Worship Lady

This past Sunday I had a cute and inspiring experience with a child at our church. I serve as the worship pastor and after the service had ended a young boy approached me at the front of the auditorium. He couldn't have been more than about 7 years old. He looked very serious and approached me asking, "Excuse me, but are you the worship lady?"

You need to first understand that I have been dubbed many varied titles since taking this role. I've been called worship pastor, worship leader, music director, song leader, and the list goes on. Worship lady was a new one, and I kind of like it.

I assured him that yes, I am indeed the "worship lady." He handed me a single $1 bill and, looking very concerned, asked me if I could please put it with the offering. You see, he had gone to the restroom and missed the passing of the offering bags and was distraught that his dollar bill might not make it into this week's offering. His mother told him to find the worship lady and give it to her. I assured him that I would turn it in with this week's offering and he thanked me and left.

I stood there somewhat struck by what had just happened. On the surface it is cute and makes you smile. But, looking a little deeper, I felt the weight of it. This child had just trusted me with his offering- his sacrifice. That's a pretty serious and weighty thing when you think about it.

I think that sometimes when you're in leadership you settle into your role and, after a while, you get a little lazy. You perhaps get too comfortable in it and forget how serious it is. People are watching. People trust you. People call you the "worship lady." :)

Staying In Tune

Today is a great day. Why? Because the piano tuner is at my house. I have a beautiful Baldwin grand piano that proudly sits in my living room. It's arguably my most valuable earthly possession. Although I guess it's nice to look at, it's pretty worthless if I can't play it, interact with it. Over time my Baldwin goes a little flat or a little sharp, and eventually I lose interest in playing it because what was once beautiful music is now just noise. This is why I clap and jump for joy when I see the piano tuner approaching my front door.

I think my attitude is often like my Baldwin piano. Over time I can get a little flat, or a little sharp, and eventually the previously pleasant sounds flowing out of me are now just annoying noise. Noise to God. Noise to others. I need to be tuned.

When the piano tuner tunes my piano, he never tunes it to itself. Instead, he strikes a tuning fork and tunes my piano to the tuning fork. After all, just because my piano is in tune with itself, that doesn't mean that it's actually "in tune." He tunes to the tuning fork because the tuning fork is constant. Unlike my Baldwin, the tuning fork never goes out of tune. It resonates a pure A always and forever.

Just like my piano, I cannot tune my attitude to myself, or to anyone else for that matter. If I do, I'm pretty sure I'll be the only person who thinks I'm "in tune." I need a tuning fork. I need the Holy Spirit filling me up and resonating a pure and constant A. I need this not only for my sake, but for the sake of others, particularly my children. I've been a mom for a long time and if there's one thing I've noticed it's that as goes my attitude, goes the attitude of my kids. Until my kids have completely learned to tune themselves to God, they tune themselves to me. I'm their tuning fork until they learn to make God their tuning fork. Whoever or whatever I tune myself to will be what they tune themselves to.

Well, the piano tuner just finished. I once again have beautiful music resonating from my piano instead of noise. I think I'll go spend some time with God and make sure I'm in tune also.

Love is...choosing to love her Russian mom

What do I do with the reality that Sasha has a Russian mom? I've been internally processing this for a couple of months now. Do I ignore her? Just smile and agree when Sasha talks about her? Blame her for all of Sasha's pain? Create a fairy tale version of her? I've come to the conclusion that I should just love her. I don't have to like the choices she made but I definitely have to love her. After all, if it were not for her I would not have Sasha in my life, regardless of the circumstances that brought her to me. It is classic Romans 8:28-30. God chose Sasha in advance to be his own and so he is taking everything that has happened in her life and is working it together for good. Everything.

I never wanted to be one of those Western Christians full of pride and arrogance, swooping in to save the orphan child. Someone else and their culture can't get it right so I have to march over there and fix it, all in the name of Jesus. I hate that kind of thinking. It stinks. I don't have a Masters in Theology, but I'm pretty sure God hates it too. All that being said, there is a fine line between defending the interests of your adopted child and taking up an offense for her that allows this kind of thinking to creep in.

And so I found myself sitting in a Russian courtroom when suddenly someone announces that her mother has passed away. I suddenly felt my heart break for Sasha and for her mother. For months I have gone back and forth between anger and frustration at Sasha's past circumstances and a broken heart for this woman who is missing out on seeing who Sasha is growing up to be. And then a couple of months ago a real game-changer happened.

Sasha and I were driving along in the car one day when suddenly, out of the blue, she says, "You know, you look just like my Russian mom." Woe. Talk about being caught off guard. Apparently I look so much like her Russian mom that Sasha says when she first saw me it literally took her breath away. I suddenly realized just how carefully God had orchestrated this entire process. Sasha has no pictures of her mother but God loves her so much that she can simply look at me and remember. Are there positives and negatives to this? Most certainly, but whether positive or negative, I have the opportunity to love this woman. I now not only just listen when Sasha wants to talk about her Russian mom, I initiate my own conversations about her. I've learned to cook a few things the way her Russian mom cooked them. I take in all the memories that Sasha shares and save them in an effort to help Sasha remember. Some memories are happy, some are not so happy, but it is obvious that God wants to use them all for good.

I choose to honor her memory. I choose to forgive her when I need to. I choose to love her.

Control Freak

Yes, I admit it. I'm a control freak. It came as quite a shock to hear God (and my dear husband) tell me that I'm a control freak. It's funny how you view yourself versus how others view you. I thought that I was good at delegating and prided myself that I hold things with "open hands." Pride. It will get you every time. No one else could possibly do it as well as me so I just need to do it myself. Is that what I really think? Ouch. It hurts when you get slapped in the face with the reality of your pride issues.

It all came about as Dan and I were planning what to do with Sasha this spring. We are currently home schooling her. We made it through the fall, but the weight of trying to home school and work as a worship pastor at our church was beginning to crush me. What was my solution? Obviously Sasha has to come first, and so obviously I have to quit my job. Enter stage right Dan Jensen, man full of wisdom and grace, and master at stirring the pot. I hate it when he does that. I love it when he does that. Is quitting my job really putting Sasha first? Does home schooling really mean I have to teach her myself? Am I even the best person to teach Sasha?  How dare he ask me such genius questions and reveal my control freak issues!

And there it was staring me in the face.  I didn't want to let anyone help me because I literally felt guilty about wanting to work. I should want to be with Sasha all the time- right? The guilt was robbing me of the joy in finding my purpose and God's call on my life to be a worship pastor. I had to admit I was trying to control everything and ask for help. I also had to accept God's call on my life and decide that I was all in.

Sasha now spends Monday's with me. We work on spiritual development, reading, and life skills. She spends Tuesdays and Thursdays with her grandparents who teach her math, and she spends Wednesdays and Fridays with Miss Heather who teaches her English and reading. Interesting to note that Sasha's grandfather is a retired math teacher and Miss Heather has home-schooled countless kids for countless families over the years. Do you think they probably know more than me? Probably.

It's amazing how calm I feel now that I've let go of what God asked me to let go of. It's also amazing how well things are going in the worship ministry I lead now that I've committed to being all in. And the best part of all is that every afternoon when I pick Sasha up she is genuinely happy to see me. Life is good when you learn to let go.

Sugar Plum Fairies

Last night we enjoyed a performance of the Nutcracker at the Winspear Opera House in Dallas. The Dallas Arts District was filled with holiday lights, horse drawn carriages, performers, and people. The sights and sounds were beautiful. Our family has always enjoyed the arts- symphony, art museums, musical theater, and concerts featuring just about any genre of music. The ballet has never really been a part of our lives. Then Sasha came along.

Dan and I enjoyed our first ballet performance in St. Petersburg, Russia with Sasha. We took her to the Mariinsky (Kirov) theater. A little Ballet 101, to go to the Mariinsky Theater for a ballet is like seeing a theater production on Broadway in New York. Winspear isn't the Mariinsky, but it was certainly beautiful and this time we were able to take Beth for her first ballet experience.

While I don't see us going to The Nutcracker every single year, I am sure we will definitely see it again and again in the future. Honestly, Sasha's favorite part of the night was just going out. She and Beth are exactly alike in this way. They love to dress up and go out like this. Both girls were sporting new holiday dresses and high heels that they had purchased just for the occasion. They were beautiful last night- two Sugar Plum Fairies.

We've had several conversations lately with Sasha about how she misses Russia. Attending events like this I believe will really help. Russia, particularly St. Petersburg, loves art, culture, and architecture. Sasha commented last night about the Dallas skyline and lights. Her comment? "You have some pretty buildings here. Is not Russia. Is not old, but is pretty too. It's okay. I like."

Well okay, I'll take that. :)

Pixie Dust

We took Sasha to Disney World end of October. We are a Disney family and it was great to share it with Sasha. Dan and I have so many great memories of Disney vacations with the kids and now we have those same memories with Sasha.

 As you can see, we were there over Halloween. Mickey's Not So Scary Trick Or Treat is certainly the biggest Halloween party I've ever been to. I guess you could call us the Empire Family. Dan was Caesar, I was a Greek Goddess, and Sasha was Cleopatra.

 They don't celebrate Halloween in Russia but Sasha had heard of it. She was totally excited and thought Trick or Treating was the greatest thing ever.

For those of you who know Dan personally, you are in total shock that he dressed up. We've been married 23 years and started dating when we were 17 and 18 years old and I have NEVER known him to dress up. Sasha looked so disappointed when he told her he doesn't dress up that he couldn't stand it and totally caved.

I've always known that Disney was a magical place, but for us this was a beyond magical trip in many ways. Was it because we were away from our normal surroundings? Was it because we were able to let go of the stress of every day normal life? Was it Pixie dust? Whatever it was, Sasha relaxed in a way we have not seen before. She really let her guard and defenses down and let us in like never before.

There was one day that we had quite a blow up with Sasha. This is pretty normal. We have at least one major blow up a week. Hey, you don't adopt a 13 year old international child and not have at least a weekly blow up. But this time was really different. We sat her down and she really listened to us in a way she had never listened before. The next day we were walking out to catch a bus and out of the blue Sasha said to me, "Mom, I think that 5-6 years in the orphanage were not good for me." She then explained that she believes she learned survival techniques and behaviors and reactions that might have seemed to help her survive in the orphanage, but they just don't seem to work in a family. Uh...okay...WOW!! I nearly passed out on the pavement. She gets it. In fact, she doesn't just get it, she really gets it. She is processing some things on a really deep level.

So now that we're home from vacation, the past two weeks have been absolutely perfect, yes? Umm no. We've had more blow ups, one was the worst yet, but I can point back to that moment in Disney and rest at least a little knowing that she is truly processing her new life and new family.

Pixie dust? I don't think so. No, I'm pretty sure that only the Holy Spirit is capable of that kind of magic. :)

Privacy Please

It was five months ago today that we took custody of Sasha in St. Petersburg, Russia. Hard to believe. Things are going pretty well and we're making a lot of great memories.

Fireworks on the Fouth of July

Ready for a friend's 70s party. I had to explain what a hippie was.

So far I only have one major complaint and it not about Sasha. It's about other people, mostly strangers and acquaintances. Let me try to explain.

I have never had anyone who I have just met or am only acquainted with ask me personal, probing questions about my biological children. No one who just met Beth and I or who are only acquainted with us would ever ask me if Beth was ever abused. Was I ever an alcoholic, drug addict, prostitute? You don't just meet someone and start questioning them about their personal history. Good grief. Yet this is what I constantly encounter. People who I am only mildly acquainted with have a nasty habit of point blank asking me what happened to Sasha's Russian parents. Did they die? Why was she in the orphanage? Was she abused? Were her parents alcoholics, drug addicts? Was her mother a prostitute? Dan and I were warned in our adoption training that this would happen. We carefully rehearsed what we would say in these scenarios and yet, I find myself dumbfounded every time it happens. I guess I'm just shocked that anyone would think it appropriate to ask me these questions. What's worse is that more than once people have asked these questions right in front of Sasha. Get real. Grow a brain.

So how do I answer these questions? My tactful response is that we don't discuss Sasha's personal history with anyone outside of our immediate family.  This shuts it down and I quickly change the subject. I dream of some day having the guts to say "nunya- nunya business." Wouldn't that be fun?

So there you have it. My rant for the day.