Okay. So let’s not talk about how frivolous my last post was detailing my internet woes.

Yesterday morning I went over to my sister’s house to spend a few hours with my sweet little nephew while she went to the doctor’s office to get antibiotics for a sinus infection because being the mother of a newborn is very glamorous.

While she was gone, I watched all the news reports coming in from Haiti. The images and reports of devastation just broke my heart. Those of you who’ve been reading the blog over the last year or so may remember that I took a trip to the Dominican Republic with Compassion in November 2008.

During that trip we visited what’s known as a Batey community. These are communities in the Dominican Republic where Haitian refugees live. It’s a community where my Compassion child, Ana Angelica, lives.

And this sweet girl.

And these precious faces.

And I can’t help but think how the faces of the people suffering the after effects of the devastating earthquake in Haiti right now look just like these faces that I fell in love with that day in the Dominican Republic.

There are so many ways we can help right now. You can text “disaster” to 90999 to give $10 to Compassion’s disaster relief program. They will be working directly with the local churches who know where these families live and will provide immediate relief to them. You can also click HERE to donate.

If you’d prefer to give to the Red Cross, you can text “Haiti” to 90999 to donate $10 or go directly to the Red Cross website to make a donation.

Another option is to donate through Samaritan’s Purse.

The needs are so massive right now and every little bit helps.

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” Matthew 25:40

I’ve never been one to make a lot of New Year’s resolutions. Maybe it’s because they are very similar to goals and, honestly, who needs that kind of pressure?

However, if I were the type of person to make resolutions then I’m ahead of the game because I’ve already accomplished something significant and the new year hasn’t even begun.

That’s right. I will ring in 2010 smelling of cucumber and aloe. I felt like I should treat my underarms to the aloe after all they have endured with the Degree Cool Sport for Men for the last month.

It seems that since this is my last post of 2009 that I should write some sort of recap of the year but I don’t really know what to say about 2009. I won’t remember it as a great year and I won’t remember it as a bad year. It’s just been a year. Don’t get me wrong, there have been a lot of fun times and I’ve had more moments than I can recall where I have laughed until I’ve cried. There has been much joy and sweetness.

But in some ways I’ve spent a lot of the past year feeling a little stagnant. I started the year feeling like I kind of knew where life was headed, but then it just seemed to stall out a little. And the truth of it is that I think I’m the one who stalled. I just got tired and lost my way a little bit.

I was reading through Judges the other day (Yes, I’m a little behind in my plan to read the Bible in a year. Don’t judge me. Get it? Don’t judge me? Because I’m in Judges? Just a little nerdy Christian humor.) and came to the story of Gideon in Judges 6. The Israelites have been invaded by the Midianites and they are totally oppressed by them. In the midst of all this, there is a man named Gideon who is threshing wheat in a winepress. Normally, according to the wheat-threshing experts, he’d thresh his wheat out in the open. But he’s afraid of the Midianites and so he is hiding.

And while he is hiding out, an angel appears to him and says “The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.” Oh, how I love an angel who deals in irony. Mighty warrior? Gideon is hiding. He’s threshing his wheat in fear and yet the angel calls him a mighty warrior.

The angel has come to tell him that God is going to use him to deliver the Israelites from Midian. At first, Gideon doesn’t believe it. In fact, he asks God for a sign two different times to make sure he’s heard Him right.

Ultimately he ends up being exactly what the angel called him, a mighty warrior. He defeats the Midianites using only three hundred men. Do you see what God did there? He called what was not as though it were. That’s what God does. In Romans 4:17 it says He is “the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were.”

God sees what we can’t see. He sees something where there is nothing. And, even though I’ve read the story of Gideon and had that revelation before, I read it with fresh eyes the other day. I needed the reminder that God sees something in me that I don’t see in myself. I see all my fears and insecurities and worries and just general yuck, but He looks at me and sees something entirely different. He sees something He can use for His plans and purposes.

Honestly, I don’t really know what that looks like right now. This has been a year of Him changing my heart about some things and keeping my heart hoping for some others. It’s been a year of me wanting to know all the answers, but at the same time realizing that knowing all the answers doesn’t require faith.

All that to say that I want 2010 to be about hearing His voice. Because He sees something where there is nothing and I want to see what He sees.

I wish you all a 2010 full of lots of happy and joy. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it another thousand times, this blog wouldn’t be any fun without every single one of you. Thank you.

For the last several weeks Caroline has walked around the house singing bits and pieces of God Bless the USA by the bearded Lee Greenwood. Then sometime last week I noticed she was humming a few bars of the Air Force theme, Wild Blue Yonder. It all began to make sense when she was sent home with a note explaining that her school was having a special program in honor of Veterans’ Day.

And here I’d thought she was just some kind of musical prodigy with a penchant for patriotic tunes.

So yesterday morning Mimi and Gigi met me at the elementary school. I don’t know what they were expecting, but just seeing that gym full of elementary-aged kids and eager parents elbowing each other out of the way with cameras brought me back to the days of my own star-making role as Narrator #1 in Bammel Elementary’s production of Bambi. Which is to say that my expectations were not very high.

Then the program started and it was the best Veterans’ Day tribute I’ve ever experienced and I say that without a trace of sarcasm and that’s something that rarely happens.

I generally stay away from controversial topics like politics and whether or not I believe the best boots are the ones that zip up the side or pull on, but I don’t think it would take a political science wunderkind (how long have I been waiting to use that word?) to figure out which side of the political spectrum I lean towards. I mean I’m a Texan, my husband owns mass quantities of weaponry, and WE WATCH NASCAR.

As I watched those kids sing their little patriotic hearts out yesterday, I felt a sense of pride and hope for our country that I haven’t felt in a while. I’m not happy about the direction things are going and, honestly, I feel like we’re paying for our apathy.

Later in the day, P called me. He’d just attended a weekly lunchtime Bible study for high school students and was blown away by the guest speaker. It was an 83-year-old woman nicknamed Grandma Hansi. She was orphaned as a child and brainwashed as a Nazi Youth Leader when Hitler’s troops marched in to Czechoslovakia. At the end of the war she found herself in a Communist Labor Camp. The things she suffered are unimaginable to us but the short story is she ultimately became a Christian and came to America in 1955. She talked about the extreme culture shock she felt upon her arrival because she couldn’t even fathom the freedom that Americans take for granted. As she says on her website, “I would rather die than ever be unfree again. I pray that we as the American people will never take freedom for granted or we might lose it. If Freedom is lost, there will be no more refuge left for those who try to find a better way of life as I did when I came to America. The lights will go out around the world when freedom dies!”

I don’t know about you but I don’t want to spend anymore time taking that freedom for granted. Our veterans have fought long and hard for hundreds of years for us to enjoy the liberty we experience as American citizens and I think the best way to repay them is to not let anyone or anything take that away from us.

At the end of Caroline’s school program, two children began to fold up the American flag like they do at military funerals. As they made each fold they told what each fold represented. It was one of the most moving things I’ve ever heard and I’d never heard it before so I thought I’d share it with y’all.

The first fold of our flag is a symbol of life.

When the flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost, reminding us of our national motto, “In God we Trust.”

I realize this is not my usual kind of post and some of you may not agree with me. And that’s alright.

Because it’s still a free country.

Also, please don’t miss Patricia’s video of the El Salvadoran Singing Bunny. It’s gold.

**Edited to add that Caroline attends public school which is what makes it even more amazing.**

So I’ve had this post in my head that I’ve wanted to write for several days but haven’t been able to get it down on paper or the computer keyboard or whatever. It all started over the weekend when I was talking to my friend AJ about being a single girl in your twenties. She recently broke up with a guy who was a really nice guy. The kind of guy that looks great on paper and everything in you tells you that you should really like him, but there’s just something missing. That intangible something that, if it could be named and bottled and sold, would be worth millions.

I was in the midst of dispensing my deep wisdom and insights on being a twenty-something single girl (it took all of five seconds) and AJ said, “You need to write a post about this because a lot (at least five!) single girls read your blog. You can even say I told you to.” And since I’m never one to turn down free blog material, I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

Here’s the thing. I have a deep love in my heart for twenty-something girls. Honestly, I sometimes feel like I relate more to the twenty-somethings than I do to women (girls?) my own age. Maybe that says something about my maturity, but let’s not explore that too deeply. I think part of it is that I didn’t handle my early twenties so well. In fact, I tried my best to make a big hot mess of my life and, but for the grace and mercy of God, would have totally succeeded. I totally appreciate how hard the twenties can be because they involve making a lot of grown-up decisions for the first time in your life.

(The late thirties are a little difficult too which is a whole other post that I’ll write someday after I quit crying about my baby getting older and searching my head for new gray hairs)

During my sophomore year of college I remember sitting next to a girl who eventually became one of my dearest friends and I asked her what she was majoring in. She answered, “Sports Management, but all I really want to do is be a wife and a mother.” I was shocked that she actually said it out loud. It’s one thing to think it, but on the outside we’re supposed to act like we aspire to be important business women who speak Japanese and wear business suits. Or maybe that was just me.

But on the inside, all I really wanted to be was a wife and mother. Which is great. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be an important business woman who wears business suits and speaks Japanese, although you should know that Japanese is an extremely hard language to learn and you might possibly make a D in your second semester.

The problem was that I was looking for a man to complete me. It was all very Jerry Maguire-ish before Jerry Maguire ever came out. I was filled with fear and insecurity about what was waiting for me in the real world and just felt like if I could skip over that whole single career girl thing and get straight to the house and the minivan and the 2.5 kids then life would be a lot better. I would be complete and whole and secure. The problem was that I wasn’t seeking God in any of this which led to a series of heartbreaks, including a messy broken engagement.

Because here’s the thing. I was a big emotional wreck and marriage wasn’t going to change that. Marriage wasn’t going to take away all my fears, insecurities, and worries. And after twelve years of being married, I can safely say that marriage tends to just amplify whatever junk is in your life because you have someone who may or may not point it out to you and call you on it but you have to love them anyway because you’ve pledged to be bound to them until death do you part. Plus, hypothetically speaking, you may have a child who looks just like that person which is God’s way of helping you remember why you fell in love with them in the first place.

At some point I found myself at the bottom of my large pile of issues and began to realize that only God could help me get out of it. So I let Him. It was a gradual process but I just kept letting go and then letting go some more. Ultimately, when God brought P into my life it was just as a good friend. We were best friends for several months before we ever started dating which was exactly what I needed. I wasn’t trying to impress or be something I wasn’t, I was just me. And P loved me for me, not because I tried to transform myself into some version of what I thought he wanted. Which is a good thing because twelve years would be a long time to keep up that kind of charade and might also require me to get up and go hunting at 5:00 a.m. in the freezing cold.

My point is (I took the long way to get here) that if you can’t find contentment and security as a single woman, then you’re not going to find it in marriage. Marriage is great. Marriage is wonderful. Marriage is hard. It takes work and sacrifice and dying to what you want in return for what’s best for both of you.

So the best advice I can offer, based on my love of learning things the hard way and doing things wrong the first several times, is to trust God to show you the person who is right for you. Someone can look great on paper, your friends may love him, he may have the best job, a cool car, and not wear jean shorts, but that doesn’t mean that he’s the one. Basically you need someone who you’d want next to you in battle, who can make you laugh even in the tough times, and will encourage you to be the best that you can be. Apparently, marriage is like being in the Army.

Don’t settle for less than you deserve just because less is right in front of you and the best may still be unseen. I guarantee there are many women in marriages that are so lonely that they long for their single days when at least they had the hope of finding someone who would understand them, love them, and care for them.

Your twenties (or thirties or season of singleness) is the last time in your life when you are free to do whatever it is you want to do without having to answer to anyone else. If I could change anything, I wish I would have embraced it more instead of wishing it away. When it’s all said and done it seems like a mere blip on the radar of life and it’s hard to imagine a time when the most romantic thing in your day didn’t involve someone telling you they don’t mind eating leftover chili for the second night in a row. I’m not kidding. I adore a man that’s willing to eat leftovers two nights in a row.

And, ultimately, keep in mind that we’re all waiting on something no matter where we are in life. Being married and having kids is wonderful, but I guarantee that every person who is reading this has some secret desire in their heart that they would like to see fulfilled. I have so many things in my life to be thankful for, but there are other things that I dream about and hope for and, honestly, I don’t know if those things will ever come to pass or not.

All I can do is keep my eyes on the One who knows everything in my heart and trust that he knows what’s ultimately the best for me.

He hasn’t let me down yet.

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” I Corinthians 2:9

A couple of weeks ago, I watched Steven Curtis Chapman and his family being interviewed on “Good Morning America” and “Larry King Live”.

Honestly, part of me didn’t want to watch because the whole story has just broken my heart. The tragic death of a five-year-old girl hits really close to home when you’re the mother of a five-year-old girl.

But I watched anyway.

One thing that came up in both interviews that brought tears to my eyes each time I heard it was when Steven Curtis Chapman said someone later told him that as he was being driven away in the car to get to the hospital where his daughter had just been Life-flighted he rolled down the window and yelled to his devastated son, “Will Franklin! Your father loves you!”

I cried because it is such an incredible picture of how much a parent loves a child. That even in the midst of all that tragedy, he made sure his son knew that he was loved.

But even more than that, I cried because, for the first time, I realized that is how God loves me. How many times have I been crushed by my fears, my failures, my disappointments? How many times have I doubted, questioned, and wondered why things aren’t working out the way I want them to?

He whispered to my heart and let me know that in all those times, when I have been at my lowest points and at my highest points, He has looked at me and said, “Melanie! Your father loves you!”

This shouldn’t be a new revelation to me. But it was.

When I think back to my childhood, I don’t remember hearing much about God’s grace. I’m not saying it wasn’t being taught, it just never really sunk in. Maybe I heard one too many flannel-board Sunday school stories about Sodom and Gomorrah.

Whatever the case, I have struggled with grasping God’s mercy and grace. I struggle with how He can love me so much when I so often feel like I’ve failed. And at the heart of that is a trust issue. Do I trust that His love is stronger than my failures? Can His grace cover my flaws? Do I trust that He wants to pour out blessings on me that I don’t deserve, but He gives them anyway because that’s how much He loves me?

Two days after I watched the Chapman interview, I went in Borders to buy a new book for our beach trip. I looked around and had a couple of different choices in my hand, but then I saw “The Shack” on a display shelf. I knew it was the book I was supposed to buy.

I’d heard great things about it, but had purposely not read it because I knew the story begins with a tragedy involving a young girl. I just didn’t know if I could stand to read it.

I mean, I am the same person who spent the first six months of her daughter’s life watching only two things, “I Love the 70′s” on Vh-1 and “Little Women”. It was all my raw heart could bear.

So I put down my copy of “Such a Pretty Fat” by Jen Lancaster (which I still really want to read by the way) and bought “The Shack”.

It was the right choice. I couldn’t put it down.

At one point early on in the book, the main character experiences his first real encounter with God. And at that moment God picks him up, spins him around like a little child while shouting his name “Mackenzie Allen Phillips!”.

Tears.

After I read it I couldn’t get the image out of my head that God sees me that way, that He feels that way about me. That I am His child and He longs to hold me close the same way I long to hold Caroline close and cherish every single ounce of her, but even more so.

I’ve read Psalm 139 countless times. I know He knows my thoughts, I know He knows my words before they are on my tongue, I know He knows the numbers of hairs on my head (not as high a number as it used to be), and I know His thoughts of me outnumber the grains of sand.

I know it because I’ve heard it all my life. But I felt like in the days following the Chapman interview and reading “The Shack”, He began to really reveal to me the depths of His love for me. Not for all mankind, not for every creation, but, specifically, for me.

At church the following Sunday, I was standing during praise and worship and I felt God say to me, “I know your name. I know everything about you and I adore you. No matter what.” It’s like I could hear Him saying my name. My full name, over and over again.

Just as I was feeling that in my heart, our pastor began to speak. Guess what he said? “God knows your name. He knows everything about you.” And as he spoke those words, the worship team began to lead us in a song I’d never heard before

He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
And hears me when I call

Is it just me or do you think God is trying to tell me something? His love for the world isn’t general. It’s not an all-encompassing “I love my creation” thing. It’s specific.

Specifically for me. Specifically for you.

In spite of who we are, in spite of how we fail, in spite of all our weaknesses.

Because, here’s the thing. He made us. He knows us. None of our shortcomings and moral failures surprise Him. God doesn’t sit in heaven saying, “Wow. I did not see that coming.”

He sits in heaven, with a deep longing to take us in His arms, spin us around and say “Melanie! Your Father loves you!”

Except He would call you by your name, not mine. Because He’s God.

And He knows your name.

“See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.” Isaiah 49:16

This post was originally published in August of 2008.