My four-year-old son, Jude, and two-year-old daughter, Jenesis, were thrilled to wake up on a frosty morning last December to see a beautiful blanket of snow and big, fluffy flakes still falling plentifully from the sky. They decided breakfast was less important than beginning their snowy adventures, so they eagerly slipped into their winter gear and ran outside into the yard.
I stepped hesitantly out of the rented van, gazing uncertainly at the unfamiliar surroundings. The sweltering July air was oppressively humid and it was hard to breathe. The run-down New Orleans neighborhood was dismal and poor. Dirty children roamed the street unsupervised, and lo
A Fearful YesI recently had a very busy week full of coffee dates, client meetings, meals with lovely people in our church community, family get-togethers, our Wednesday night Life Group, and what felt like a whole bunch of other appointments and errands.
Out of breath, overwhelmed, in the middle of a big city, I glanced for the hundredth time at the route on my phone. Which bus was I supposed to take? What time does it get here? Am I on the right side of the street? Why in the world did I decide to do this? Last year our family took a trip to San Francisco.
A few months ago a repairman was working on a project at our house while our six children sat eating lunch around the kitchen table. “Oh, do you run a daycare?” he asked as he observed them. Chuckling, I told him that all the kids were ours. He seemed shocked by my words. “Seriously?” I smiled and nodded, telling him that we had adopted four of