every year since she passed in memory of her.  She was our Ladybug.  A sweet soul that came into our lives and chased away some of the bad bugs that were trying to separate us from the True Vine.

Here is an explanation of how and why we celebrate Ladybug Day. 

Ladybug Day is a celebration of life our family loves to share with our friends and their children.  The kids love it and the message is sticks.  God hears our prayers.  Always. If you and your family would like to join us, you can email me at ladybugjung@gmail.com for more info.

I Surrender.

Teenagers.  The word itself strikes fear in some.  Especially if you're a parent.  Whew.  Even with all the books, counseling and workshops out there, the task of raising one of these creatures into adulthood seems to be daunting.  I had a mother of twelve once tell me that when her boys hit adolescence, it was strictly survival mode.  But I've always been a little cocky. I know...hard to believe, right? :) Even downright invincible sometimes (at least in my mind), so I thought I'd maneuver through this parent-of-a-teen gig rather smoothly.  I mean, up until this point, parenting and I had gotten along quite well..with the exception of potty-training my Kaleb...but that's a different post. The point is, I felt pretty confident as a parent as my oldest rounded the corner into teen-hood.

SMACK.

That was reality slapping me so hard in the face the whelp is still visible nearly five years later.

Parents, of younger kiddos, STAY VIGILANT.  It will make that smack of reality much less painful if you set boundaries, establish authority, develop relationship, and build them up in the LORD now.

And really, my oldest is a great kid...or shall I say young man.  He's got a good head on his shoulders.  Very insightful.  One of the best sense of humors.  And God has gifted him with unbelievable talent as a musician. My very own personal rock star.  Often times, it's easy to forget he's only 17.

But we have our moments.  They are fewer and farther between now, thank God.  But they still creep up. If one of us is over-tired or anxious.  Or if we have a super-busy week and don't get a chance to talk about schedules or plans and things are miscommunicated.  Or money...just not enough of it to go around.  Mostly it's me being scared to death I'm not doing this whole parenting thing right.

We just can't seem to see eye-to-eye sometimes.  They think we're controlling them.  We think we're protecting them.  They think we're being nosey.  We think we're building relationships.  They think we're overprotective.  We think "What happened to my BABY!?!?!"

The other day I told someone that nothing has tested my faith more than being the parent of a teen.  Nothing. Even as the words rolled off my fingertips (I was typing them :)  I questioned them.  Really?  How could this be true?  I've buried a child.  Nothing could test your faith like that, right?  I must be wrong.  But my behavior with my son would suggest otherwise.  I've had more panic attacks since his 13th birthday than I had for years after we lost Kaylee.  How can this be so?  I've even had people comment on how my family walked so gracefully through that time of loss.  Grace could certainly not be used to describe my demeanor as I parent my teen. What the heck is wrong with me?

At church this past Sunday my pastor spoke on how in the midst of tragedy, and no matter what happens here on this earth, God is always with us.  I never felt His presence more than when we lost our daughter. There was nothing of me left.  I can remember times when it felt as if he was literally breathing for me...because I just didn't have the will to do it on my own.  I had no idea how to cope with this loss.  All I could do was rest in Him.  There was no taking matters into my own hands.  There was nothing I could fix or change.  My hands were tied, so I surrendered.

I surrendered.  That's it.  I surrendered to HIS way.  I listened to HIS wisdom.  I rested in HIS strength.

Not exactly been my prominent parenting strategy these last few years.  And there ya go.  I wasn't trusting God for my son's life.  I was doing things my way.  Scrambling to find man's knowledge and approval, and doing it all in my own strength.

My oldest turns 18 in less than two months.  I will have an adult child.  Still hard to believe.  But I know that God is working in him.  I know God has a plan and a purpose for him.  A plan to prosper him, not to harm him. A plan for a hope and future.  I will continue to pray and parent, but God, please help me to do it in YOUR strength and with YOUR wisdom.  I will trust the promises you have for my son, just as I trust you have them for me.  I will get out of your way and allow you to write the testimony of his life that will proclaim your glory.  And it will be much better than I could have ever done on my own.

He has Conquered the Grave!

It's that time of year again!  Time to celebrate that Jesus conquered the grave.  I'm so glad Ladybug Day is close to Easter, it helps me stay focused and to remember we don't have to fear death!  I know my Ladybug is waiting for me with Jesus, and one day I will hold her in my arms again.  I hope many of you can join us as we celebrate her memory and honor the legacy she left behind.  Below is the original post for  this blog explaining what Ladybug Day is and why we celebrate.  I pray you are blessed by the sweet memory of my little girl, Kaylee. 

Repost 06/14/2009                                                              

OK, it's been on my heart to start blogging for quite some time now. Could give a number of excuses for it, but since I hate excuses, I won't bore you with mine :) Anyway, I'm gonna give it a try. Perhaps in the process, I can get a little therapy through writing and possibly even provide some encouragement for others.

Those that know me will totally understand the name I gave the blog :) For those that don't, it's not about natural pesticides or a cutesy reference for all things "girly." For me, ladybugs remind me of my faith in God, and my sweet little girl, Kaylee. Kaylee was only in our lives for three short months. Well, actually, I guess it was a full year if you count the time she was growing inside of me. But at the age of 3 months and 2 days, she died suddenly due to an undetected heart defect.

I praise God for the time we had with her. I know I'm probably biased, but she was absolutely the most beautiful baby. And I'm sure this sounds cliche, but she touched the hearts of all who laid eyes on her. We couldn't go anywhere without people just loving all over her...and of course she was giving it right back. The small Korean church where we were serving, couldn't have a service if she was there. NO ONE paid any attention to the poor pastor...they were all focused on little Kaylee. :) She had this plush ladybug rattle that she loved. And she had a bouncy seat with a ladybug, caterpillar, and butterfly. She would giggle as she watched them spin and dangle in front of her. She had these adorable little pink pajamas with, you guessed it, ladybugs all over them :) She was our little ladybug.

When the first anniversary of her death began to approach, I searched and searched for a meaningful way to remember her. I couldn't just forget. It wasn't possible. And for those out there dealing with the same type of issue who are trying to forget a lost loved one, please stop. It won't work. The option of locking myself in my room and crying all day sounded appealing to a part of me, but the wiser part (although it's a much smaller part :) knew that wasn't healthy. I had to come up with a way to honor her memory, but more importantly, honor the God who helped my family get through the previous year.

Everytime I saw a ladybug, it reminded me of her. So, I looked into ladybugs and the history of them. Sounds silly, eh? But what I found out led me to what we decided was the perfect way of celebrating little Kaylee as well as pointing us back to Christ. You see, ladybugs are what you call "good bugs." They eat the "bad bugs." After finding that out, I realized that Kaylee truly was a ladybug in every sense. You see, her short little existence was enough to eat up a lot of the bad things in my life and in the lives of my family. Her smile melted bitterness. Her laugh destroyed anger. Even her cry fought off impatience and selfishness. And her death brought us to our knees pleading with God for help. He did just that. I know Kaylee is safe in heaven waiting on me. I miss her everyday, but I know I'll see my little ladybug again. Without a doubt. And until that time, I will do my very best to keep those bad bugs far from me and those around me.

So, that's what I would like this blog to be about. Fighting off those bad bugs and other things that come into our lives and eat up all that is good. God, thank you for the ladybugs!


How the Ladybug got its Name
In Medieval time in Europe, bad bugs were destroying all the crops. The farmers prayed and these little red beetles showed up. They ate up all the bad bugs and saved the crops. They named these good bugs after the Virgin Mary, calling them Beetles of the Lady, because they believed that God had answered their prayers and sent the bugs to save them. Over time, the name has changed to Lady beetles, Ladybirds, and now the most common, Ladybugs. So now every time you see one of those cute little ladybugs, you can be reminded that God hears and answers our prayers!

We've declared March 29 Ladybug Day. We usually release live ladybugs some where and give out some kind of ladybug token with cards explaining the story of the ladybug and the verse Jeremiah 33:3. It's helped us turn a day that probably would be unbearable into something that encourages us, our family and hopefully those around us. To know that even in death, my little girl can still make an impact to those whose lives she touches is healing.

Eleven years. Wow.  Time passes by so quickly when we aren't looking.  Sometimes it seems like a blink of an eye, yet at other times, a whole different lifetime.  The picture on the right was taken just a day before Kaylee went home to meet Jesus.  I like to believe she's praying for us in it.  It makes me smile. Somehow it's as if she knows what the next day will bring. 

Burying a child isn't normal.  But even harder still is the simple task of living after such a tragedy.  People ask me how we got through it. But you're never THROUGH it.  That suggests some sort of finality or ending.  The pain of losing a child doesn't end.  It's a wound that never heals. 

Thank God for a Savior that tends to that wound on a daily basis.  Another death, the holidays, a birthday, a familiar laugh, a special toy or song, all or any of these things split the scar wide open again.  Only the salve of Christ's love can ease the pain.  Cover it so nothing else gets in there and makes it worse.  Protect it from infection of bitterness, anger, and other things of this world that tend to find their way into our hurting hearts. 

Later today we will make a ladybug cake.  We'll sing and celebrate the birthday of my little girl who is not here with us.  My little girl who never got to have a birthday party.  Never got to learn to play piano.  Never got to swim.  Never spoke a word.  Never had a first kiss.  The nevers could go on and on.  They are endless. And they are where the bitterness lie.  I cannot go there.  At least I cannot stay.

I tell my boy, Kaleb, who struggles with anxiety and some pretty intense emotions, "Don't focus on the bad, think of the GOOD things." So that's what I will do.

For three months, I got to hold the most beaufitul baby girl of all time.  I got to nurse her and love her.  I got to see her first smile and hear her first coo. I got to give her her first bath and feed her her first cereal.  I got to comfort her when she cried.  I got to hold her in my arms when she left this world. And I get to love her forever.

So yes, today we will bake a cake and sing and celebrate the birthday of the little girl that changed our lives forever.  Looking forward to the day when we can all celebrate together.

In honor of our Ladybug's birthday, please say a prayer for one of the parents who lost their child at Sandy Hook.  Please lift them up by name. They are listed below.  I know that so many people prayed for my family after we lost Kaylee.  That is how we get through.  Only by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Pray specifically that His light will shine bright into their lives.  So bright they cannot ignore it.  That the peace that passes all understanding will rest on them and in them.  That what the enemy meant for harm, God will turn into good for generations for each of these families.  That they will know and trust in Him alone through it all.

- Charlotte Bacon
- Daniel Barden
- Rachel Davino
- Olivia Engel
- Josephine Gay
- Ana M. Marquez-Greene
- Dylan Hockley
- Dawn Hochsprung
- Madeleine F. Hsu
- Catherine V. Hubbard
- Chase Kowalski
- Jesse Lewis
- James Mattioli
- Grace McDonnell
- Anne Marie Murphy
- Emilie Parker
- Jack Pinto
- Noah Pozner
- Caroline Previdi
- Jessica Rekos
- Avielle Richman
- Lauren Rousseau
- Mary Sherlach
- Victoria Soto
- Benjamin Wheeler
- Allison N. Wyatt

He Didn't Choose Me

In my 39 years of life, I've really only known 2 people who've taken their own lives.  My sophomore year there was a spree at our high school.  Three guys committed suicide in a matter of months.  I really only knew one of them.  It was so unthinkable to me even then.  At that point, I had had my share of traumatic events and depressing situations, but NEVER had I EVER considered suicide.  Could things really be that bad?  And while I wasn't really close to Larry, we did run in the same circle.  So many of my close friends were very close to him.  I saw the pain they were going through.  It was horrible. 

But that wasn't my first brush with suicide.  I can remember going to the hospital on Easter to visit my father once.  I must have been about 8 or 9 years old.  I remember my mom getting my brother and I up like it was any other Easter and dressing us in our special Easter outfits.  We went to church, and then to the hospital.  It was weird because I didn't remember my dad being sick, but suddenly he was in the hospital.  He didn't look sick.  I've since learned he was hospitalized after an obviously unsuccessful suicide attempt. The years that followed were filled with threat after threat and even more attempts.  Somehow a part of me always knew that's how it would end.

Today is the anniversary of the day my dad chose death.  He was sick.  I know.  He had problems.  But I can't get around the fact that he chose death.  Death over seeing his daughter get married.  Death over seeing his first granddaughter be born in just 2 months.  Death over me.  I know our relationship wasn't always the best, but I loved him.  I wanted him to be happy.  Was our relationship so bad that when confronted with the option between death and his daughter, he didn't choose me?

The last time we spoke was the day before.  It was September 11, 2001.  We were all numb and in shock over the thousands of people that were just killed.  We fought.  How cliche. My last words to him were in the midst of a fight.  I know in my mind that it was his choice, but in my heart, I still feel responsibility.  I try not to beat myself up with the what-ifs.  Somedays that's easier than others.

I still don't get suicide.  It has to be the most selfish act ever.  I have felt the worst pain possible in burying my own child, and still, I cannot see how anyone could do it.  When they came in and told me my little girl didn't make it, yes, the pain was unthinkable.  I literally felt my soul rip.  And if I'm completely honest, I can say there was a moment that my desire to breath waned.  But then I thought of my son.  How could I not go on?  What about Kedric?  What about my husband?  What about my mother, and Dave, and my brother and sisters?  How could I make their pain worse?  Together we would get through this.  I chose to keep living. 

I just wish my father had done the same.  And I wish I could have helped him with that.

Just Drink

The other day, a friend of mine was watching as I fed my 5 month old and made the comment that she loved watching babies eat.  "It's so peacful," she confessed.  I would agree with that. Watching an infant receive just what he needs from someone who loves him with all they have, it's a picture of trust we just don't often see in this world.

My son trusts me completely to give him everything he needs.  When he's eating, he's completely content.  He's not worried about how the milk was made or where it came from.  He's not worried about his next bottle, or if I'm going to change his diaper so his bottom doesn't get red, or anything else I do for him on a daily basis.  He trusts me completely.  He doesn't have to worry about anything.  He just drinks.

What a wonderful thing.  Complete trust.  No doubt or worries.  Just resting and knowing your needs will be met.  I could so learn from that.  I know in my heart that God will take care of me, but sometimes, as I've said before, my head takes over and doesn't always see things the same way.  Especially when uncertainty rears its head.  When we moved to Miami, we weren't able to sell our home in Montgomery.  We've struggled with bad tenants who never pay rent on time or at all, a property manager that skipped town, huge unexpected expenses for repairs and damages, and just a lot of extra hassle.  Not only does it take up a considerable amount of money, but dealing with all these things also takes time.  We've come very close to losing the house, and therefore our credit, more than a couple times. But each time it's worked out. Money has literally fallen in our lap when we least expected it. Or the bank has extended our grace period one more time.  Or the tenants get a conscience and finally pay rent. Or my amazing parents extend us an interest-free loan. However it happens, He works it out.  As long as we're living under the umbrella of His protection, our Heavenly Father takes care of us.  Just like I take care of my son. 

So, even though I have no idea how He's going to make this next month work, I'm trusting He is. I'm not going to worry about the next month, or the one after that.  I don't have to.  He hasn't let me down yet and He won't.  When I truly need it, He'll have it.  So I, too, will just drink.  

"Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him." Psalm 34:8

Choices

Life is full of choices.  Sometimes we want to blame others for the situations we are in, but often, they're simply a result of choices we've made.  Of course there are the obvious times when we screw up and have to deal with the consequences.  You hurt someone = lost relationship.  You spend to much money = too much debt.  You stay up late = you're tired the next day, can't think clearly, and often end up making more bad choices that lead to even more consequences. But sometimes, even the good choices we make can lead to consequences.

We call it sacrifice.  That's a nice word.  We like to think of ourselves as sacrificing for the good of others...especially mothers.  I've made many choices as a mother.  With my first, I chose to work outside the home.  I really felt I had no choice...I was single, no help from the dad...again stemming from a choice I made.  But in all honesty, I did have a choice.  I could have gone into the system, lived in subsidized housing and off the government, or my family.  And to a point I did rely on those services.  However, I chose to work and get through the rest of my college.  I didn't have as much of a social life as my friends.  My child spent a LOT of time with grandparents, which I'm grateful for.  But it was hard to be away from him, and eventually, I quit an amazing job at Toyota because I just couldn't stand having other people raise my child.  My choice.

I took a job at a social work agency.  LOVED what I was doing.  Felt like I was really helping people.  And I still got off in time to spend quality time with my kiddo.  But it wasn't all roses.  Our income dropped drastically.  Debt incurred.  Stress developed.  And frustration set in.  I began looking for another job and landed a great position at a community college being a part-time instructor.  The hours were better and so was the pay.  And, I love teaching...still felt like I was helping people.  My kid was in a good school. I had another baby.  Life was good.

Funny how life events change our perspective.

When she was three months old, we lost our second child.  It was sudden and unexpected.  And of course, had a profound effect on me.  I realized how short life is and how precious our children are.  I wanted to dedicate my life to them.  God had given them to me as a gift.  He had placed them in my care and I wanted to give them the very best of me.

When I was growing up, I always had notions of being a strong working mom.  I watched my mom do it and had so much respect for her.  My dream was to have a successful career.  I had a real drive and ambition. I planned on going back to school, getting my MBA, and blowing the heck out of those glass ceilings!  Never did I consider being a stay-at-home mom.  Thought never even crossed my mind.  Ever.  That's why I know it had to come from God.  He changed my heart.  He turned it toward my family.  Then He provided a way.

I wanted to bless my family with all of me.  And my arms that had ached for another baby after our loss, now wanted to have a house FULL of them!  God placed women in my life that had the same calling who taught me a lot.  We began homeschooling.  And I LOVED it.  I had always loved teaching.  There's a connection created between teacher and student when something is learned.  That connection is magnified and so much more special when it's your own child.  I don't profess that parents who don't homeschool are bad parents. I think it's a choice we make.  And I thank God for allowing it to be an option for us.  We revisit the decision often and if we're ever called away from it, then we'll follow God.

Our oldest is now in school.  I question this decision often, but am trusting God has a purpose and a plan for him. He's been able to reach out and invite MANY of his school friends to church.  Perhaps that is why God has him there now.  But I'm glad we were able to pour into him in the beginning so he could have a more solid foundation. Or perhaps God was using our first child to prepare me for our third...who would seriously struggle in a traditional school setting.  But none of that matters.  We were prepared to meet his needs and continue on with our homeschooling, knowing that God is providing the best for him through a loving and non-threatening learning environment.  A place he can learn his way and be encouraged, not judged and compared.  Again, there may come a time when God has him in school, but until then, we feel strongly that this is what God wants for our family.

This is what we choose. So what is the sacrifice?  That corporate driven side of me has to be held in check a lot.  It will rear it's ugly head and cry, "What about me? I can do that!  I want to be involved in that!"  I want to be successful in what I do.  I admit it, I want to be respected and valued.  Sometimes, people look at me and see only this stay-at home mom who's homeschooling her kids...weird.  :)  They don't know the side of me that has a degree and fought with the big dogs in corporate America.  Or the fact that I've been in ministry for nearly 10 years.  They see only what's in front of them...and often I fall into the trap of proving myself.  Jeesh.  Why?  I don't have to do anything except what is pleasing to God.  Why do I seek the approval of man? Why do I care if I'm overlooked or left out? I've chosen this.  Me.  If I want the other...to run crazy hard after another great mission and vision...I have to let this one go.   And I don't feel God is calling me away from this one just yet.  One day.  Yes.

One day, the kids will be grown, or they'll all be in school.  And then, I can run hard after something else.  Until then,  I have to give the rest a little less.  Right now God has given me this as my priority and I'm choosing to follow and trust Him on it.  He has given me a mighty mission in my family.  An admirable one.  I will not run away from it.  I will not give up.  I will not blame others for the decisions I've made.  I will embrace this season of my life and be grateful for the choices God has given me.  And the beautiful children he has blessed me with.

-This is a re-post that is extremely relevant in my life right now. One thing that's changed is that our oldest is coming back home for school. I don't regret anything. I think God had him in school for a reason, and now he's coming back home for a recap on that solid foundation before he soars off into this world on his own. So blessed to be a mom!

Grief's a Mug

Kedric and Kaylee, Early March 2002

Tomorrow will be ten years.  Ten years since I've held my sweet Kaylee in my arms.  Ten years since I gazed into her deep brown, knowing eyes.  Ten years since I sang to her.  Sometimes it seems longer.  Sometimes it seems like yesterday.  I don't know if it will ever get easier.  Sometimes I just bust out into tears...my friends tell me I'm hormonal from just having Kai, but I don't know.  Poor Kai, if he so much as coughs, I have him at the doctor.  I KNOW they think I'm crazy.  

I've never been through a "Ladybug Day" with an infant.  Kai is not that far off from Kaylee's age when she died.  My other kids were much older and, I don't know, sturdier it seemed for past Ladybug Days.  Not sure if that's why it seems harder or not.  He's also the first one that really has resembled her.  There are times I just can't help but think of her when I look at him. Especially since he's started smiling.  He has her smile.  I think God waited 10 years on purpose for that.  Maybe I couldn't have handled it before. But when he cracks that smile, it's amazing.  How can a heart be filled with such joy and sorrow at the same time?

I know my God will help me tomorrow.  I want Ladybug Day to be a celebration.  A time to be grateful for the time we have with the precious gifts God has given us.  A day to celebrate His unfailing love, even in the midst of death.  He doesn't promise us an easy life, just that He will walk through it all with us.  Natalie Grant has a song called "Held."  I love it.  Listen to it often.  Reminds us of this.  Here is the chorus.

This is what it means
To be held
How it feels
When the sacred is torn from your life, and you survive
This is what it is
To be loved
And to know
That the promise was when everything fell, we'd be held.

Here's a link to the full song:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oy6tW28GceQ

The song holds many parallels to our experience.  Kaylee was just three months old.  And I was praying, with my whole heart and soul, when she died.  And I know that bitterness that can so easily settle in my heart.  I have tasted it.  I pray that I can open that wise hand and see the beauty that will unfold, even from her short life.

I love you, Ladybug.
Mama Jung

Ladybug day is almost here!

Ladybug day will be here in just a few short weeks!  Not sure what it's all about?  Here's a repost of my first blog explaining this special day we've created to honor the memory of our daughter, Kaylee.  Hope you can join us!  We'll be releasing live ladybugs this year at JC Bermudez park and celebrating afterwards at our home. 

Repost 06/14/2009                                                             

OK, it's been on my heart to start blogging for quite some time now. Could give a number of excuses for it, but since I hate excuses, I won't bore you with mine :) Anyway, I'm gonna give it a try. Perhaps in the process, I can get a little therapy through writing and possibly even provide some encouragement for others.

Those that know me will totally understand the name I gave the blog :) For those that don't, it's not about natural pesticides or a cutesy reference for all things "girly." For me, ladybugs remind me of my faith in God, and my sweet little girl, Kaylee. Kaylee was only in our lives for three short months. Well, actually, I guess it was a full year if you count the time she was growing inside of me. But at the age of 3 months and 2 days, she died suddenly due to an undetected heart defect.

I praise God for the time we had with her. I know I'm probably biased, but she was absolutely the most beautiful baby. And I'm sure this sounds cliche, but she touched the hearts of all who laid eyes on her. We couldn't go anywhere without people just loving all over her...and of course she was giving it right back. The small Korean church where we were serving, couldn't have a service if she was there. NO ONE paid any attention to the poor pastor...they were all focused on little Kaylee. :) She had this plush ladybug rattle that she loved. And she had a bouncy seat with a ladybug, caterpillar, and butterfly. She would giggle as she watched them spin and dangle in front of her. She had these adorable little pink pajamas with, you guessed it, ladybugs all over them :) She was our little ladybug.

When the first anniversary of her death began to approach, I searched and searched for a meaningful way to remember her. I couldn't just forget. It wasn't possible. And for those out there dealing with the same type of issue who are trying to forget a lost loved one, please stop. It won't work. The option of locking myself in my room and crying all day sounded appealing to a part of me, but the wiser part (although it's a much smaller part :) knew that wasn't healthy. I had to come up with a way to honor her memory, but more importantly, honor the God who helped my family get through the previous year.

Everytime I saw a ladybug, it reminded me of her. So, I looked into ladybugs and the history of them. Sounds silly, eh? But what I found out led me to what we decided was the perfect way of celebrating little Kaylee as well as pointing us back to Christ. You see, ladybugs are what you call "good bugs." They eat the "bad bugs." After finding that out, I realized that Kaylee truly was a ladybug in every sense. You see, her short little existence was enough to eat up a lot of the bad things in my life and in the lives of my family. Her smile melted bitterness. Her laugh destroyed anger. Even her cry fought off impatience and selfishness. And her death brought us to our knees pleading with God for help. He did just that. I know Kaylee is safe in heaven waiting on me. I miss her everyday, but I know I'll see my little ladybug again. Without a doubt. And until that time, I will do my very best to keep those bad bugs far from me and those around me.

So, that's what I would like this blog to be about. Fighting off those bad bugs and other things that come into our lives and eat up all that is good. God, thank you for the ladybugs!


How the Ladybug got its Name
In Medieval time in Europe, bad bugs were destroying all the crops. The farmers prayed and these little red beetles showed up. They ate up all the bad bugs and saved the crops. They named these good bugs after the Virgin Mary, calling them Beetles of the Lady, because they believed that God had answered their prayers and sent the bugs to save them. Over time, the name has changed to Lady beetles, Ladybirds, and now the most common, Ladybugs. So now every time you see one of those cute little ladybugs, you can be reminded that God hears and answers our prayers!

We've declared March 29 Ladybug Day. We usually release live ladybugs some where and give out some kind of ladybug token with cards explaining the story of the ladybug and the verse Jeremiah 33:3. It's helped us turn a day that probably would be unbearable into something that encourages us, our family and hopefully those around us. To know that even in death, my little girl can still make an impact to those whose lives she touches is healing.

Coming Home

Been awhile.  Sad that most of my posts start out with that statement.  This time, however, I may just have a reasonable excuse.  I had a baby last month!  Number five.  People usually respond to that with one of two exclamations:  "You're crazy!" or "You're brave!"  I've accepted the truth probably lies somewhere in between. 

So, the last month has been a time of finding a new "regular" in the Jung home.  We're getting there, but I will admit, it has been a bit of a bumpy ride. The first week especially.  More so than you're regular first-week-with-a-new-baby bumpy.  Our sweet baby boy spent the first week of his life in Intensive Care. It was what they call a step-down unit...Intermediate.  So he wasn't the sickest of babies, but he had to be under constant observation.  It was hard enough that he couldn't be in the room with me.  I couldn't nurse him that first night even.  He was all the way on another floor and in another wing of the building.  It seemed like miles to get to him. 

Then I was discharged.  They actually told me to go home without him.  How could I leave without my baby? My sweet, brand new, baby boy.  He was helpless.  He needed his mom.  And they want me to leave him here all alone? Sure, the nurses in the NICU were amazing, but none of them love him like I do. A baby needs his momma. How can I leave him so young?

We knew this was going to be a possibility since the second day. In my mind I had been working out how I could get through it...the things I would tell myself.  But I honestly wasn't sure if I could physically make myself leave the building. Everytime I would think about it, my legs would get weak. I could sleep in the chairs in the waiting room (actually security would have chased me out.) I could find an empty room in a quiet wing and hide in a bed. But on the other hand, I had three kids at home that needed me, too. And they all needed their mom to be healthy and strong. I asked for prayer, and by God's grace I was able to walk out of the building.

The next couple days were a whirlwind. I wish I could say I moved through this trial with grace, faithfully trusting my Heavenly Father every step of the way.  But that'd probably be a lie.  I did my very best to get to the hospital every three hours to nurse him. My mother and husband were probably about to check me back into the hospital...but this time, not in the maternity ward. I slept about 2 hours a day.  No joke.  Between the drive to and from the hospital, eating and drinking healthy so my milk would come in, giving the other kids at least a little attention from mom, pumping when we missed a feeding, and a shower every other day or so, there just wasn't much time for sleep.  My main focus was getting back to Kai. I didn't even have time to realize how tired I was.

Then it happened.  I was nursing him Saturday night.  Dad was there with me.  We have him right in front of his little incubator and he was still all plugged up to his monitors and IV.  Test results had come back.  His billirubin level was 19.  The charge nurse practically ripped him off my breast and said we have to get him back under his light.  They even went and got two other special lights, one to go under him and another in front of him.  Now I couldn't even hold him.  I didn't understand. The nurse explained to me that if his number gets to 20, he goes to the higher level ICU and they start discussing options for blood transfusions.  WHAT JUST HAPPENED?  I thought he was just jaundiced? 

I went into a tailspin.  It was happening again.  The doctors and nurses assured me he was going to be fine as long as we let them do their job. They quoted statistics to me. So did my husband.  All in his favor of course.  But statistics and logic don't do much good for a mom who's already lost one child to a very RARE heart defect that happens less than .2% of the time. Statistics had not been my friend. The heart is not logical. I don't want to hear how good his chances are, I want him to be in my arms and home.  I just wanted to take him home!  And now, I have to leave again?  When he's even sicker?  Why, God?

My husband struggles when I'm in the midst of an anxiety attack. I imagine it's partly because he wants to fix it, and can't.  And partly because the whole guys-not-dealing-with-tears-well thing.  He tries, bless his heart.  But he was also hurting and sleep-deprived.  We were a mess.  I called my friend, Crystal.  She prayed with me on the phone as I walked out of the hospital.  And then I found out afterward, she unleashed the prayer warriors!  I came home for another two hours sleep and then back to the hospital. 

His numbers weren't down, but it wasn't the steady climb of the last couple days.  We prayed more.  And the next test, they were DOWN!  And then down some more!  Could it be we might be going home soon?  Kai's brothers and sister were beside themselves wanting him home too!  We all wanted to be home.  The craziness of the last couple days was starting to wear on us all.  I actually begin having hallucinations Sunday afternoon. I'm sure it was sleep-deprivation.  I decided I better try and get at least 4 hours sleep that night. 

Tuesday afternoon the news came...he was released!!  We were sooo excited!  Finally, our family could be together!  I will never forget the feeling riding in the car on the way home. Pure joy. And that night, we didn't really do anything special, just ate together...as a family...and watched some tv together...all of us...as a family. It was SO nice to just be all together in the same room.  It made me think of heaven.  I mean after all, this earth is not our home.  We're all here, waiting until the day we get discharged, so we can go to our true home with God.  And sometimes, just like a stay in the hospital, our stay here can be rocky. Full of uncertainty.  Sometimes we're even away from the ones we love.  I wonder if those loved ones who've gone on before get excited about us "coming home." I wonder if they're waiting patiently and watching as we go through our struggles here, rooting us on, pleading and intercessing for us when we're in trouble. Longing for that day when they can bring us home and we can all be together.  What a glorious day that will be. 

Kai is doing wonderfully now.  Had his 1-month check up yesterday and all looks good! He's tough. Runs in the family :)  And if you were one of those prayer warriors out there covering us last month, we are SO grateful for you!  What a beautiful thing when God's people come together in prayer!

The One True Source

Been a long time :)  I know.  Just started a new book and thought I'd share some of my thoughts.  It's called Secrets of the Secret Place, by Bob Sorge.  I've just read the first three chapters, but excited on how it's going to challenge me to really, REALLY, go deeper in my quiet time...or secret place.

In the first chapter I was immediately struck by the following sentence:

"I've watched myself return persistently to the sources which are no source."

Man have I done that.  I think we all do.  When we're tired or worn out, even if it's from serving God, and we think we need a break...we need to relax.  What do we do?  Flip the TV on.  Veg out.  Eat.  Exercise (obsessively).  Call up that gossipy friend who will tell us what we want to hear so we feel better. Even those of us who call ourselves mature Christians.  We latch onto these "sources"  that do precisely the opposite of what we need. Instead, they actually sap our energy supply in most cases.  The only true source is God.  So why do we turn to substitutes?

No really, why do we do it?  I'm guilty of it.  I know sometimes if I'm not challenged or pushed I won't do what I know is needed, what is good for me.  Why?  I know that everytime I workout, I feel GREAT afterwards.  I know that everytime I eat healthy, I feel good.  Everytime I read a good book, I feel wiser.  Everytime I read God's word, and truly think about and meditate on what I've read, I feel inspired.  I feel encouraged.  I feel strong. And everytime I truly spend time seeking God's presence, I feel peaceful.

So why do we resist?  It's actually kind of funny.  I mean, I'm usually a very driven person.  The go-to when someone wants to get something done.  I can run circles around many when it comes to productivity.  When it's hard, I can dig deep and find the will to push on and get something done.  Buzzer shots and the last lap are my specialty.  So why in certain areas, can I just not get it done?

Because I can't.  Because I'm relying on me.  My will.  My previous success in other areas is quite possibly exactly what's causing my failure in these important ones.  I'm trying to do it in my own power.  I'm not resting in Him.   I've got to give it to God...all of it.  I've got to rely on the only one true source.  He's the only one that can refill me.

"Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again.  The water that I will give him will become in him s a spring of water welling up to eternal life." John 4:13-14

Ladybug Day is almost here!

This Tuesday marks another Ladybug Day...the ninth for us. Hard to believe. Sometimes it feels like little Kaylee was in my arms just yesterday. I can feel her breath on my neck as I held her to burp her. See her adorable crooked smile as I sing to her. Get lost in those huge deep brown eyes. I thank God that those memories are still so intense. I miss her terribly, but the thought of not having even memories is gut-wrenching. I know one day I'll hold my baby girl again. I know she is safe...she's saving a place for all of us...me, dad, and her brothers and sister...and anyone else reading this post who calls Jesus their Lord and Savior. Grief is strange. This year for some strange reason I keep finding myself angry. I'm not angry at God...I truly know He's working all things together for good. But anger is the feeling I keep confronting. It's been nine years. Why does it still hurt SO bad? It's frustrating. I think deep inside I know that it will never stop. I don't even know if it gets easier...you just learn to keep moving forward. We learn to live with the pain instead of running from it. You can't hide, so why waste the energy running? Might as well deal with it and try and figure out the lesson in it. That's how I've dealt anyway. When it comes to fight or flight, I've always been a fighter. I wrestle with the grief until it gives me something...until I figure out why God has me here. I want to learn the lesson so I can get out of this place! Maybe that's why I'm angry this year. It's been nine years, and still, it hurts. Bad. WHY AM I STILL HERE STUCK IN THIS PAIN? I've always been goal-oriented, seeking after progress, reaching for the next level. But this still feels the same. Nine years. No progress. Sometimes it still hurts like it was yesterday. God, I don't know why you have me here in this place, but I trust you. And if this is where you want me, broken, hurting, I know there is a purpose. There must be. This Tuesday at 6:30pm we'll be setting ladybugs free at Morgan Levy Park in Doral if anyone wants to join! We do this every year in her honor and tell others the story of the ladybug and reminding them that God is faithful and answers prayer!

Unashamedely Christian

Last night a good friend of mine and I had the opportunity to attend and present at a homeschool orientation meeting in Miami. I've attended many of these functions, in many different states and communities so they're a familiar scene for me. However, this one was a bit different. Most of the homeschool communities I've been a part of are Christian-based. I mean, there's a spectrum, but still they were centered around God. This orientation was for a community that is not faith-based. As I listened to the lady present the different types of curriculum I heard a phrase several times that made me cringe: "and although this is a Christian curriculum, it's very good...and again I know this is Christian, but it's still good." She was apologizing for recommending a Christ-centered method. Wow. I had witnessed this in the "outside" world, but never in the homeschooling community, where it's supposed to be safe. I knew from research I had done when we moved here that there were several secular groups in Dade county, but to actually hear someone apologize for recommending Christ, well, something really hit me hard. I could hear her say it over and over again in my head.

I was so proud to be a part of our group, Classical Conversations. My friend stood there and said we are unashamedely a Christian program. The mission of CC is "To know God and to make Him known." What a task we have ahead of us here in Dade county. We are the first group to break the county line. Other CC start-up attempts have failed in the past and we are praying that God will allow us to break through this year.

Our church is also witnessing the same thing. Lives are being changed here in our community. Strongholds are being broken. It's NOT easy. And it's not always fun. But it's worth it. I know that God is moving in Dade county. I know He loves the people of Miami JUST as much as Fort Lauderdale and Montgomery and Korea and Indiana...and I'm just excited to be a part of it all.

My Faith Child

Tomorrow is my Kaleb's 7th birthday. He's so excited. I know it's cliche, but I can't believe it's been that long since he came into our lives. Each of my children have taught me things...they're not just blessings from God, but He packages them as lessons to help us grow, too. And they're each so different its amazing. Kaleb's taught me to enjoy the little things. He notices details that most of us overlook. When I get my hair done, he's ALWAYS the first to notice, and compliment me on it. He's gonna make a great husband one day :) He feels things and experiences emotions deeper and more quickly than most. And he shares that with you. When he hugs you, you feel it to your core. He's embracing all of you and doesn't hold back anything. He's got a smile that reaches down deep into his soul and eyes full of warmth. But when he hurts, his heart breaks. And so does yours. I sometimes worry about him because he is so sensitve, but I know God has molded him for a purpose so I will trust His perfect plan.

When we found out we were pregnant with Kaleb, we were overjoyed! The 9 months before we had lost our daughter, Kaylee to a heart defect. Although no one could replace our sweet baby girl, my arms felt so empty they physically ached for another child. So he was definitely an answer to prayer. We had a girls name all picked out. I had been reading the book of Job and wanted to name our girl after his daughter, "Kezziah" (of course with our little twist because we can't do anything simply). I loved the name. It helped me remember the story of Job and his faith and how even though he'd lost everything, he never lost faith in God; and God rewarded him. I was trying to live that out through our loss. But when we found out he was a boy, it was back to the drawing board for the name. I couldn't find the names of Job's sons and I knew that the name we chose would have to be good. Every time I called my child I wanted to be reminded of that faith. I NEEDED to be reminded of it. Or else I would go crazy with anxiety. Plus, it had to start with a 'K' :) We'd already had two K babies, and we would have another girl, later (Kezziah...with a twist) because I just knew in my heart God WAS going to give me another little girl. So I didn't want him to be the odd one out :) It was right about then that I was reminded of the story of Joshua and Caleb. Our pastor actually taught on it the next week. Hey, you can spell Caleb with a K :) So I decided to dive in a little deeper. I learned Caleb was a man of great faith. And not only did he trust God in ALL things, but he was confident and even audacious with his faith. I pray my Kaleb can have that same faith. I pray he can live out a life that is centered in Christ and NEVER backs down from the giants and challenges in this world. He's got a long way to go, but I know God has something in store for him. He will rush those mountains and take those giants when he has to, when God calls him. That I know for sure.

Happy Birthday, to my sweet Kaleb. May you forever be filled with faith in our Awesome Creator and the joy that comes Him alone.

I am a villain.

Currently, our church is doing a series on heroes and villains, and how they're "made." We all got shirts with either a big H for Hero or V for Villain on them. I chose the V. Many people ask, "WHY?" :) I don't know. Maybe it's like my scarlet letter :) I know myself too well to think of myself as a hero. On any given day I feel WAY more villainous. Thankfully, I know my God loves me no matter who I am or what I've done.

This past weekend was the anniversary of my father's death. It's been 8 years since he left us. Although my relationship with my father was not exactly easy, through all the good and bad, I never stopped loving him. I know he felt the same for my brother and me; although sometimes he just didn't know how to show it. My dad battled some mental health issues. It took me a while to accept that. I've learned that I don't have to understand everything, but just to accept and remember that God is in control, working ALL things to the good of those that love Him. Even my dad. Even my relationship with my dad. Even his death. Somehow. I just have to trust.

Everyone remembers Sept 11, 2001. On that afternoon, I spoke to my dad on the phone. Well, actually, there wasn't much speaking involved. He called upset. Not about the thousands of people who had just been killed, but about his life. He was in the middle of his third divorce and I felt like he was trying to manipulate me into feeling guilty. I never react well to that, and that day was no exception. I lit into him. I was angry. Angry at all the grief he had caused me growing up, angry at all the hurt he'd caused my mother, angry at the pain he'd caused for my little brother and sister. I was NOT AT ALL interested in a pity party for him. And I told him.

I never spoke to him again. The next night, September 12, 2001, he went into his garage, turned on his truck, crawled to the back of it, and propped himself up right next to the tail pipe. He wanted to go fast. I cannot imagine the pain he must have felt. It physically hurts me to think about it. Maybe if I would have been more understanding and less judgemental. Maybe.

Since my father's death, I've been able to go back and remember some of the good times. When we was alive, our relationship was so volatile, that was hard to do. My anger toward him is melting. Instead of focusing on all the bad, I'm remembering the good. He instilled in me two loves that are still a big part of my life today. Basketball and music.

My dad taught me how to post up, drive to the basket and "forced" me to shoot an sick jump shot. He also LOVED music. He was talented, too. Had a voice like James Ingram. I loved to hear him sing. When we were younger, he used to sing in a gospel group that traveled around the area performing at different churches and events. One of my favorite songs to listen to him sing was "And Because He Lives." I just wish he would have remembered the words to that song that night in September.

"And because He lives
I can face tomorrow
Because He lives
All fear is gone
And because I know
He holds the future
And life is worth the living
Just because He lives."

I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry you felt such pain. I Love you. You'd be SO proud of your grandson, Kedric. He's a musician like you. And I promise, instead of condemning, I will always try to listen to the pain in others' voices from now on. I will instill hope in those around me. Instead of pointing out their pitfalls and faults, I will point them to Christ who will cover and fill them all.

Are you a hero or a villain? Check out amiahero.com Or go to http://www.flamingoroadchurch.com/teachings and listen to a great message on how to take the tragedies in our lives and use them to find our purpose.

Cure for a bad mood

Not sure what it was this morning...even late last night. But I was in a funk. Most people around me wouldn't have known it, except maybe my husband...who did ask me several times last night, "Are you ok?" Course I gave him the answer he always gives me..."I'm fine." Which I by the way hate when he does that to me...sorry babe. :) Honestly though, I don't really know what was wrong. Just one of those funks.

On my to-do list today was prepping for the College and Life Success class I'm starting next week for the highschoolers in one of our homeschool co-ops. So, regardless of my attitude, with a pout on my face, I started. The first lesson is supposed to be motivational...propelling the students to really dive right in and throw off those things that are hindering them from reaching their potential. The class is based in biblical ideas of discipline and self-leadership. So guess what I had to do...dive into my Bible and do a little research. Then I pulled out my notes from my pastor on talks he's given on leadership and discipline, and next to some John Maxwell and other great leaders' books and my own notes on them. While I was working, I was able to offer some encouraging words via text and email to a friend who is going through a tough time. During a break from my lesson plan writing, I was able to spend some time on the phone talking to a great friend and leader with whom I can be honest with and I know she will be honest in return, telling me what I need to hear, even if it's not what my flesh wants to hear.

Wow. It's been a couple hours and the pout and sour attitude are history. They've been replaced with an amazing feeling of gratitude and peace that only my Heavenly Father could provide. Circumstances haven't changed, but I know my God is in control and He is faithful!

So, the cure for my bad mood? God's word, the words of the leaders in your life that know God's truths, sharing that truth with others, and a chat with a good friend :) Plus, in a few hours I get to go hear some even more wisdom and encouraging words and take part in some amazing worship at church. Doesn't get any better!

So, what helps you refocus and get back on track?

Where does your hope come from?

I just finished an interview with someone asking my husband and I about the story of Kaylee, our daughter. Before I went, I thought I was mentally prepared...thought about what I would say, talked to my husband about it, even jotted a few notes down. But of course, when the spotlight was on, some of it just flew out the window. I hate that. I want to be more intentional about being able to tell my story and explain to others what God has truly done in my life. The Bible tells us we are always to be prepared to give an answer for the hope that we have. I had an answer, but it could have been better. More meaningful...less cliche. I need to be better prepared for that. I want to be better prepared. Are you prepared? What would you say to someone who asked you where your hope comes from?

Diving in

Our middle boy, Kaleb, has never really been much on swimming. Our oldest was half-fish. Seriously. His first word was "in" and he was talking about the water. So Kaleb's fear of water and going under was always a bit perplexing to me. We never pushed him, but now he's six and really doesn't know how to swim well at all.

Being in South Florida and surrounded by water now, I figure he needs to learn. SO I enrolled him in swim lessons. When I broke the news to him, it was a complete meltdown. I MEAN COMPLETE MELTDOWN!! After he calmed down, we talked and I explained the importance of being able to swim...for his own safety, and even his little sister's safety and how he could help her.

Something clicked. That afternoon we were going to the community pool to just play around. On the way, he said, "Mom, I'm putting the goggles on and going under." I was like, "OK, honey." AS SOON AS we got to the pool, he pulled the goggles on and ran right over and dove in. I couldn't believe it! He was under for like 10 seconds. Then he BURST up from the water screaming, "I DID IT!!! I DID IT!!" It was truly one of the sweetest moments. He was SO proud of himself. He did it again, and again. Each time bursting from the water and exclaiming his success! The pool was rather crowded and everyone around was smiling and watching him. I wonder if he encouraged any of them the way he did me. He overcame that fear. Just head down and ran full-blast right at it. I don't know if it was for his own survival or the thought of being able to help his sister, but it gave him the strength to do it.

What are you afraid of doing? Is it hindering you from living out your full God potential? Pray and ask God to help you dive right in!

Passing the Baton

My Bible reading this morning was about David passing the rule of Israel over to Solomon. Then, when I open up twitter, there's a tweet asking "What are you doing for the next spiritual generation?" with a link to an article. Hmm. Two nudges from unrelated sources within 30 minutes? Maybe this is important.



As I mentioned earlier, my Bible reading was about David and his son Solomon. David wanted to build the temple, but God said no, however, God told him it would be David's son, Solomon who built it. What's interesting to me and what I think we can seriously learn from is what David does with this. Instead of spending the rest of his life in sorrow because he cannot build the temple, he begins preparing his son.



Solomon is known as one of the wisest men to ever live. His rule in Israel was a peaceful one, and he did build that amazing temple for God. But look at all David did to set the stage. David's rule was not peaceful. He beat back Israel's attackers and made it clear, through God's help and providence, that God's people were not to be messed with. He laid the groundwork for that peace. And as far as the temple goes, David began work gathering and stockpiling materials before Solomon became King. He got things ready. He prepared for the next generation. Because of his investments, his faith, his heart for God, the next generation of Israel were able to live in peace and advance God's kingdom.



What are we doing to invest in the next spritual generation? What are we doing to lay the groundwork for the future of the kingdom? Will our children be prepared to lead out when we pass the baton?

Endurance

Today I read a blog about endurance. It's part of a book study our church is leading...different bloggers are reading a chapter a day out of 6 different christian leadership books and blogging about the main points of the chapter. Then we all discuss it. By the end of the summer, we'll have read 6 books! AWESOME IDEA!!!

But back to endurance. This is something I've always struggled with. Even physically. I can powerfully BURST outta the blocks and blow everyone away...at first. Then something happens. I've blamed boredom in the past. "I'm not challenged...it's too easy now..." But I think that's a cop out. I know I need to develop endurance. Recently I started running, with the intention of "competing" in a half-marathon in January. I'd never ran more than a mile in my life...and that wasn't pretty. I started my training May 2. Ran 3 times a week every week until the end of June, then it dropped to 2. I say I'm bored with it, but I don't think that's the case. Discipline and endurance. It's what I lack. It's what I need to run a half-marathon. It's what I need to live the life God wants me to live. God, help me to develop this endurance. (Is that like praying for patience?) Even if it is, Lord, I trust in You and ask You to mold me into the person You created me to be...my full God potential.