Care, Love, and Hope

Christmas started late for us this mornting. And while usually this wouldn't even be a thang given that I don't normally wake up until 10 antyway, I slept like an excited school child last night. 3, 5, 7, 9-- I saw them all on the clock last night because I was that ready for "Santa to come." And, of course, to share the day with my family.

For the first time ever I didn't run straight to the top of the stairs. Matter of a fact, I actually took a quite leisurely bath. And then cuddled with Emily and yelled downstairs to Mom who was tending to our "visitor" and then read out of Luke's pOliceman Bible:

The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death
a light has dawned.

You have enlarged the nation
and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you
as people rejoice at the harvest,
as men rejoice
when dividing the plunder.

For as in the day of Midian's defeat,
you have shattered
the yoke that burdens them,
the bar across their shoulders,
the rod of their oppressor.

Every warrior's boot used in battle
and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning,
will be fuel for the fire.

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the increase of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David's throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.

(Isaiah 9: 2-7)

Emily's response was, "I could see how people were disappointed Jesus was only a baby." Indeed, I see their point.

Still, disappointed, we are not. Missing from the early morning around our house was Dad. Because while I anxiously awaited celebrating Jesus, he was off acting like him. Emily and I both couldn't help but brag on our twitters as we chatted in the darkness of Luke and Steph's room about "our hero."

Dad is an attending, who only has to show up in the morning to "round" on his patients-- the residents give him all of the latest information on a bed patient and he comes up with a treatment plan for the next 24 hours. The other day one of his residents was talking about her Christmas morning plans, saying she would have to wake her little boy up at 5 in the morning to be able to open gifts before she would need to leave to do her obligatory pre-rounds. The residents have to be in earlier than attendings in order to get all of the news from the night crew and prepare their reports for rounds.

He could have said "suck it up." That was him at one point, too. Could have said "I've earned my right to stay home with my family."

Children's Hospital has a motto: "Fear not illness, this place of care, love and hope is for you."

And Dad opted to show care, love, and hope to his resident. Because instead of saying "that's not my job," he gladly offered to come in early and do morning reports for her, so she could do Christmas with her little boy-- not at 5 a.m. And this morning he hurried home as fast as he could so as to not put us out by having to wait on him. As. If. His being at the hospital, making himself a servant, having that for a dad is one of my gifts. It certainly wasn't keeping me from them.

"Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." (Philippians 2: 1-4)

The view from the top didn't stop him from looking out from looking after the interests of one of his own. This Christmas, how glad I am that the same could be said of Jesus.

All is Calm, but Not so Bright

I got home from work to find our neighborhood out of power.

Correction. I found our side of the neighborhood out of power. Let me hear you say "that ain't right." As I am writing on reserve battery and for Evelyn that runs about, um, 3 minutes, I do not know how long we have together on this Christmas Eve.

But this is how I'm going to spend however much time Evelyn has because both parents did not respond positively to my idea to go caroling and they wont let me open any of the gifts under the tree. And the movie theatre shuts down at 7 tonight, ridding us of our usual trusty back up plan for bad weather or really for any time we're looking for something to do.

It's Chrismas Eve!

I already know my favorite gift that I'm giving and the best one I will get, I'm just not at liberty to share yet. But it's very exciting!

Speaking of exciting, tell me this doesn't get you in the Christmas spirit...

It amazes me that Jesus was that at one point, too. A precious baby making somebody's day with a smile. Little did they know. I was listening to Chris Rice's "Welcome to Our World" on the way home from work and these lyrics stuck out to me:

Fragile finger sent to heal us

tender brow prepared for thorn

tiny heart whose blood will save us

unto us is born

So wrap our injured flesh around you

breathe our air and walk our sod

rob our sin and make us holy

perfect son of God

But for that matter, little do I know. The truth is that I can hardly comprehend the big-ness of God, let alone the majesty of his humble birth. Harder still is knowing how to praise God for the simultaneous simplicity and complexity of his love and his grace. Tomorrow marks the day those two things became undeniably real. I want that to make an undeniable change in my life.

Like the difference between a house on this side of the street and a house across the way. Where they can have showers. No, no that's not what I mean. I just want to be lit up. I want to be pumped about God's plan. Because get this:

But when the kindness and the love of God our Savior toward man appeared,

not by works of righteousness which we have done,

but according to His mercy

He saved us,

through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit,

whom He poured out on us abundantly

through Jesus Christ our Savior,

that having been justified by His grace we should become heirs

according to the hope of eternal life.

(Titus 3:4-7)

Kindness and love toward man appeared in the body of a baby wrapped in flawed flesh and an ancient version of a snuggie. This is especially exciting to me because I love a baby. But most exciting is that his birth created a way for me to be an heir in all of this. I don't have the right to say who else gets in on it-- in the end I'm not even the one making my own case. Jesus is.

So Merry Christmas to us. And thank you, Jesus.

(for the record, so I can remember this moment, it is cold enough in this house that mom is actually wearing flannel. okay?!)

We Interrupt Christmas

...for this important wedding marriage.

This is how I would describe the past 48 hours: 90 to nothing.

Matter of a fact the entire week and half of break so far has been this way. Gingerbread house competitions, work Christmas parties, babysitting, sleepovers, Christmas shopping, work, coffee dates, scrapbooking, Dad's birthday, aunt and uncle visiting, more work, movies, games, church and then. A wedding.

For how busy we were, it truly felt like an oasis. A (post)weekend getaway with a lot of old friends. At, I kid you not, Uncle Ricky's Cabin.

Well, that's where we spent the night Sunday night, us bridesmaids. We went to and fro, from the cabin to the church to the hotel, multiple times. Cherished time.

Are we really this old?

To be marrying off friends and meeting up with old ones who have babies and be planning other weddings and be joking around with friends' moms about bra sizes and finding a boy to take home?

Apparently. I'm just not sure when it happened.

When did it happen that my quirky little nothing of a friend (I'm talking about size here)-- who created costume designs and obsessed about the Lord of the Rings, going around speaking elvish and taking offense to people calling Legolas a girl-- became a costume designer and stage extraordinaire with a depth of maturity, a ring, and an impossibly brighter smile?

It's a fun new stage of life, to be sure. Danielle Adkins will take some getting used to, though.

(thats Charles Dickens and Jane Austen topping the grooms cake, just so you know)

Their wedding was a well-timed reminder of what love is supposed to be-- a reflection of Christ's love for the church. And even though they will fail to be that perfectly, God will not fail us. The very best example of that was when he sent Jesus to this world to die on a cross. That kind of love, marriage or no marriage, is a lot to live up to. It takes communion with the God of such love to even begin to know the joy that is Christmas.

And since that is what marriage is about, striving for that communion, I don't guess Christmas was much interrupted this weekend, after all.

Not for Naught

I'm officially unpacked and settled in "my" room-- the one with the treadmill and stationary bike and mini-fridge and Dad's closet.

And a bunk bed.

But, sadly, there will be no Quasi-sibling to bunk with this Christmas (only a real one named Emily once she gets her self done with school!). Yesterday we found out that Mom and Dad's background checks are under a ginormous stack of unfinished paperwork downtown. If these were submitted in August and we still haven't gotten them back, then Luke and Steph's, which were filled out in November will be a while. Obviously, we can't have a little person up in here during that while.

All of this seems crazy since we thought we were on the fast track to foster care. Our super nice social worker Alice was rushing our home study so that we could have a child by Christmas. She wasn't allowed to even start a home study, technically, without the background checks being finished. So when she showed up and starting taking notes on our life and living situation, we just assumed everybody had been cleared. But now the home study is typed up and finished and there is no background clearance. This is frustrating because if there were anything on Mom and Dad's records, it would've affected their license to practice medicine. Luke became a police officer in July, which would not have happened without a thorough background check.

Speaking of Officer C. Luke Smith, he made one of the largest drug busts in Bryant's history Sunday morning. I know, I know, those of you not from around here are thinking that probably doesn't take much in a podunk little Arkansas town. That would have been a correct thought process back in the day when he made the biggest bust in Cammack Village, a city of maybe 4 square miles. But Bryant is a sizable city and sits on I-40-- a thoroughfare for moving drugs from Texas to Missouri. So no, this was not one of like four busts this year. Luke is just a really good cop.

http://www.todaysthv.com/video/default.aspx?bctid=57203500001

The kind who gets to be the worst part of a bad guys day. He confiscated more than 20 pounds of marijuana from this car basically because he has a good read on people (can you tell I'm proud?). According to his Captain, Luke was just "on top of his game." Somebody is seriously pissed that they don't have their estimated 30,000 dollar delivery. But such is life, Mr. Drug Dealer. Such is life.

And life, for us, goes on as normally as it does for the Smiths for now. I can't even say I'm not bummed that I wont get to meet our kid during this extended break when I could get to know said kid. After all, it was going to be my favorite Christmas present. But, as many of my friends reminded me when I sent the news out yesterday, this is all in God's timing. It has been from the beginning. Not just from the beginning of this process, but from the beginning of time itself. I can't compete with that. And I wouldn't want to. Even if it meant I could be making cookies with a 6 year old girl or singing a 6 month old to sleep or playing basketball with a 10 year old boy, I wouldn't really want my timing over God's.

So the hoping and the praying and filing and the interviewing and the shopping and the prepping has not been for naught. All of it is working towards a child getting a safe and loving home at some point. Until then, I continue to pray for whoever is coming our way, for whatever situation is happening now that will be sending him or her our way. That is not really something fun to think about, but it is certainly worth praying over. And, in the meantime, we can take the lock off of the attic door that leads to where I need to put my suitcases up. I am convinced the door is hiding Narnia the way they have upped the security around it. In reality, the lock is another measure that has not been for naught. Even the fire escape plan continues to serve a purpose.

And though I wont be getting what I thought would be my favorite present, the real gift for now is having the family and the means to host a kid in the first place. I'll soak up my time with them while I have this chance. And praise God for his timing.

Insignificant

It's baaaaack.

Our olympic flashback/forward program is making an appearance after two whole months of nothin.

1980 and Savchenko/Szolkowy (Germany)

1984 and Zhang/Zhang (China)

1988 and Dube/Davison (Canada)

This is the long overdue fourth installment, about the easily overlooked 1992 Albertville olympics. Where? Exactly my point. And, France, by the way. That's where.

I can't say for certain what got me thinking about kickin' this back up. I mean, I know, but I just really can't say yet. I did buy a t-shirt with the olympic rings on it a couple of weeks back and it has been a source of inspiration, for sure.

In addition to this, last Saturday during study breaks, I got a few of us watching some pairs skating and attempting to do some moves in our socks on the hardwood floor of the apartment. We were genius.

(the last two are sit spins, by the way)

And then after exams Katie Jones and I were watching Sale and Pelletier (they'll be comin up sometime in the near future) mostly because she busts it on the ice like I would if I were competent in the ways of skating, and got the great idea to mesh it with music from Glee.

(For the record, as I sit here writing this, Dad is busy writing the "Smith Evacuation Plan" for in case of a fire... some formality that needs to happen before we can get Quasi-Smith up in this house. This is ironic to me given that I begged this family to practice a fire drill after the nice fireman at Career Day suggested it in kindergarten. The drill never happened and neither did an escape plan or meeting point.

Then, back when Luke worked at Cammack Village as a police officer and fireman, I missed it when he was the officer on duty and the rest of the family walked into his house to find a fire near the back door. The mental images of him jumping in his police car to drive to the fire station, hoppin in the fire truck and driving a quarter mile back to his house as mom screams "do something" and dad points the garden hose in the general direction of the flames is almost better than actually being there, though, I think. I don't believe in karma, but.... I'm just sayin' maybe if we had conducted a drill they could have been more cohesive. I guess sometimes DHS has to say something before it will get done. So now, 15 years later, we have an evacuation plan and a ladder to put by the window upstairs. Here is the plan (excuse the mirror effect of the mac):

It reads:

"1. Leave the room.

2. Go down the stairs.

3. Get out of the house through the front door."

... I know this plan will change your life. You will not find a clearer plan than that, trust me. No. Don't trust me. Trust the Doctor and the Fireman. We don't keep 'em around here for nothin.)

(This is officially another side note stemming from the one above that I felt deserved a new parenthetical clause given the monstrous nature of the first one. In that last picture I have fake glasses on because I am trying to get used to the look because I tried on Emily's new prescription glasses and stuff actually was much clearer for me, too. So I might be getting glasses. What do you think?

Eh. We'll see. Actually, I'll see. Better, anyway. If I get the glasses. I might wait until it's unbearable. The lesson learned, though, is that sometimes you just assume you have perfect vision until you are proven wrong by a much clearer picture. Do I assume I have things figured out or am I looking for better focus? That is about as deep as I am prepared to go tonight, so for now just ponder with me, aight?!)

Listen, I told you it was easy to be distracted from, the '92 games of Albertville. But it is where Kristi Yamaguchi won her medal, so there's some importance. Thus we continue the age old tale of Russian domination in pairs figure skating. Only not really because this was the USSR. Oh, but not really because that officially ended in 1989. 1992 was still a time of transition for Soviet Russia and its socialist nation-state affiliates so the "russians" competed under the name "the Unified Team" at this olympics. Just to give it that western pro-United States ring to it, it seems. Still, the Unifieds (*cough* soviets *cough* russians) were again prepared to stomp.

Enter Artur Dmitriev and Natalia Mishkutenok. They trained in Leningrad (modern St. Petersburg) with Tamara Moskvina of Valova and Vasiliev (1984 olympic gold medalists) fame. In competition, these two never placed less than 3rd. After this Olympics, they skated the same routine at Worlds and scored an unprecedented four perfect 6.0 marks. For those who ask "how can you do pairs and not be a couple?" I would suggest calling up Artur and Natalia, who split up as a team amicably soon after their silver medal win at the 1994 Olympic games (coming right up!). Artur went on to partner with Oksana Kazakova (not relation to Oksana Baiul), which becomes important, oh, around 1998. Natalia married a hockey player and then divorced him and then married some random guy and now they have a 3 year old daughter. She coaches skating in Texas (random?) now, completely retired from performance. Dmitriev, however, is still kickin' with his second skating partner, though he has been married to a russian gymnast/choreographer since 1992 and they have a son, Artur Jr. I call him Artie because we're tight like that.

Before you watch, I do ask that you respect the purple.

I don't know who the woman commentator is, but I think she may be Dick Button's daughter to whom he bottle fed a little too much haterade. "She did not get those rotations in AT ALL!"

A little piece of trivia for you all, the move where she grabs his calf and he holds one of her legs so that she does the splits while he spins is something they created and it is now named after her, called "Natasha's spin."

So now our amateurs, Keauna McLaughlin and Rockne Brubaker of the US of A.

Represent.

With any luck, they will represent America in Vancouver. They are the current two time US Championship gold medalists (but, uh, placed 11th at 2009 Worlds. If I remember correctly, she had had the flu. Unfortunately, Katie Jones, none of the flaws in this performance involve skate in the face. Shame.) and at 17 and 23, respectively, have a while to go in their careers.

This is them winning the 2009 US Championships: (beware, Emily, you are not going to like her teeth)

And here is their most recent short program, skated at the Russian Cup last month to "Unchained Melody" (may Patrick Swayze rest in peace):

For the record, Keauna is totally wearing Ekaterina Gordeeva's costume from her 2006 performance of All I Want For Christmas is You. I feel like I should include it since it is that time of year...

As to whether or not they are a couple, it's just hard to say. She is a senior in high school in Colorado Springs, while he is at the University of Colorado. I don't know how much say so a six year age difference has on their being together or not, but these pictures seem to indicate that it doesn't have a lot:

(please note that she is completely horizontal!)

Yeah, yeah, I guess they are just doing their job, really (I wish that was my job). Oh well. besides, the real reason I'm posting that many pictures of them is so that it doesn't seem as obsessive when I put so many of Gordeeva and Grinkov when their turn comes up. What I can say for certain, since wikipedia has informed me, is that the name Keauna is Hawaiian for "feminine wind running through the forest." My name feels so insignificant now.

... not to mention my skating skills.

And still seeming insignificant after all of this?

Albertville.

And Dad's escape plan.

The Help

The fact that this time last week I was in a very different living room with a much heavier heart is not lost on me today. I have never been so overwhelmed by the fear of failure.

I mean, I was okay with being the least coordinated kid in the children's choir. Piano recitals? There was never any way around them, so I learned to oblige and make my peace with the nerves. Very rarely have I thought "what if I just don't do this" and felt so overwhelmed to the point of truly believing I couldn't. I don't know what it was about last Monday and that test, but I felt so defeated before any testing had even begun. It was really only a couple of hours of absolute restlessness, but it scared the snot out of me. For good reason, though, I think. Feeling so out of control of my emotions brought me back to how futile emotions actually are. Frustration, exhaustion, sadness, happiness, love when its treated like one. And, ultimately, how out of control I really am.

I knew the test wasn't the end of the world, nor should it have been the entirety of my world. But that helpless feeling is frightening. Running to the help does mean the world. Was it stupid to freak about about some test? I think so. But it got my attention. Just in time for vacation, when the temptation is to sit back and mindlessly relax, God reminded me, "Sadie you need my help."

I am not in any less need of it today as I was one week ago. And God is not any less able to offer it, either. In a world of changing emotions, that steadiness is striking to me.

Our pastor yesterday said something along the lines of how it's not God's height that makes the difference, but how far He is willing to bend down.

The nativity seems so ordinary to me. Common and overlooked.

Jesus was born common and overlooked. But He was striking.

I'll Be Home For Christmas

More like I'll be boarding in a few minutes, really.

But I felt like if BWI was going to be so kind as to offer free wi-fi over the holidays, I should at least put it to some kind of good use. (Does this even count as "good use?") I was reading over my Airport letter and cannot believe that was only thirteen days ago. I used to read about the Cuban missile crisis and think "it was just several days." I would now believe John Kennedy if he told me those were the longest days of his life. Actually I wouldn't because I feel like November 22 would take the cake. Technically though, it was a pretty short day for him.

For the record, I do not recommend stream of consciousness writing within the first 48 hours coming out of exam week.

I must say, though, Katie Jones wrote a fabulous stream of consciousness essay on going green and sea otters (or should I say "hotters") in the hours after her last test. It involved an otter saying "peace be with you" and her responding "what are you, Jesus?" Then he chased her and said "live long and prosper" to which she responded "what are you, Spock now?" And something about how now she loves to recycle whereas she used to choke the hotters with plastic 6 pack things. Her dramatic, if abrupt, ending was "You're welcome. K, Bye."

Sadly I cannot share this essay with you as it was removed from the Time to Hope website. Haters.

All I'm saying is that I love an airport. Always I do. When I'm looking at 2 weeks of nothing but work or I'm sittin on the flipside, I love chilling against the wall at a gate, with my bags surrounding me, watching little kids dance and parents wish they had a leash for said dancing kid. Then there are those parents who actually have leashes. I love that usually it's just me and the Airport. And, of course, everyone else. It's a time for detox. This is my time to let it sink in.

I'll be home for Christmas.

I'm proud of the work I put into the past couple of weeks. But man, I am so over it. Thank you, thank you, God, for the strength.

Okay now I have to go because I am all up in the way as the pilots are lining up to get on the flight. I feel like I should move, because they are fairly crucial to my getting home.

For Christmas!