We are a Match

My dear friend Sophie has three beautiful children.  One four-year-old daughter from a domestic adoption.  One three-year-old daughter from an international adoption.  And a year-old biological son.  She recently found out she is pregnant with identical twins.  She is my hero. 338037_10150489269508429_1700713925_o

She shared a story of her daughters, Zoelie and Azalea, finding common ground.  Zoelie is Hispanic and Azalea is African.  Zoelie was showing Azalea her tiny brown moles and pointing to them said, “You see, here I am brown like you.  And here.  And here too.  We’re a match.”  Azalea then, in turn, opened the palm of her hand widely, finding her lightest skin and said, “And look!  Here I am yellow like you!”  1000166_10151521125048429_2115290969_n

I was instantly reminded of the song Jesus Loves Me.  “Red and yellow, black and white, we are precious in His sight.”  I think common ground is what is so special and so critical to a strong MOPS group.  While we all come from different backgrounds and places in our lives, we all share the same story.  Motherhood brings us together and we find similarities and solidarity in doing the best we can each day to love our children, one another, and ourselves.

I am thankful everyday for the group of women I’ve found within Beaverton MOPS of St. Matthew.  Wom970781_10151555706088429_647259999_nen who share in the same struggles and the same joys that come with parenting young children.  Thank you for loving me and accepting me, just as I am.

I encourage you to reach out to a fellow MOP this week.  Send a card.  Make a phone call.  Take a meal.  Let her know we are in this together.  We are strong women, working toward a common goal.  WE ARE A MATCH.

Flying the Friendly Skies

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My family and I were taking a trip to Missouri to celebrate Father’s Day.  We had encountered some unexpected fuel problems while still on the ground in Portland.  Our flight that was scheduled to leave at 6AM didn’t depart until 11AM.  A small bump in the road.  Something I am accustomed to while traveling with 3 boys.  photo

Minutes within taking off, my youngest were fast asleep and Abe was happily engaged in technology.  The day was quickly improving.  Somewhere between Portland and Chicago, however, we encountered some heavy turbulence.  Unexpected.  Despite flying regularly, I was taken by surprise. And scared.  I watched as grown men clenched their arm rests with white knuckles.  And then set eyes on my boys.  Abe was still engrossed in Mine Craft and the twins slept soundly on my lap.  Not phased. They were fearless, resolute – even in the midst of turbulence.  I was reminded that is what God calls us to be as people of faith.

When the skies get bumpy, our solace and peace should be in the Lord.  He longs for a photorelationship with us.  For us to trust in Him.  Believe.  I raised a prayer up during the midst of the bumping and shaking.  The words of my Granny rang strong, “People who pray don’t need luck.”  The turbulence was short-lived and The Littles continued to sleep the reminder of the flight.

I felt the presence of God that day in more ways than one.  Continued prayers for all of us and smooth skies ahead!