From the monthly archives:
Uncle Taylor just sent this video from a couple years ago in honor of Quincy’s birthday.
I love it. Love it.
We always quote one of his doctors. We asked at some point, “What will his limitations be?” And the doctor responded with, “He can do anything he wants. Well…he might not play football. But he can do whatever he wants.”
Quincy’s little tiny ears must of heard him and took it on as some sort of challenge.
Not play football?
Whatever.
We prayed like so many others, “God, we don’t care about anything else, we just want a healthy baby.” We anticipated with joy the arrival of our 4th child, assuming it would be much like the others. We had no idea how different it would be. Seven years ago today, we welcomed Quincy Jay into our family. And we got a taste of what it is it like when God seems to answer the “healthy baby” prayer with a resounding “NO.”
I only got a glimpse of this in comparison to so many others, but I believe it is among the most intense heartache one can experience in this life–to sit helplessly while your child suffers. I remember sitting next to Quincy’s bed having to deny all of me–everything that is natural to a mother. I could not hold him. I could not comfort him. I could not protect him. Torture.
Perhaps God’s “No” is actually a “Yes.” Yes to a love so intense and simply unexplainable. Yes to the experience of God’s faithfulness even in the midst of deep pain. Yes to unimaginable joy. Yes to fertile soil for developing Christlikeness in Mom, Dad, brothers, and child. Yes to a journey that although we didn’t ask for we would gladly travel again. Yes to blessings– not a “healthy” baby blessing, but blessings of another kind. One I did not know to pray for. But how grateful I am to receive. And Yes to heartache. Yes to tears. Yes to glimpses of the redemption of depravity. Yes to a new perspective and a new longing for our eternal home.
I went back and looked at some things I’ve said about Gabe over the years on his birthday.
Amazing how they are all still so true of him.
But let’s get this on the table first: He’s adorable. Cute baby. Cute toddler. Cute boy.
“Sometimes I feel like our house is a bit like a hurricane. Winds of activity and noise swirl rapidly around us. Debris is left in every corner of our home. But occasionally, we feel a moment of calm. A gentle breeze blows slowly. A small space is left perfectly organized. And we call him Gabe. Gabe is our eye. The eye of our hurricane.”
—–
I understand Gabe.
I understand how he can wait and wait and then explode.
I understand how he loves to write letters and express love.
I understand his desire to save everything.
I understand the desire and his need to come back and give hugs or come back and say ‘sorry.’.
I understand how he can cry when someone raises their voice at him.
I understand how his spirit sinks when someone shows disapproval or shame.
I understand his need for organization.
I understand how he sometimes just wants to be alone.
I understand how the right outfit can be very important.
I understand how one GOOD friend is better than a house full.
I understand how he really doesn’t want to do something unless he knows he is going to be good at it.
And I understand the need for constant affirmation that he is in fact doing a ‘good job.’
I understand the thrill of an unexpected ‘present’ or ‘treat.’
I understand the need to have my ‘special things’ left ALONE.
—
“Tender heart, quiet strength, and the most intense adoration of his dad.
He sometimes needs his space. Most often is flexible and agreeable. But will occasionally snap.
Loves bananas and peanut butter and baseball and soccer and guitars.
A fierce and loyal dedication to all things St. Louis Cardinals.”
—-
And today he’s eleven.
11 years ago today I had 3 hours of easy, peasy labor and he was here.
God knew this mama would need a Gabe.
He was and is an amazing blessing of a son.
Happy Birthday, buddy.
It’s Birthday season. 4 birthdays in 10 days.
During birthday season, my “list” gets a little longer. A little crazy.
Mostly I’m excited to celebrate them. They’re amazing kids. All four of them.
—
I had a small breakdown this morning and called a cleaning service asking for an estimate on weekly services.
I quickly came back to reality and cancelled the quote.
What planet was I momentarily living on?
—
Good. Crazy. Stuff going on.
I shall fill you all in soon…
The most common question Becky and I get when we are together is “how?” How in world did you two end up teaming up together? It’s a fun story to tell how a single girl from NYC found herself in the back of a jeep in Liberia with a Mom of 6 from the midwest.
Such different paths brought us there.
Talking with Andy’s parents this morning, we had some of those same moments as we reflected on the current settledness of life.
“How? How did we get here?”
All those times I threw up my hands to God saying, “Really!? Really?” Why are you messing with my plans? Why are you messing with my life?”
It’s a pretty amazing miracle that I can even see a glimpse of it now. It was all goodness.
His goodness and faithfulness diving into our messes. Diving into my “plans.” And saying, “Nope. I’ve got something better. Just hold on.”
There is no way I could of written this story.
No way.
And today I’m just really thankful.
Blown away by how much I don’t know.
Profoundly grateful that He told me “No” so many times.
And I will admit that for many of my fellow sojourners those moments where we see “goodness” never come in this life.
I get that.
And I long still at times with you for the day when the curtains are pulled back and all we can see is His goodness.
Until then, may we bend to carry stretchers. Stoop to bind wounds. Rejoice in victories. Embrace brokenness. And wait together in hopeful and aggressive anticipation of what it to come….
Back into the swing of things here.
Yesterday there was one baseball game, one soccer game, and the arrival of a house full of guests.
Andy’s parents just arrived yesterday and we are thrilled to have them here for a little while.
—-
Fun story:
I got a great email the other day.
It was from Jody Landers.
He said he found me through a random blog search of his name as he was wrapping up his campaign for Mayor of Baltimore.
Um.
Awesome.
(In fact, I had heard of him when a Facebook friend sent me a picture of a billboard with his name and picture saying she thinks about me all the time when she drives around Baltimore. 
)
Jody emailed and said, “I’m very impressed with the humanitarian work you all are doing. Let me know if I can help?”
Alright, Mr. Jody Landers. Thanks for asking.
We intend to raise $150K in the next 30 days for a revolutionary health program in Uganda. Feel free to join me.
So he did. He made an investment. And is currently emailing his friends and family asking them to join us as well.
Jody Landers unite.
Love it.
—-
Andy sent me the best updates which included emails like this:
General stuff: All school papers signed and returned. The rest filed for your enjoyment.
Dawson: Wrote a paper last night titled “I Enjoy Snake Catching.” Told me he would like to work at a Pawn Shop (glad he’s shooting for the stars).
Gabe: Is pretty nervous and excited to make his debut in the all school chapel tomorrow. He’s going to play electric and mando with me. He has already laid out his clothes for this historical event.
Max: He put on 3 different pairs of skinny jeans this morning. And counters every thought I have.
Quincy: Is going to kill it with his spelling words this week. He was super entertaining for all to see last night at swim lessons.
Zeke: Is eating like a 6’5 logger every morning for breakfast. He only thinks and asks about you all day and all night.
Kora: Loves her new boots and playing with Cindy, “her white girl friend.” (I did not teach her that).
Andy: Tired but thankful. Miss you. Love you. Proud of you. I don’t sleep well without you. And I bought new shoes.
They are the most amazing people ever. I missed them. And bottom line: Andy is a superstar.
—
Some pics of the new music in the house.
And for the grandparents, the video is here from the elementary school chapel with Gabe on the electric/mando and Max on the jambe.
SO… I have a lot to tell you!
It has been a crazy, crazy week.
Good, overwhelming, surreal, exhausting, exciting, challenging, scary, exhausting, exhilarating, painful, exhausting, and encouraging. All those things.
–
I’m on the plane now back to Seattle.
NYC is an awesome place. I love being there for a couple days.
I have band-aids all over my feet which are now happily back in their flip flops.
Have no idea how people walk in those crazy shoes so fast every day.
I wore a dress. Twice. Not a hoodie. Yah, me.
We didn’t stop to take one picture. Not one.
It’s probably better that way.
–
What did we accomplish?
SO much.
What still needs to be done?
SO much.
—–
We had an amazing dinner hosted by Google in their way cool building. (I should of been taking pictures there too.)
We gathered 15 of our heroes, a dream team of sorts.
We were so incredibly honored and privileged that all 15 of our invitees came and gave us their time and spent several intense hours brainstorming with us.
Amazing.
We will do it again.
We are still processing all the incredible information that was being tossed around in that room.
—-
We had our very first NYC event.
Volunteer event planners and Tribe members pulled off an amazing cocktail party.
We got to meet some great people and enjoy a night of conversation.
We did have a surprise phenomenal guest.
Betty, one of the Community Health Promoters in Uganda, was in NYC!! Her first time to ever leave Uganda.
She came to the party and shared her story about the importance of her job. She was fantastic!
Way, way better than Brad Pitt. I promise. Ask anyone who was there.
—-
The rest of the time we were running–pretty literally–running from meeting to meeting.
We collapsed into bed onto the couch each night.
I thought for sure I would sleep on the plane.
Clearly I’m not.
My mind is racing.
We are determined. Reminded by Betty last night that jobs change lives. Jobs save lives. And the pride with which Betty speaks is something we want to see spread across the world as more and more people are empowered to lift their own families out of poverty.
It’s worth every single drop of blood, every gallon of sweat, and every streaming tear.
——
(Next update is what Andy and the kids have been up to.
They decided to be all cute and awesome while I was gone!)
