Finding my delight in the journey of adoption.

Posts tagged “Jen Hatmaker


BB and I are dying to know – is there some sort of study that has proven that babies prefer the sound of the pan flute as opposed to actual orchestration? Why don’t these baby toys just play Beethoven’s Ninth by the full orchestra?

I’ve been warned.  Being pregnant, giving birth, nursing, all these things will ruin my body.  I’ll be all used up by the time Fred is 6 months old.  It makes me wonder, what would I be saving myself for? 

I want to be used.  My body was designed (in part) to bring forth life.  My breasts were designed to provide food.  My body is here for a function.  Even if it wasn’t child-bearing, my hands are meant to wash, build, create.  My feet are to meant to walk, run.  My back should be bent.  I’m not a priceless work of art, meant only for observation.

Our culture strives to preserve – save your money, use the candlesticks only for special occasions, keep your skin out of the sun, wear rubber gloves, keep your shoes out of the mud.  We don’t want to get dirty.  We don’t want to be used.  We want our bodies, homes, cars, brains, kept fresh until….until what?  What are we saving ourselves for?

We are about to embark on another 7-style purge of our home.  This one’s going to be bigger, deeper, more painful.  I’m scared.  I love my stuff.  It’s not all materialistic – some of the love comes from the memories the things hold.  The warm coat that’s insulated me at the bus stop, the running shoes in which I’ve logged miles, the skillet that has cooked many a meal, the platter given by a friend, the sweater picked out by my mom.

But then I kick myself.  Here I’m giving away so many items that I was saving for something special.  Why didn’t I use the wedding china more often?  Why have I only worn that necklace once?  I didn’t know that one day I would be called to give it all up.

Our vats are overflowing, and we build another barn to hold it.  Spend it.  Use it.  This life is fleeting.  You can’t take it with you…not in the next life, and sometimes in this one.

We save our money for an emergency.  But (as Francis Chan once asked), is it only an emergency if it affects our family? 

We save our time like misers.  We have to work hard, and we will serve others later.  We will have that date night with our spouse next month.  We will spend more time with the children once we get this last errand run.  What if later never comes? 

Spend it.  Wear it.  Use it.  Jesus’ body was broken, used.  His blood was shed for us. 



It’s official.  I have a problem.  The first step is admitting it.  I am addicted to chocolate.  I think Baby Bean is also addicted to chocolate, which explains why my addiction has escalated over the past months.  Chocolate totally grossed me out during the first trimester, and I had hoped that maybe the love wouldn’t come back so fiercely.  Alas, not to be.  The only thing that’s keeping me from eating three candy bars a day is the knowledge that slaves are used to harvest cocoa.  Unfortunately, there’s such thing as fair trade chocolate.

I don’t think I can move on to any other steps except admitting that I am powerless over this addiction and not ready to change it.

Remember when I didn’t eat chocolate for an entire month?  That was hard.  There were times I didn’t think I would make it.  I wanted to quit so badly.  Well, I have a friend about to start the 7 fast in January.  Pray for her (and those fasting with her).  You can follow her journey here:

I love that there are nutty people out there trying to really live the gospel.  I’m so challenged by these amazing friends.  Another friend was telling me yesterday about how she and her two daughters had breakfast with a homeless woman on Sunday.  What a blessing to her daughters, to model such love.

My other sweet friend met a former stripper last week and is taking her to a Bible study with Eve’s Angels ( tonight.  (I was supposed to go with but this baby keeps disrupting my sleep making me turn into a zombie around 6 pm!  Argh.  Maybe next time…)

Between these ladies and my adoptive-mom friends and so many others, I am humbled.  Yes, there’s more to do.  There’s so much hurt and suffering in the world, but there is hope shining through.  God is working, and it’s awfully fun to watch. 

Go Kat!  We can’t wait to hear what you learn from 7.  Enjoy those Christmas cookies while you still can.