I love Compassion International.

The trip I took to Kenya in 2010 started a chain of events that will lead me back to Africa 11 days from today. I cannot tell you what an integral part Compassion has played in helping behind-the-scenes with Mercy House planning.

I believe in their sponsorship program–so much so that we sponsor 11 children–from Africa to the Philippines.

We love these kids. We will meet 4 of the 11 in Kenya in less than two weeks. My kids will meet the children they have prayed for at bedtime and scribbled letters to–face-to-face.

I wrote about Precious on my blog nearly a year ago. She is 19. And she just happens to be my 4 year old’s best friend.

So, when I heard that the next Compassion Blogger trip was going to the Philippines, Precious’ country, I knew my 4 year old and I had to take a shopping trip. We tucked nail polish and flip flops, candy and treats into an envelope and mailed it to a blogging team member.

Precious writes the most beautiful letters in gorgeous English script. We feel like of all our kids, we’ve gotten to know her best because she’s older and writes often. She just graduated from high school, but will stay in the child sponsorship program until she’s 21 (part of the program’s initiative to stop child trafficking).

Oh, and she’s a beautiful girl, wearing purple flip flops, hanging out on our fridge.

So, this morning when I opened my computer for the first time at 9:30 a.m., I was surprised to find an alarming amount of tweets with my name. I followed the trail …..

to this post by Shaun Groves, who is leading the current trip to the Philippines RIGHT NOW.

You won’t believe what he discovered.

In an instant, I was bawling.

I can’t tell you how much I needed this. It didn’t convince me of Compassion’s stellar program-I’ve been a believer and advocate for a long time.

But it did feel like God was using this unbelievable “coincidence” to speak to my heart: “I know it all, Kristen. Every step. Every dream, fear. I care for you. I love Precious. A sparrow doesn’t fall without me knowing. I hold it all.”

As our family prepares to fly around the world to work at Mercy House and our dear Maureen and staff, actively recruit and interview pregnant girls this week, I just needed this reminder.

He holds us all.

Would you please consider sponsoring a child today?

God will use it to speak to you…maybe a year from now, when you need it most.

It will change your life.

On Sunday, my pastor reminded me of something I tend to forget:

God doesn’t demand I do big things for Him in order to bring glory to Him.

He demands that I remember He is the Big Thing.

And I can bring God great glory as a mom and wife, if I honor Him in the little, every day choices:

choosing to say positive things to my hubby, not negative

giving my kids freedom to fail and fly, without controlling

being the first to say I’m sorry

being slow to speak, slow to anger

remembering it’s okay to be okay

Sometimes He asks Big Things of us (usually when we least expect it), but we’re never called to save the world and lose our family…

God doesn’t demand Big Things.

But the little things–some of beauty, others mundane– add up and become a Big way to bring Him glory.

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We used a local Groupon deal to rent a boat and celebrate an early Father’s Day with the best man in town at a nearby lake. We loved every windy minute!

Have a beautiful Memorial Day!

I have looked forward to this l-o-n-g weekend for a l-o-n-g time. I love that Memorial Day means SUMMER around these parts!

I think we’re gonna swim and drink sweet tea and just be together.

I’m so thankful.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS WEEKEND??

I’m excited to follow the Compassion Bloggers in the Philippines next week. I sent a package with one of them to give to Precious!

P.S. Since we’re going to be in Africa for Father’s Day, I do have a little *something* up my sleeve for my hubby this weekend. I’ll tell y’all about it next week!

I keep meaning to show y’all my Mother’s Day gift. If we’re Twitter or FB friends, you’ve seen it. But I love it so much, I might tell you about it again tomorrow. But in case  I don’t, come back. I like to mix the crazy up.

[Speaking of crazy, I'm so busy packing 1000 pounds of donations in 18 suitcases, getting ready for Africa (leaving in 15 days!) and remembering all my kids  last-week-of-school activities, that I'm a pretty scatterbrained person right now. I have forgotten about 4 important things this week!]

Anyway, back to my pretty:

My hubby read this tutorial, bought some bronze wire, a few pearls (one for each of my kids) and a twist of pliers, he made me my favorite new necklace! He said it was surprisingly easy and inexpensive.

Every time I wear it, people stop and ask me about it. I brag that my hunky hubby made it. (I leave out the part about it being easy and inexpensive!)

I love that man.

P.S. I *totally* emailed him the tutorial.

I slammed the bathroom door and exhaled loudly.

Doubt and defeat assailed me.

My husband looked up from shaving. I knew he’d heard the harsh words between my kids and I. The battle would be forgotten, but not the words. I beat myself up: why do I engage? Why don’t I just walk away…?

It was a rough Sunday morning with a whiny preschooler refusing her clothes, an emotional tween outburst, and an easily distracted son still not dressed for church, not to mention the constant sibling arguing and the mom who’d had enough, biting off every head she could find.

I’m not going to lie:  it was all very ugly.

My thoughts immediately went to our upcoming trip to Africa in just three weeks.  With slumped shoulders, I put words to doubts: Why are we going to Africa? Why does God want us? We aren’t worthy of this.

I’m not worthy of the task before me. I have no business leading a non-profit. I am terribly inadequate and not qualified to travel across the globe with my family to help at Mercy House.

I am prone to sin. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it:

And after I dumped that verbal mess on my husband, he pulled me close and said, “Good, that’s exactly how you should feel. We aren’t worthy. We are inadequate. We are nothing without Jesus.

But He is worthy. He is adequate. He is everything.

He will go before us, work through us, use our unworthy mess of a family to accomplish His purpose.”

And then I recognized the attacker, the one who seeks to destroy my soul and uses my own weaknesses to try and accomplish it. The one who uses the people I love the most to discourage me the greatest, the evil one whispering “Kristen, you aren’t worthy of this calling,” into my ear.

I closed my eyes and listened to my wise husband. I acknowledged the spiritual war raging and I remembered the girl I love across the ocean waiting for me. I offered it all to Him. I will not be defeated by doubt and fear.

When I feel unworthy, it’s probably because I am.

But I’m leaning heavily on the One who is worthy.

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Last week was hard. We had a plans to go to the beach (something I honestly don’t love-love, but the rest of my people do. Love).

As we packed our lunch for the day, we received more bad news. I didn’t want to go.

But it was exactly what I needed:

"Mom! There is sand on my hands!"

"Dude." (new favorite word)

Yes, that is seaweed in the background. Galveston is not known for it’s beauty. But we aren’t picky.

This girl LOVES the beach. "Mom are there fleas in seaweed?"

My hubby (fourth child), building a sandcastle.

"Mom, do I have a farmer tan?"

"This is the best day ever!"

My kids teach me that even in sorrow, there is joy.

And now I’m looking forward to the next trip to the beach.

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Are you a beach lover or a there-is-sand-in-every-crevice-and-the-water-is-freezing-kind-of-girl like me?

So. I’m sort of a mole-y person.

I guess it’s just a part of the dark hair, olive complexion. Well, that and I used to sunbathe on TIN FOIL, slathered in baby oil in Jr. High.

There’s that.

But, honestly, with my crazy-busy life, it has never once occurred to me to have “my moles checked.”

Which is as exciting as it sounds. Woohoo!

I was still proud I followed through with my first base-line mammogram 3 years ago.  Until I realized I was a year behind on my annual exam. Clearly, I’m in the maintenance mode of life.

I visited with my out-of-state brother for the first time in a long while the other day and after he hugged me, he said, “You’ve really got a lot of wrinkles around your eyes.” (You’d have to know my brother).

THEY. ARE. CALLED. LAUGH. LINES.

Only I wasn’t laughing.

Anywho, back to the riveting mole post.

Having my “moles checked” wasn’t in the life plan, but long story short, a friend of a friend, died from a mole turned fatal melanoma at age 40.

Um, “mole check” for one, please?

A few weeks later, taking a break from my busy-crazy life, I found myself in a paper gown.

[lowdown on the process-it's pretty thorough-but not too terrible of an experience]

I thought for sure, my sun-induced freckles and spots would bring a lecture. I was surprised the doctor focused in on a mole I had on my hip since childhood.

And then she said, “I don’t like the look of it. I think we should send it to the lab.”

Quicker than I could blink, she was giving me an injection and cutting it off for a biopsy.

I was a little worried, thanks to Google (beware of searching “Moles” under Google Images. Ick)

After a week of uncertainty, I received a call from the doctor.

“Your mole was abnormal. Pre-cancerous-the kind of mole that is likely to turn into melanoma. It’s very good we removed it. We will need you to come back often for more checks.”

Holy Moly.

I was relieved and thankful for the series of events that led me to the doctor.

Who knows, if you’re reading this, it might just save your life.

Or at least make you more comfortable in your own skin.

[insert prompt here to go have your "moles checked" y'all]

P.S. Whatever you do, don’t pull a Kramer (Seinfeld) and try removing your moles with a deli meat slicer.

An oldie, but goodie:

Last week, my daughter’s 5th grade Honor Choir sang a traditional African (Zambia) folk song at their Spring concert. I thought y’all might enjoy it as much as we did:

P.S. I’m all about the dancing

Translation of Bonse Aba:

John 1:12 “Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God”

My oldest has a sweet voice and fills our house with music. We’ve all been humming the tune to Bonse Aba for weeks, but my 4 year old has her own version:

And speaking of jewelry, which is totally what my little girl was talking about (ha!)

Look at what you can purchase at Dayspring now!!! New product alert!

Plus, Mercy House has an all new site!

Our trip to Africa is still on–coming at us quickly in less than a month. We thought long and hard about postponing it in light of Maureen’s losses. But she is determined to open the doors and begin rescuing girls and we are determined to love on her! Will you please continue to pray for us and especially, Maureen, as she attends her sister’s funeral this week?

And also-UNRELATED: an animal of some kind crawled into our Dryer vent hose and DIED.

Guess who is giving herself a LAUNDRY PASS?

It smells bad in the laundry room, y’all.

I’m a mom.

I’m an advocate.

One was planned, the other wasn’t.

Wanna guess which is which?

My every day regular life is crazy, full of car lines, gasping at dirty rooms, juggling three little people who consume a lot of goldfish crackers and produce piles of laundry.

Being an advocate for orphans and those in extreme poverty has made me a better mother.

• In America, with all our convenience and comfort, I think we forget how good we have it. We take education, accessibility to medical care, clean water for granted. Perspective is the greatest gift I can give my kids.
• I let things go that don’t matter. I don’t nag (as much) about messy rooms and home repairs. Because what I have is enough.
• I value life more because I’ve seen too much preventable death. Life is so fragile.

Being a mother has made me a better advocate.

• I view the orphan crisis through the lens of motherhood. How can I not? I want the best for my kids and basic necessities are a given in my neighborhood. I want every mom in every third world country to have clean water, education about breastfeeding, help when their baby is dying of diarrhea.
• We are nurturers by nature, compassionate by design. I think we make the best advocates!
• Mothers are queen multi-taskers. Enough said.

Bottom line: How do we advocate with our families as moms without sacrificing them for our cause:

Balance is crucial. The last thing I want to do is raise my kids with a guilty complex, forcing down dinner because I’ve seen starving kids.

• Involve your kids, but don’t ever force it.
• Take a break when you sense resentment.
• Live a life of compassion in front of your children, show them compassion.
• Pray together about your passion.
• Allow them to have ownership and allow them the freedom to not take ownership.

Are you an advocate for a cause close to your heart?

This is your chance.

To Advocate.

How do you balance it all?

I’m on my way to Summit in Kentucky. I’m emotionally exhausted-the perfect place for God to speak and renew. I’ll be helping out at the blogger meet-up, speaking on a panel about advocating as a busy mom and representing Mercy House. I’ll share more with you in the next couple of days.

Come visit the Mercy House table!

The last few weeks have been hard.  A friend emailed me these words “You are doing mighty, dangerous work, and he’s got you on his radar and you can count on us to be your prayer warriors. Jesus ever lives to make intercession for us, and our voices will join His, and our Father hears.” I appreciate your prayers-Maureen appreciates them, too. They are making a difference.

After I walked my youngest into her preschool class, a teacher asked me how Maureen was doing.

I didn’t know what to say. A few sentences explaining her grief seemed trite. “Please pray” was all I could manage, remembering the day before when Maureen and I stared at each other over Skype and watched each other cry.

Sometimes there just aren’t words for the aching of the soul.

And then she said, “I’ve been wanting to ask you: How do you go about your every day life with such a heavy burden? Raising kids, your family…knowing that so many suffer.”

Tears welled. Spilling over.

“I don’t handle it very well,” I said. “I struggle.”

I told her of my own 4 year old who refused dinner, whining and complaining about the choices. Half an hour before, I read about a 4 year old, starving to death, unable to walk with swollen, worm-ridden feet.

Struggle

I told her of the painful heaviness that comes from seeing extreme poverty at  such a personal level coupled with the ultimate gladness that comes from loving, living and learning with my husband and precious children. Sorrow and joy and I’ve forgotten how compartmentalize; it all runs together, the laughter and tears.

Struggle

I told her how I’ve forgotten how to be carefree.

I swiped tears and remembered my place in her classroom. I mumbled an apology. She said kindly, “Now I know how to pray for you.”

I walk away, too broken to even be embarrassed.

I think of all the things I didn’t say: How unwelcome tears fall when least expected, how satan pummels me with doubt, how fear suffocates me and how inadequacy is a constant companion, how I fight bitterness.

How I carry a deep, abiding sadness that is hard to shake. The knowing is almost unbearable. How I try to balance this online space that I love between easy words and hard ones like these.

Back at home, I find a place, the one that beckons me to knees.  I know what I need to do when the burden gets too heavy.

I give it to Him.

He gives us a glimpse into His heart, broken for His people. But when it becomes too much, He lovingly says,

Come to me all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30

And today, you may carry a heavy burden. One that suffocates and closes in–an illness, a sick child, a lost job, unspoken words you only utter to Him….

Give it to God. His shoulders are broad enough to bare the weight.

He cares for you.

“The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” — Psalm 34:18

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I’m so thankful for the support of my real life community group and blog friends like Maegan for their help! Maegan lives in Louisville, Kentucky and set up the Mercy House table for me! Y’all should read her blog.

My oldest was supposed to be filling up the plastic “baby” pool for her little sister.

I walked outside and my youngest greeted me with, “Hi, Mommy. We found some mud. DON’T BE MAD, okay?”

Happy Mud-her’s Day to you!

P.S. I chose not to get mad.

P.S.S. But I did lock the backdoor on my way back in.

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Mother’s Day isn’t joyful for everyone. There are some women in my life who are struggling this year. Don’t forget to hug your friend struggling with infertility, the mom who’s spending the day grieving for her lost child or missing her mother...

[I've shut down this giveaway in order to mail the books in time for Mother's Day!] Random comment winners: Sarah at Mommylogues, reader Maggie Ortiz, Meghan at Spicy Magnolia, and reader Heidi. Please send me your addresses a.s.a.p. so I can mail the signed books!

I shut the van door quickly, mentally making a note to send my kids back outside to clean up The Filth…a lost shoe, crumbs, a jacket, a Bible, a coat hanger and a Christmas ornament (??)

My arms were full as I balanced groceries, the dry-cleaned suit hanging on the door and a box of donations for Mercy House. I dumped it all in the entry and closed the laundry room door, so the piles of laundry that needed washing and folding would stop LOOKING AT ME.

Look! an unedited picture

The youngest had her whine on and my son needed help with a school project. I set him in front of the computer (we use a lot of filters) to print out images of ferrets for his “pet project.” [Y'all there is some scary stuff on Google images]. I ended up spending an unplanned 30 minutes printing out pictures for him.

About that time, the cat and dog started in on the daily Frenemy routine and knocked over a plant, the phone rang, I realized I never turned on the crock pot for dinner and a strange man was at the door.

CALGON. (Y’all are probably too young to remember, but that’s what I wanted).

I ignored the phone, screamed at the pets, pulled out a box of macaroni and eye-balled the stranger from behind the column near the front door.

I debated whether I should answer it and pretend we weren’t home. Because getting MUGGED was not on my to-do list. Heck, the last hour wasn’t on my to-do list either.

But then my kids walked right passed me, blowing my cover and waved at the stranger.

I cautiously opened the door to a delivery guy with our Visas to Kenya. I sighed in relief-less from being mugged and more from getting our awaited documents.

And then the man said, “M’am? You might want to take your keys out of the door.”

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Don’t have it all together? Perfect. Tell me about a current MESS in your house and you’ll be entered to win one of FOUR signed copies of my book Don’t Make Me Come Up There!: Quiet Moments for Busy Moms(delivered in time for Mother’s Day to give or keep).

I’m also giving away one on Twitter today….follow here.

and one on Facebook….here.

Or you can purchase it for Mother’s Day for only $9.15!