The Fatherless Have a Face

       This past Christmas some friends of ours hosted an orphan child from Ukraine for the holidays. It wasn't something I had ever thought of, or considered doing, but I was excited for them and that experience for their family. The young man arrived, and was so sweet and friendly. He had won the hearts of their family and unexpectedly impacted the hearts of those around them. One night just before his departure back to the orphanage in Ukraine, I was tucking my children in and saying goodnight. We always say prayers, and more often than not, we pray for orphans, widows, homeless, and those enslaved in human trafficking. That night was different than any other night. As I bent down to kiss my daughter, I heard sniffling. I asked her what was wrong, and her answer stopped me in my tracks. She wiped the tears that were streaming down her face long enough to explain. She went on to tell me that all of the times we had ever mentioned kids without parents, love, siblings, a family, or who go hungry, never really hit her until meeting this young man. She further explained that not only had she not realized what she had in her own family, but that meeting an orphan had opened her eyes to the orphans across the world. That there really are children with no home, no mom or dad, no family to show them love, or share Jesus with like ours. As she finished and the tears resumed, I felt a knot in my stomach as well as in my throat. She was not the only one who had been jerked into the fierce reality that the fatherless have a face. I sat there in the dark holding her and choking back tears. I reaffirmed that God holds the life of that young man in his hands just like he holds ours. I explained that God writes our stories, and though we may not always understand or even like some of the chapters that are being written, that in the end God brings good out of poor situations. I kissed her one last time, and went downstairs to continue processing all that had just taken place.
    In February we had our outreach conference for our church. We call it our ROC (Reach Out Celebration). We do this once a year to review all the amazing things God has done in our community and around the world, and we get geared up for the upcoming year of outreach and missions. Open Hearts and Homes for Children became one of our ministry partners, and our friends spoke of their hosting experience on behalf of that organization. As I sat there listening to the memories that they made, and the life change that took place, I was intrigued to at least check out their website. A week went by, and one day I was working around the house and I remembered I had wanted to check out the website to that hosting program my friends were part of. I looked it up and saw so many kids waiting to be hosted for the Summer. I am naturally drawn to sibling groups because I can't imagine our 6 ever being separated. I remember skimming through the pictures, and finding a cute photo of a sibling group. I casually mentioned it to my husband and the next morning they had been placed on hold to be hosted. I was happy for them! A few more days went by, and I found myself looking at those faces again. By now my kids had noticed what I was looking at and were wanting to host some kids in our home. I continued skimming through the photos. There was one group that I kept coming back to. I finally opened their bio, and upon reading those words it felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I read about their personalities, their likes, and what they wanted to be when they grew up. But the line that will forever stick with me is this one, "Her biggest wish is to have a baby doll and a stroller to push it in." I sat there silent. I was recounting all of the dolls and strollers we had purchased and played with over the years. All the toys that we have gone through, many barely played with. I sat there thinking of my own wishes, and how meager hers seemed compared to mine. I couldn't stop thinking of how easy it would be to fulfill that wish! I couldn't shake the feeling of needing to do something. I brought it up to my husband and he agreed to think it over. Through prayer and discussion we decided to step out in faith and host 3 out of the 4 kids. (The youngest is too young to travel.) I went through all the paperwork and those kids are now on hold because they will be welcomed into our home this summer.
     I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous and a bit scared. However, I am not scared about any of the things one might think. I am not scared of the language barrier, or how they may behave, or even the amount of kids that will be in my care. I am afraid of the hurt I might feel when we say goodbye, or the faces I may see as they turn to board the plane. I am afraid that our lives will never be the same. I am afraid of sleepless nights of prayer for them and others like them. Though even in the midst of all that, I can't turn away. The fatherless have a face. I have seen it. This summer we will experience it, and I can't look away.

Until Next Time...

P.S. If you want to follow our journey, look for more blog posts, follow me on Facebook or Instagram! Also check out our progress at
https://openheartsandhomes.managedmissions.com/MyTrip/schultzerichalahna1
 

That's A Wrap!

     I haven't blogged in almost a year! So much has happened, yet many things have remained the same. In case you're new to the blog, I am 35 years old, a wife, and a mother to six. I love God, love music, obviously love family, and am a free-spirited, artsy-type on the inside, but have realized that we thrive on routine and organization on the outside. That took a while to figure out, but it's true. We have also attempted to become somewhat minimalists in the home this year. This is difficult with a family of eight I am realizing. Though we only have a specific number of outfits, small amount of toys, and certain number of shoes, life is still lived and messes are still made. Toddlers still pee their pants, toys still get played with, and meals still leave dishes to clean. It has not come naturally, and by no means have I mastered it, but we are on our way.

     This past year I discovered many things. Some about myself, and some about the world around me. A few of the things I discovered were life changing! For example, Audible! I love to read, but I haven't completed a book in years! After I started having kids, I would read while I was nursing the baby. Then a few kids later I was chasing toddlers while nursing, so that was out. Then there was a season when I would try to read at night, but again, large family life had me passing out if I sat still for longer than 30 minutes. However, Audible allows me to be productive while listening to books. I love it! I can listen to a book and knit at the same time! It's amazing. Oh, I started knitting in the last year also. I always wanted to try it, so this year I did! I love that too! (Although right now I am on a knitting strike due to a certain sweater not turning out the way I wanted it to. Stupid sweater.)

     Over the years I have had a love/hate relationship with social media. That continues, except this year I discovered how incredibly behind I am in understanding aspects such as the whole Instagram/Facebook Story thing, so there's that. I think I have posted like 2 of them the entire year. I have, however, come to understand my love for taking pictures is two-fold. One is that I love the creative aspect of taking pictures, and secondly, I snap pictures wishing that they would forever be engraved into my memories. Over the last year I have gained a new appreciation for the life I have been given and the lives and health of all of our children, as both my son and I were scanned for serious conditions this past year. (All tests and scans came back clean. Thank God!) They say the days are long, but the years are short. There's nothing like the fear of cancer to put that into perspective. Live in and enjoy the present. Even if the present is painful, it's proof of life. Pictures are a way I can document the life I have come to love and cherish so much. Even the not-so-great pictures.

     I have learned that I am still strong-willed, and still hate being told "no" to things I truly want. I have further learned that it is ok to mourn over the end of a season, as long as I can rejoice in the coming one. I have been on the mountain top, and I have been in the valley. I have made new friends, and had to say goodbye to others. I have experienced joy amongst the sorrow of losing a friend who had suffered, yet suffers no longer. I didn't even know that was possible to feel joy while grieving. I am grieving her absence, but rejoicing in her being made whole with her Savior.

     Like I said, I have learned and discovered many things this past year, but here is what I am walking away from this year with...In every season there are highs and lows. There is grace and sometimes grief. There are victories and there are challenges. There is progress and at times setbacks. Yet every moment, every second, every ache, every joy, there is God. He is my greatest take away. He is my absolute. Regardless of circumstance or season, He is who He says He is, I am who He says I am, and nothing can take that away. Peace out, 2018! That's a wrap!

Until Next Year, Beautiful!

In Case Nobody Told You...

   

      Humans are very interesting beings. We are born, we live, and we die. What happens in between is what makes up what we leave behind. It's the legacy we leave to those we love. I am 34 years old, and have no plans of passing any time soon, but what I do plan on, is leaving a legacy. 

     It's a funny thing, life, because we can be so very intentional, but the unintentional inevitably happens. The memories of those who have gone ahead not only consist of the intentional acts of kindness, but the unintentional essence of who they were. To be honest, this challenges me. I not only feel challenged to be someone worth remembering, but challenged to tell those around me just how lovely they truly are. Why do we wait until one's memorial to notice and appreciate who they were, or the legacy they built? Why does it seem taboo to tell them while they are still building it? How life-changing would that be to speak life into that person rather than speaking about them to others once they've passed? What would it look like if we pointed out people's strengths instead of their weaknesses; to focus on their success instead of their failures?

     Encouragement, kindness, respect - these acts could impact not only the life of the one receiving them, but the lives that they encounter. There is enough hate in the world, so let's shine some light and love amongst it. May our legacies be built upon such foundations. 

     So, Beautiful...

In case nobody told you, you are deeply loved. 

You are worth more than you think. 

You have changed the world, though you probably don't realize it. 

God used you to change mine. 

In case nobody told you, you're value isn't defined by anything you've done or didn't do. 

You're human; it's ok to feel. 

It is also ok to cry.

In case nobody told you, forgiveness is not weakness. 

You have strength beyond what you've exemplified. 

Though, that strength was not meant to be used to bear the weight of the world. 

In case nobody told you, you are a brave soul. 

You are beautiful. 

You are appreciated. 

You are missed in your absence.

In case nobody told you, I am better because of you; 

So is my family.

In case nobody told you, you always have, and always will be enough.

In case nobody told you, thank you.

Every soul deserves to hear those words...

                            

                                                                                                      

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

                                                                                                                      

                                                                                                       

                                                                 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                                                                                                                               

                                                                                                                                                   

When Broken Becomes Beautiful

       I have lost count of how many dishes have been broken in our house. I've lost bowls, coffee mugs, and the most beautiful tea cups to accidental drops in the kitchen. Toys don't stand a chance. Walls become blank canvases to the artist's eye. Carpets are stained from life, and tables engraved with creativity. Through these years of having children in the home, a grace has grown for accidents. That doesn't mean that the frustration has diminished, that just means that the grace has increased when someone trips and their pizza flies through the air landing on my sofa. We've all witnessed things break, but have you ever seen a soul shatter? Maybe the soul of a child when you've snapped at them, or a person who has just had their heart broken. Maybe even your own, as life seems to keep coming at you. When a glass breaks, we might say a few choice words, but ultimately we sweep up the mess and move on. When a soul breaks it can't just be discarded. One of two things happens. The person remains broken, OR they don't, and they begin to heal and recover.

       I believe that there's beauty beyond the brokenness. We just have to lift our eyes to see past the present, and be brave enough to hold onto hope of the future. Physically speaking, one could take the broken pieces of glass, and create some mosaic masterpiece, or take an old pallet and furnish their apartment. (I don't know if I could actually do that, but Pinterest says it can be done, so it must be true!) The point being, just because something has been broken doesn't necessarily render it useless. The same goes for the soul. We've all been broken. Some of us have healed, some are in the process, and some live broken, but we've all known the sting of a break.

Be Brave; Be Beautiful

       Have you ever been walking through life when suddenly something triggers the sting of a past pain or failure? I know that's happened to me. I would patch it up, and keep going, but inevitably it would happen again. I didn't realize it, but I was living with an internal limp. There was brokenness that I hadn't identified, and it kept tripping me up at the most unexpected times. I got tired of having the same issues causing me pain, so I began to try to identify what the source of the pain was, and once I did, I wanted it healed and gone! As I started exploring some of the resources I had heard of regarding emotional healing, it hit me - all those amazing groups and books point back to the same solution! If I wanted the brokenness mended I would need to go to the only One who could redeem and restore. I read Luke 8:43-48, and I thought, "I want faith like that woman." (See below. It's good.) In my brokenness, I realized that this was not how I was intended to live. From that moment on, there was an aggravation, no, more of a contempt towards this hurt in my soul, and I wasn't going to live with it anymore. So, I didn't. I gave the pieces of my soul over to the One who could mend them, and I've never looked back. I still have the memories, just not the wounds.
       The beauty about the broken is that when Jesus puts the pieces back together they're never the same as they were before - they're better! When the woman He healed that day walked away, she was never the same again. She had engaged Jesus, and when He healed her, He sent her on her way with a beautiful story of redemption and restoration. He does the same with us. When we hand over our brokenness He responds with love, grace, and mercy, and if we are brave enough to walk in it we can't help but radiate beauty.
       Heartache, pain, brokenness, these are not what we were created for. We were created to carry out a purpose much greater than this. So, hand over the broken pieces, and be brave. When we are brave enough to trust Him, that's when broken truly becomes beautiful.

Until next time, Beautiful...

Adoption: A Total Game-Changer!

       I am a Mexican woman with a Caucasian twist. I guess that would be, what? A Mexicasian? YES! LOL! However, I didn't grow up speaking Spanish, or eating Latin inspired dishes very often. I didn't appreciate my tan skin, and wished for blonde hair and lighter skin like everyone else I knew. I grew up in a very southern and loving family. I didn't know what a tamale was, but I knew what grits were and loved them! Growing up, I had questions about my past, and also about my present. I was frustrated at the fact that my DNA matched no one I called family, and couldn't quite understand why I felt as if something wasn't quite fitting.

My Family

       See, I was born in Texas to a young woman who was scared to death, and a young man who had no clue. They parted ways, and somehow I ended up at a grandmother's house. Thanks to Grandma I was fed, clothed, and cared for, so much so that she was able to come to the wise conclusion that I needed more care than she could give. A couple in Florida heard through friends and family that there was little girl in Texas that needed a home. After much thought, they decided that they were that family. They adopted me as their own. They welcomed me in with abandon, saw to it that I always knew my story, and encouraged me to embrace it. They celebrated adoption, and put no boundaries on the definition of family. Later, I found out that my mother had kept in touch with that grandmother I mentioned for all that time! She was letting her know that she had made the right choice, and that I was loved. I would even write to her on occasion. From the moment she placed me into my mother's arms until she breathed her last breath, she knew I was loved, and that God had very special plans for my life. She was right. He did.

My Man

My Babies

       God used adoption as a major game-changer for me. I now have a family of my own, I have been married to an amazing man going on 18 years, we have 6 awesome children, I speak a little Spanglish, and love me some Mexican food! Oh! And those questions of belonging I had struggled with for so long? I found my biological parents, and all my questions were answered. I hung up the phone knowing exactly where I belonged - I had been there all along.
       Life doesn't always go the way we plan, but I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful that my journey involved a family in Florida with a heart big enough for me, and an elderly woman with wisdom and strength. I'm thankful that God always draws out the best from what seems to be a bad situation. He's good like that. I'm looking towards the future with anticipation. My hope is secured, and I can't wait to see what's in store! Let's embrace the journey! Whether you're a Mexicasian like me, or some other blend of wonderful, may we walk with our heads held high. We are His masterpiece, after all!

Happy National Adoption Month, Beautiful!

Motherhood can be a "Mother"

       Twelve years ago I thought it would be fun to have a kid. What I didn't know was that having that kid would begin the process of turning me into a mother. Then I thought it would be exciting to have another. Maybe they could keep each other busy, hence making my job easier. LOL! I know, I know, I was young. I quickly realized that motherhood should come with a giant "CAUTION" sign. Motherhood is no joke, and is not for weak or wimpy human beings! As I blabbed on about my musings and philosophies on parenting to all the seasoned mothers I know, they listened attentively whilst internally snickering at my induction into the motherhood club.

       I babysat many children as a teen, but there is no amount of babysitting that could have prepared me for my adventure in parenting. No amount of classes or advice could have guided me in the big decisions I would have to make on my child's behalf. No amount of training or mental preparation could have fashioned me for head to head combat with a strong-willed toddler. Let's be honest, motherhood can be a MOTHER! It is the absolute greatest thing in the world, but it takes a strong woman to raise strong children. As I sit here thinking about all of the blood, sweat, and tears that go into training and equipping these tiny humans, I am literally laughing out loud. Yes, I said blood. There is blood, bruises, and sometimes internal injuries that come with this job. I have been hit in the eyeball with a Woody doll, my face has collided with heads on many occasions resulting in bloody noses or black eyes, and I have flown threw the air like a stunt double to catch a falling kid ending in trips to the orthopedic's office. Then there are the flips on the trampoline that don't go as planned, the cartwheels that aren't as easy as they once were, and the God awful slip-n-slide. I hate that thing! I'm pretty sure I cracked a rib trying to "show them how it's done." However, that's all physical pain. Then there is the emotional pain. This is so much worse. It's the pain you feel when your child is in pain. When they come home and tell you that they have no friends, or worse, that they were not only the last pick, but that they were made fun of for not being any good at the game. Cue Mama Bear! On the inside you want to know the names and addresses of every single one of those little..., but on the outside you show compassion in the moment, and turn the moment into a teachable one. Then there are the moments your child loses a loved one, gets dumped, or loses all faith in themselves. Nothing prepares us to handle these moments except walking through them, and learning for the next time. The struggle is real!

       Conversely, motherhood can be the most joyful, satisfying journey ever known. When you witness your child ride off on his two wheeler for the first time, or when they grasp a concept that they've been struggling to get. When they make the right choice when their character is tested, or show an act of kindness without being prompted. Even a simple "thank you" or "I love you" can reaffirm your ability as a mother. In that moment you realize they are going to be ok, and that you haven't screwed them up or failed them. I look forward to the day when I launch them into adulthood, and they can walk in who they are and what they're made of. I also look forward to offering advice and encouragement as they pursue their own journeys. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I can't wait to hear all of their own ideas about marriage and parenting, but I can't wait for the day when they experience this joy for themselves. Until then I will continue to embrace the fire, sculpting, and the making of a mother that I am undergoing in this season. I appreciate the honor of raising the six kids that we have been entrusted, and will do whatever I can not to screw it up! 

       Motherhood can definitely be a "Mother," but it is the best job in the world. Whether you are a mother, young or seasoned, a woman longing to become a mother, or a woman who has her eyes set on different sights, I wish you well on your journey and all your adventures. May you give and receive grace where it's needed, and laugh when it's necessary! 

Until next time, Beautiful!

P.S. In case you were wondering, she had fun taking that pic with me. Lol! 
PC: Corinne Schultz-age 8

The Summer of 34

     This past Spring I turned 34. I don't feel 34! Though, many times over my body rudely reminds me that I am a 34 year old woman who has grown and birthed 6 kids. This may sound ridiculous, but my body has not bounced back like the body of the 31 year old mother of 5 I once was. The half marathon I'm currently training for lets me know it with each strike of the pavement. However, my mind and soul affirm me as I note the positive changes that have taken place over the last decade. Especially over this past Summer...
Age Matters, BUT Doesn't Define 
       I used to be afraid of getting old. Now, I am not afraid of aging as much as I am afraid of wasting time. Age is a rite of passage that we have the privilege of celebrating each year. It doesn't limit us by definition. Instead it opens a gateway to a limitless arena of experience and wisdom. Sure, our bodies may change over time, but we have the opportunity to embrace each new season with zeal!
Balance Is Overrated 

Rest is not laziness. Laziness is laziness.

       One of the bigger lightbulbs that went off in our home this Summer was that balance isn't that healthy after all. To try to put our energy and efforts into everything we do, or want to do, evenly across the board is impossible! Not to mention exhausting. As we were killing ourselves trying to balance everything we had on our plate, we realized that each SEASON calls for something different. We decided first to recognize the season we are in, and then to channel our efforts accordingly. This means that things and/or certain routines may not work like they once did. Or that priorities might need to shift to focus on something or someone a little more intently right now. That's ok! It's ok to admit some things that once worked well just aren't jiving any longer. Drop that plate and move on!

The Present Has No Pause Button

       Goals are a must. We need to have a target to shoot at when moving forward. I get that! However, the present is what's happening now. So, stop waiting until you've dieted for next year's bikini season, or checked off the list of all the things you wanted to change or do. Don't wait for the day when everything is just as you planned or you will miss out on all the great things that are happening around you now. Start taking steps in the direction of your goals, throw on that bikini in the mean time, and have some fun!
 Let What You Do Reflect Who You Are
       Who you are is amazing. You are unlike anyone else, and honestly I think that is awesome! After 34 years of life I am finally settling into who I am with confidence. I am ok with not being a super mom, or a super model. I am proud of where I am, and am secure in knowing where I am going. I am grateful for my great days, and grateful for grace on my bad ones. I am confident wearing a bikini that bears my scars from growing six children, and I appreciate the honor I had of doing so. I pursue excellence, but I loathe perfection. I choose to dream big, but hold those dreams loosely. I walk with my head up because I know who I am, and I want all that I do to reflect that.

Our present, and our future

       My husband and I are raising six children who we believe will change the world as they grow and blossom into the beings that their Maker has created them to be. We have 3 boys and 3 girls. We want them to see strong faith-filled and grace-filled parents who love them and who loves others. We are raising them to believe that they can do and accomplish great things. We live life where "the box" doesn't exist. We pursue greatness (not perfection) every day, and we encourage not only our children, but others around us to do the same. We try to model this so that they can see what that looks like. The Summer of 34 has been busy, exciting, and enlightening to say the least. I'm looking forward to the Summer of 35, and many to follow! I hope this season is treating you well, and as you make your way into the next, may you live well and finish strong!

Until next time, Beautiful.

Peace out, Summer!