parenting – Page 2

December 6, 2017 By HallieZ 4 Comments

I can do all things

One of my mom’s favorite stories about me is from when I was probably about 7 or 8.

I was taking swimming lessons in Seattle, in an olympic sized pool.

All the other kids had been swimming in the deep end for some time, and I couldn’t do it. I was paralyzed by fear.

She taught me

“I can do ALL THINGS through CHRIST, who STRENGTHENS ME”

She told me to sing it in my head as I stood on the diving board.

She showed me how to breath it in my breaths as I did the crawl stroke to the wall.

And then I did it.

That is the first significant moment of overcoming in my life.

As I washed dishes this morning, preparing for another day in court for my never-ending divorce, I heard her voice, and I saw her face, telling this story over the years.

I remembered a picture of me from that time, when I got a new bike.

I can and will kick all the ass through Christ who strengthens me.

As I was sitting here writing this, my mom, who was trying to call another place, accidentally called me. I haven’t spoken with her on the phone since the summer, when I was kicked out of the family picture. I told her about this memory, and I felt her love and connection through the pain, fear, and sorrow.

Perfect love casts out fear.

And as I hung up and let the sobs come, my friend walked the door unannounced to give me a hug.

I couldn’t be more loved or seen if I wrote the story of my life myself.

LOVE ALWAYS WINS

August 14, 2017 By HallieZ 1 Comment

The Homeless Man

We don’t see many homeless folk sleeping on the street around here.

I saw one in Beijing once, 2 years into living here. It was the first homeless person I had seen in China.

Don’t get me wrong, I am sure they exist here. I assume they are corralled into very poor areas of the city, and live in abandoned buildings, but they are most certainly not allowed to clutter up the streets with their unlucky selves.

My kids are compassionate creatures. Every single beggar on the street gets money from my kids. Their own money, my money, the would rather skip an ice cream cone than not give money to someone who is poor. I like that about them, and I have encouraged it, as has their Dad. When they are old, they will begin to understand the complexities of the power of cause and effect (not working, not getting to eat) and of governments that make it seemingly impossible for the unloved, the imperfect, and the uneducated to earn a living.

So for now, I am happy that they want to give.

A couple weeks ago, Miss Z found a legit homeless guy.

She is crazy about him.

He does not smell good.

His hair is, well, crazy.

He doesn’t talk. (at least not to me, but that isn’t saying much, because maybe he speaks a local dialect, and thinks I am the crazy one, hollering at him in Mandrin)

He has been wandering around our Walmart since fall, making himself useful by helping the cart-gatherers, and cleaning up trash with the trash ladies. He is resourceful, gathering recycling and trading it in for cash to buy some smokes. I have NO idea why the guards and police let him stay there, but there he is, every day.

Miss Z followed him to his “home” the other day, before I had the chance to let her know that is considered in poor taste for homeless folk. He lives under some stairs, in a weird corner of the basement stores under Walmart.

He has a toothbrush.

And a piece of carpet.

And a very old blanket.

Miss Z find this all at once romantic, and tragic.

She thinks about him every day, and plans how to serve him.

She gets angry at me when I tell her we don’t have time today to go seek him out, and take him a snack.

She thinks it is ridiculous when I suggest that he might prefer a bowl of noodles (the local dietary staple) to a hamburger from McDonalds.

Miss Z remembers that, when we are in America, Mommy and Daddy carry around $1 gift certificates to McDonalds to give homeless people. So to her, McDonalds seem like the obvious cure for the hunger of the poor.

So she takes money from her own savings. (she is saving for jewels, or maybe a horse)

And she buys him hamburgers. She drags her sister along with her. (“I want to teach her to show love” she says)

He stares at her with frantic eyes, snatches his hamburger, and darts off.

She yells “yesu ai ni” and tears well up in her eyes.

My mama heart tugs, and I love her so dearly.

Mangy hair.

Mismatched socks.

Nails bitten to the quick.

Strange looking coat. (but it’s her favorite, and I’m the one that bought it for her at the thrift store)

This is 6.

And this is my Father’s heart.

originally posted 1-31-13

August 14, 2017 By HallieZ Leave a Comment

Filling Out “medical checklist” for adoption

Originally published 3-18-2013

We signed on with a new adoption agency today. With that transition came a “medical check list”. This is the list where we mark what special needs we would be able to consider accepting, which ones are maybes, and which needs are, well, just a flat out no.

Agony.

The conditions are listed:

Cleft lip AND palate (May be unilateral or bilateral, first to third degree) Facial malformation (Including hemifacial microsomia) Uh… yeah, I think that’s something we could deal with here in China…

Thalassemia? What the HECK is that? WebMD search… Uh, requires blood transfusions? Um, that is a BIG OL no for where we live…

Ok, lets keep going, Matt and Hallie…

Missing/malformed fingers/toes…. Albinism AND low vision… Yes, that’s ok…

And on, and on, and on. A whole page of conditions. A whole bunch of googling to figure out what these conditions even ARE.

And more agony.

I mean, if this child were just born to us, we would take whatever, right? Our hearts might shudder, and fear might fill us. We might think we were going to break, but we wouldn’t. No, we’d deal with it, and life would be ok.

So we check the box that says a missing limb is ok. And we check, and we uncheck other boxes.

How are we supposed to decide these things, but on our knees?

Later, I am scooting home from Zumba, and I see a man with white, white skin.

Could that be my son? If he didn’t make it into my arms, I mean.

And this afternoon, there is a guy sweeping the streets, and he is hobbling along on a club foot. And uses a cane.

Could he be my son?

Suddenly, I see my JZ in all the people around me with a visible “problems”. With a missing this, or that.

I want to cry all the time.

I read blogs, of other people who are adopting from China.

How can I not become bitter, unless I stay on my knees?

Humility before my Creator, and total dependence.

I live every day in the reality of a society that just doesn’t have a lot of option for people with needs that are different from the average Joe.

And I hate what I see.

I hate it.

So Matt and I fill out the form, and we send it in. Somewhere out there, our son (sons) are waiting for us to bring them home. We’ll rise to the challenges as they come. We’ll probably cry some more. We’ll probably feel helpless sometimes. Certainly, there will be questions to answer, and people to educate, especially living where we do.

This is just one of the first steps of many…

August 7, 2017 By HallieZ Leave a Comment

Love Always Everywhere

The library and I have a complicated relationship. As much as I love it… there is a LOT of pressure there, you know, to get the books back?

I feel like my life already has SO much pressure in it, I avoid voluntarily to ADDING pressure to my life!

I finaly started taking my kids to the library a few months ago. So far, I have a few fines, but with the help of Auntie H, I am learning a few tips and tricks that lower the pressure levels for me.

So, last week, I told the 2 littles to each pick two books. Of course they came back with 5, and I picked the 2 that looked the least annoying to bring home.

The transition into my parenting time is often a bit rough, last night, there were multiple layers of grief that needed to be sorted through.

One child in particular was experiencing a loss and grief that I felt terrible about. I wanted so much to be able to comfort her, and was really struggling with the scope of her grief.

A great strength my parents had in parenting me, was the ability to look for a the larger picture, to look toward a principle, and parent toward that principle.

That’s something I really try to carry into my own parenting… and last night, I felt lost, and frustrated as I cried out my favorite prayer, “HELP!!!!”

As I held the affected children, it came to me.

“LOVE, I said, comes in lots of different colors. What are some ways we show love?”

sob. Hick up. I don’t know

“well, think about it, what I am I doing right now?”

you’re cuddling us

“ok, there’s one. What else?”

we hug. We play games.

“yes, good. What else?”

Cook food. Wash laundry. Play on the swing. Read a book. Laugh. Tell a joke. Fight. Make up. Listen. Talk…

We added and added to the list.

“what if someone couldn’t use their legs, so they couldn’t play on the swing with you? And they couldn’t speak, so they couldn’t talk with you?”

well, they could still do lots of other things that would show love!

“exactly”

(freaking BRILLIANT KIDS. I pat myself on the back. They should be giving TED talks)

At this point, I went off to do some other tidying up, thinking lights were out and everyone was falling asleep.

When I went back to check in, I found the two of them, lights on, giggling and laughing over some library books I had left in there from reading to the littles before bed.

“LIGHTS OUT!”

“lay DOWN!”

“I TOLD you, you couldn’t sleep in my bed if you were going to be all cray!”

10 minutes later, all the secondary issues have been settled and we are cuddling AGAIN, and I’m thinking, “they are TOO old for this nonsense” and one of them gets all soft, and warm, and gooey, and says,

love is just like that book

“what?”

you know, that library book!

“I don’t think I read that one yet”

she bring it back to bed

(I had just picked this book for the illustrations)

love one

love two

love quiet

love loud

love shy

love proud

love lose

love miss

love smile

love kiss

love tickle

love snug

love care

love share

love always, everywhere

They are GETTING IT.

Like I said, freaking brilliant kids.

(disclaimer, remember, this was ONE layer of the many layers we were dealing with last night, and will continue to unravel as the days come. This was ONE win in a sea of losses as a parent, and I share it with you to give you HOPE. Parenting is like that, huh? So many things at once?)

Love Always Everywhere by Sarah Massini

July 28, 2017 By HallieZ 1 Comment

GRIEVING ALONE/NOT ALONE

I can feel the pain surging through my body.

Sometimes it feels like a caving in, an emptying.

Sometimes if feels like my brain has been put on ice.

Tonight, it feels like a restless tension.

It compels me to check Facebook again. Watch another 5 minutes of a Netflix show I can’t even remember when I hit pause.

It feels like, if I imagine what they are feeling tonight, I will be ripped apart forever, and so, I can’t imagine. I can’t feel.

But my heart screams at me, you must feel.

I got news of a tragedy in my family of origin this morning. I want to run to the pain, I want to run to the hurt and the arms of family. But I know I would only bring more pain, only bring more sorrow. I am not wanted. I know that. I don’t know what to do. It is one of my worst fears come true, since the shunning began. Every day, I fight off the fear that someone will die, someone will get a diagnosis, and I won’t be told. I won’t be there.

I won’t get to comfort and grieve with the ones I have loved for my entire existence.

My own pain is brought into sharp focus by the pain I know my loved ones are experiencing today.

“this is a living hell”, I texted to a friend this morning. As I hit send, I heard the voice of David…

“If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!” *

I watched the Osprey fly over my head, carrying a snake back to her young, her wings a silhouette against the early morning sun.

Again, I heard David

“If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea” *

Later in the afternoon, I answer the half-panicked shouts of my oldest child. I run outside to see that my preschooler has solo-scaled a tree in our back yard. I bid my heart stop racing, and calmly ask “can you get down by yourself?”

With utter confidence, she cheerfully declared

“YES!!! And if I get STUCK, YOU can come up here!!!”

That’s it, isn’t it?

Love beckons and reaches.

Love moves in and says I AM HERE.

Love shows up in the grit and the grime of the bloody trenches of life.

It stretches out its arms, and says

“lo, I am with you always, even to the ends of the earth”.

One lesson of MASSIVE importance for this year is that I will survive the feelings. I used to be afraid that if I felt it, if I let it come into my body, I would die.

I used to think that grief would fling my body into outer space and I would never be able to come back to earth.

Tonight, I power off the devices.

I lay still and close my eyes.

I let it wash over me. I surrender.

I tell myself, “YOU ARE ALLOWED TO BE SAD”.

I let the sadness move through me, and the tears seep through my eyelids.

My phone rings, and it is a person I had despaired of hearing from. Her voice calls out the deeper grief, and I sob into her ear, and she doesn’t seem to mind. Her call is so much more than a call. It is an invitation and a movement of healing. It is the image of the Divine, one we only see clearly in sorrow.

I remember this video, illustrating some research on empathy, and the impact this concept had on me.

This afternoon, I was almost yelling at my kids, in the car. They looked at my like I’m deranged.

“in our family we ALWAYS LOVE FIRST. That’s one of our core values. We LOVE, and we show up, and we don’t mess with each other and we don’t let other people mess with our family. We always, ALWAYS show up for each other, even if we don’t agree or understand”.

Miss Smarty pants comes back at me with “how many family values do we have, you’ve been talking about this a lot” but she has a bit of a glint in her eye, because her heart is hearing what my heart is saying to her. She’s hearing it loud and clear.

“I am your mom and I will TAKE DOWN ANYONE who messes with you and you are NEVER put out of my presence.”

That is who MY GOD IS, my God is the one who calls forth love. My God is the one who comes into the pain, into the darkness. I AM IN THE PRESENCE OF THIS LOVE to the highs and the lows and the in-betweens. The darkest depths of the earth, the highest arch of the skies.

No where will I be separated from this LOVE.

*PS 139:8 & 9

What I’m Writing