Kourtney’s Blog

“Mom, I like you. But don’t tell anybody. Especially my Sunday School teacher.”

David whispered these words while we were sitting in his closet putting on his church clothes.

“Mom, we just had THE MOST SPECIAL time together outside.”

Rich shouted these words after playing football, shirtless in the rain with his little brothers Friday afternoon.

“Mom, we have to throw away our fuzzy animal board book.” “Why, Joseph?” “Because they killed farm animals to make the part that you can touch and feel.”

Joseph was so relieved when I told him that animals did not die in the production of his old book.

“David, do you think Jesus likes that song?” “Mom, I don’t like Jesus anymore.” “Why, David?” “Cause Jesus kicked me in the head while I was standing on Daddy’s ladder.”

These are the conversations that happen 24/7 in our house. My life is full of great material.

My friend Ken recently blogged about writing about what you are passionate about, what you are knowledgeable about, and writing consistently. I’ve been stuck to his words. There are so many things that I passion. My life is too short to write about everything that I love. But right now the greatest material involves my sons, my marriage, and maybe a little miscellaneous.

So I hope you enjoy my narrowed focus. My feeble, hopefully at least weekly attempts to share my heart, hone my dusty writing skills, and prayerfully, bless you in the process.

God often speaks to me thematically. When I allow enough white space in my life, I see the connections–the places where He wants to get my attention. I am in a season where God is unveiling a dot to dot puzzle inside my heart, and I can’t color fast enough to keep up with him. It is thrilling and terrifying all at the same time. He’s outlining a path for me to be more of who I was intended to be. But I have to leave a big suitcase behind. And although I have baggage, it’s really cute and it matches my other accessories. It’s hard to let go.

One of the dots was connected the other night when a dear friend came over to hang out after the kids went to bed. It was one of those peaceful nights when the kids were asleep before she arrived, and the living room was picked up. I’d Windexed the sliding glass window, lit some candles, and added soulish itunes to the air. Rich is on a trip, so it was girls’ night. Our goal was to speak more than three sentences to each other without a child crawling on us. She brought her jammies. I’d been wearing mine for hours. We talked about the stuff from your guts that you bravely whisper out loud only a handful of times in your life. It was holy.

One of the things I keep thinking about was a conversation we had about marriage. How when you marry the right person, when you don’t give up in the hard times, you start to become more of who you were made to be. I was reminded of how many times I am able to hide who I really am and what I am really thinking, feeling, and battling when I am going about day to day life. I try so hard to be ‘good’ and what I think that others want and need me to be. I am trying to do less of this, but old habits die hard.

Then I get home and I try to hide from Rich, but it doesn’t work anymore–especially after almost 13 years of marriage. He’s figured me out. He knows when I am trying to hide. He sees the licked spoon in the kitchen sink, sees the withdrawal for Starbucks on the debit card past my monthly coffee budget, knows when I’ve hit the snooze button for the third time, and trips over the pile of laundry that still isn’t folded. Sometimes I think that I don’t really want to be known so well. The darkness tells me that it isn’t safe for someone to know what a mess you really are.

The baffling thing is that in spite of all of this, Rich loves me the most. I am his favorite, and he is mine.

The reality is that Rich is the one who has learned how to preemptively grab me in the dark when I’m about to have a nightmare. Rich is the one who holds me in the light when the tears come gushing as I battle the voices that taunt me with lies about who I am. He knows my tactics, bad habits, and sorrows better than anyone ever has. He knows my deepest darkest secrets. He’s the one who once shelved his dream to put our family first. He’s the one who continues to prioritize us day in and day out when there are things he’s rather be doing.

I just walked our dog and enjoyed a few minutes to think more about the conversation the other night. I was pondering the implications in my life that I am Rich’s favorite. On the sidewalk, it dawned on me that the thing that Rich does the best is love. He’s really good at strategy sessions. He can plan a ministry and has an excellent ear for foreign languages. He’s an Eagle Scout. He’s a great athlete. He’s a world traveler. But at the end of the day, what he does best is that he loves people well. He is fiercely loyal. He is a cheerleader. He is generous. He is brave and courageous with his love.

He’s exactly what I needed. My husband is not perfect. But he is perfect for me.

I found, well Rich found, a new blog that I LOVE. Her name is Julie, and she is a MOM! She wrote the following article, but first I want to give you the back story.

I pride myself (oops that should have been my first sign that there was a problem) on not yelling. But yesterday, in the Chick-fil-a drive through, with low blood sugar, PMS, bickering kids, and a husband on the phone delivering bad news that I didn’t want to hear, I LOST IT! I mean, I really lost it. At the top of my lungs, with hubby on the line, I yell “EVERYBODY–BE QUIET NOW!”

Awestruck faces and absolute silence in the car and on the other end of the phone.

“Kourt, are you o.k.? I’ve never heard you do that before?”

I wanted to say “Do I sound o.k.? What part of EVERYBODY BE QUIET NOW sounds o.k.?” But thankfully, I didn’t. I just said, “Babe, I need to call you back.” Then I profusely apologize to my kids for yelling, smile my good southern smile at the perky employee whose pleasure it was to serve me, and drive to the nearest place where I can sob and cry and finally pull it together enough to apologize to my kids again. “Mommy is REALLY sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. Will you forgive me?”

The first redemptive part of the story is when my kids say “Mommy, why are you crying? We already forgave you. Can we just get to our playdate?”

The second redemptive part of the story is when my precious husband calls in the middle of my picnic with two other mommies (who knew I’d lost it with my kids) and says, I just ran across something I think you’ll want to hear. I don’t really want to explain why. I just want to read it to you, is that o.k.? I said, o.k. and proceeded to hear the following words from my new best friend Julie who lives in Fort Worth, is a mommy to three young boys and wife to one brave soldier.

Thank you Rich for saving the day.

Panic.  Attack. I was sitting at a red light when it happened.  Sitting in my SUV, my 2 boys in tow and it happened.  I had an anxiety attack.  Just sitting there.  Seemingly waiting for a green light to move, to go, and I was suddenly in a sweat, beating heart, mind spinning, stricken with fear. All sitting at a red light listening to the Wiggles. I recovered.  But soon found myself sitting and weeping before the Lord, then screaming and shouting.  Was God pleased at all with me?  Where had I gone wrong?  I was better than this.  How was I making any difference?

A Mom.  A broken Mom.  My visions were gone, probably vanished somewhere between poopy diapers and sleepless nights.  I didn’t go places anymore.  I surely wasn’t reaching the lost.  I put puzzles together, made mac-n-cheese, and disciplined senseless arguing.

Suffocated.

My head spoke of staying home with my boys, keeping our home in order, creating peace for my husband, loving my Lord; but my heart bled with fear.  Dreaded fear like I’d never known until I held my firstborn son.  Fear of doing it all wrong.  Fear of messing it all up.  Fear that was suffocating me.

I thought surely I am worth more than this daily list of chores, sometimes forgetting to shower, and hardly being noticed.  I was equipped for much greater.  But my desperation ran even deeper.  Like a ton of bricks strapped to each ankle was my bondage, my shackles.   With each baby I birthed, it was as if I picked up a few shackles on my way out of the hospital.   Perfectionism. Control.  Pride.  Performance-based living.  Significance in others.  Shackled.  Shackled.

I needed the gospel.  I needed my Jesus.  I needed to let the Holy Scriptures rain down upon my motherhood and fill me with hope.  Hope everlasting.

I am saved by grace through faith when I speak with an impatient harsh voice toward my son who just flooded the entire bathroom.

I can do all things, including changing diapers, making mac-n-cheese, and disciplining senseless arguing, through Christ who strengthens me.

I must go therefore, down the hallway with a cheerful heart, showered and ready for my ministry, and make disciples of all nations.  I greet my boys with gladness.

He rejoices over me with singing and quiets me with His love.  His love is not attached to my perceived greatness or performance.  I’m not popular with hardly anyone, apart from my handsome husband and brave boys.  Fruit comes slow in this ministry.  I’m on my knees.  I talk less.  I listen more.

And so I continue.  I still sit at red lights; now in a mini-van with 3 boys in tow, jamming to Toby Mac.  Our days are crazy, but I’m thankful He does all things well.  My visions are back, just with new faces.  I’m in full-time ministry for the Kingdom.  I get up and put on my full armor cause there’s no doubt I’m going into battle for the day.  I fight for my marriage and I battle for the future hearts of 3 young men.

A babysitter.  The world tells me I’m just a babysitter.  I rethink.  I am an ambassador in my home, for my family, to the glory of my God.  I am a Mom.

Dear Friends,

My 36th birthday is Tuesday, March 30th. This year, I am celebrating in grand style rejoicing in the improving health of our Joseph. Here is our latest update:

Thank you so much for your prayers and encouragement of our family this season. We have officially passed the halfway mark of our time in Denver and are beginning to think through preparations for our return to Orlando. Here is an update on the last leg of our journey.

Get out your Kleenex…

Joseph is thriving. It’s like we have a new child in our home. I don’t know any other way to say it, but each day we see more and more of who God made him to be. Probably the most enjoyable part for us is that he cracks well-timed jokes with a precious little grin on his face. His abdominal pain is gone. He doesn’t have bowel issues anymore unless he is exposed to gluten (Mom’s fault twice). He’s gained weight for the first time in over a year. He’s continued to grow taller. He is on the lowest possible dose of asthma medicine.

The Celiac Disease experiment turned out to be very fruitful. With our lead doctor’s blessing, we chose to omit the small intestine biopsy and remove gluten from his diet (no easy feat, we assure you). We began in January and almost immediately saw relief from his abdominal pain and bowel issues. We are still addressing his GERD symptoms, but we have been encouraged by our nutritionist that there is a huge chance that those will cease eventually. His asthma has continued to be much less severe here in Denver. We are hopeful that as his immune system continues to heal (CD is an auto-immune disease) that he will grow stronger and healthier. We met with the top endocrinologist at Children’s Hospital, and he said that Joseph absolutely does not need to be on growth hormones. Our weeks ahead include more testing to ascertain his overall lung function at this juncture, 2 trips to the nutritionist, a gastroenterologist, our endocrinologist and our last few visits with our lead doctor. We are still uncertain exactly how much his asthma is impacted by his Celiac Disease or if they are separate issues altogether.

There are a few questions that many of you have asked:

1. What happens if Joseph eats gluten?

He has an immediate and violent bowel reaction + abdominal pain. Gluten hides in the most unlikely places (i.e. Powerade as we learned the hard way at the top of a mountain a few weeks ago. It wasn’t pretty, but he handled it with such humor and courage that I wanted to weep, giggle at his jokes, and worship God simultaneously).

2.  What about our other family members?

We are all eating gluten-free at this point as it is frankly just easier than doing it the other way. Because Rich’s Dad has the same gluten-issues and CD doesn’t always present as dramatically as it has in Joseph, we will eventually explore David and Rich’s situations. Right now, they are being INCREDIBLY good sports and are eating G-free and donning the same supplements as Joseph.

3. FUTURE?  What about our geographic future?  

Our lead doctor said last week that she believes that we will know within 3 months of returning to Orlando if Joseph will be o.k. in the Florida humidity long-term. This is definitely the hardest part of journey right now for us. We have always wanted to be in Colorado long-term. We love our friends here and have made new friends, too, who have become very special in a short time; however, being here has showed us how much we LOVE/ADORE/MISS our roots in Orlando with our ministry teams, our home, our church, and the friends that God has given us. Feeling up in the air about the permanence of our return is unsettling. We are thankful that we work for such an incredible organization that is willing to allow us to serve from here as it has completely changed our lives. We are trusting that God will continue to lead and provide in this part of the story.

Please don’t stop praying. We have miles to go before we sleep, but we are definitely celebrating at this leg of the race!

With Love and Thankful Hearts,

Kourtney + the boys

“It is not enough to put your heart and soul into something. The really important things require much more than that.”

Dear Friends,

We wanted to give you an update on Joseph. Last Tuesday morning was our most recent appointment. We are more encouraged than we have ever been about his health. We LOVE our team at National Jewish. Our primary doctor is from Germany, and our secondary doc is from China. Our nurse is a kind, older American woman. What are the odds were that God would give us German woman and Chinese man at a Jewish hospital to help us find answers for Joseph? We  love their countries and love that they are helping us.

Here’s the summary. I would happy to provide more details if you have further questions.

LUNGS:

1. His lung function numbers have improved since we arrived. He was first tested on November 17th. Fully medicated, he is breathing within normal ranges. They cut his medication in half as of Tuesday night to see how he does.
2. His next asthma appointment is March 9^th.  They are going to test him with and without medication.
3. They are going to do a test in March that will test his overall lung health.  They will irritate his lungs and see how he responds.  The test that they did on Tuesday and in November is a very detailed measure of the amount of air that he can blow out.

GROWTH:

4. He has grown 1.5 cm since we arrived. (We are saying 1 cm to be conservative, but they use a very high tech device to measure him, and it showed 1.5 cm)

GASTROENTEROLOGY:

5. It looks there is a high possibility that he has am auto immune disease called Celiac Disease.  This would explain his growth issues, GERD, tingling extremities, irritability, stomach pain, etc…Rich’s father has dealt with similar issues throughout his life and recently began a gluten-free diet. He has been pain-free abdominally for the first time in his life.
6. The reason we haven’t seriously considered this before is that CD is the #1 under-diagnosed genetic condition in the US. It takes the average person 9-11 years to get diagnosed. 10-30% of folks with CD have really overt symptoms that are blatantly life-threatening, but the majority live below the water line–living with chronic, but seemingly manageable issues, or slowly deteriorating and eventually having severe issues.
7. The gold standard test for Celiac Disease is a biopsy of the small intestine.  Since Joseph has had so many procedures and this one would again require general anesthetic, we agreed with the doctors that we would remove gluten from his diet to see if his symptoms improve.  Because there is a significantly greater chance of having Celiac Disease if you have a family member with it and symptoms are often silent, it is also possible that Rich, Rich, and David could have it.  So, as of yesterday, our entire family has embarked on a G-free diet (Gluten-free). This is not for the faint-hearted, but since we are used to reading labels for milk ingredients, we aren’t totally freaking out by the learning curve.
8. The great news about CD is that removing gluten from the diet is the only treatment that there is. Once gluten is removed, the small intestine begins to repair itself and body starts absorbing nutrients again. In children it can take as little as 3-6 months to see a remarkable difference. I read one author who said that most people with a life-threatening illness would be thrilled for the doctor to tell them that the only thing that they need to do is to remove one ingredient, albeit an ingredient that is extremely prevalent, and their body would heal. This has deeply encouraged me and shaped my attitude about this potential blessing. We would honestly be so thankful if he has Celiac Disease as this would explain SO many things and hopefully prevent the need for growth hormone therapy.

FUTURE:

9. We have an appointment with a Gastroenterologist at the end of February (1^st available appointment at Children’s Hospital)
10. We have our next appointment at National Jewish on March 9^th.
11. We have an appointment for a second opinion with the Endocrinologist on March 24^th.
12. The six month plan from our doctor is that she would like to figure out for sure if he has Celiac Disease and if not, what is going on with his GI system, get his lungs in the best shape possible, and make a final decision on whether or not he needs growth hormone therapy. Then she would like for us to return to Orlando and see how he does in the fall with his breathing. Obviously, it looks like he is thriving here lung-wise and it very much points to the humidity in terms of his asthma. However, her hope (and ours) is that by addressing the other issues, it would improve his asthma, and he would be able to live in Orlando, Denver, or wherever God might take him in the future.

We are greatly rejoicing. I wept on Tuesday night as I was shopping for Gluten-free food in Whole Foods and getting Joseph’s lower-dose Asthma medication at Walgreens. I feel like we have been fighting for our little guy for so long, and now we have tracks to run on. Thank you for walking through this season with us. David and Rich are doing really well. All three boys start basketball tomorrow morning and will be Jr. Nuggets through the local YMCA. I am sure that Rich’s Facebook page will be flooded with proud daddy pics by noon!

 Blessings,

 Kourtney

Since I write our families’ monthly newsletter, I love reading Christmas letters in December.  Here’s my favorite for 2009:

The Zserdin’s list of things broken, destroyed, or used in a
manner not originally intended. 2009 Edition

1 Pair of eyebrows - Zach shaved his off in April.

1 Pan of cooked potatoes- Found later in the boys’ dresser drawer.

1 Road bike - Mike had a wreck during a race. He wants to make sure you know it wasn’t his fault.

1 Front porch post - Tracy backed into it coming out of the garage.

1 Large recycle dumpster - Zach used it as a clubhouse during a music recital after excusing himself for a bathroom break.
1 Office rug - Lit on fire during a birthday party/tissue paper debacle.
Bedtime - We wrote a note giving bedtime instructions to the sitter. They counterfeit the original note changing bedtime from 8pm to 10pm (This one is my favorite).
1 Old, beloved friend - Walking into the playroom one day, this is how I (Tracy) found my Grover doll. I asked Jake what the story was. He looked at me sideways and chuckled a malicious reply: “He, he, he…the death chamber.”

Best Quotes

Zach: “Mom, can I mow the lawn? The tractor and I need some alone time.”

Jake: “Mom, is today the day I can clean your tub?” Tracy: “Yes Jake, today is that day.”

While listening to a song on the radio that said, “He rose, say it’s Jesus” Zach asked, “Did that song just say: stinky cheese breath?”

Mike asked Jakey why he likes GoFrett, his favorite cartoon character, so much. He said, “Because he is such a great actor.”

Recently, Mike had a barista tell him that he could be William Shatner’s son. Earlier in the year another one told him he looks like Kevin Spacey. Apparently he spends too
much time at Starbucks. Or, they are milking him for better tips. Mike was uninspired by William Shatner, and didn’t know who Kevin Spacey was. They didn’t help their cause.

God obviously knew what he was doing when he put our crazy bunch together.
Praying that God will meet you right where you are this holiday season. He isn’t afraid.

Love,
Mike, Tracy, Zach & Jake

A few weeks ago, we met with our doctor at National Jewish for the first time. She is a kind, thorough, German woman who clearly knows her stuff. As we dove deeper into Joseph’s medical history, she looked up at me at one point and very gently but seriously said, “I think that your son has probably been in pain his whole life.” It felt like a blow to the gut, but in the midst of moving in and caring for our family, I haven’t truly processed what she said. I tucked her words away, but today, like a tidal wave, they rose to the surface.

After reading the story of Susannah Baker, another mom with a child struggling with health issues, I’ve let myself go there for the first time…Remembering the early years with Joseph when he was often inconsolable…Remembering how hard it was to figure out what was going on and clearly being so far off from what was really the issue. Remembering the unkind words of well-meaning but also clueless people who encouraged us to spank him and to let him “cry it out”. Remembering the nights I slept close to make sure that he was breathing well…Remembering the moments of utter frustration when nothing that I did would sooth him or meet his needs…Remembering the sweet respites when he was pain and medicine free, and we saw bigger glimpses of who he really is…Remembering the dashed hope when we had to return to higher doses of medication that wasn’t even doing what he needed…

I clearly haven’t made much progress in my processing. The truth is that this post is my maiden voyage. But I am inspired by the words that I read last night by Sue Monk Kidd

“When we share our inner stories, we allow others to enter our lives and partake of our deepest truths. We discover that we share the same joys and tragedies, the same ambiguities and struggles…For who has not come upon a season when the water of the soul is disturbed? And does not God meet each of us as we brave the swirling dark in search of wholeness. God, the sublime storyteller, calls us into the passion of telling our tale. But creating personal spiritual stories is an act of soul-making that does not happen automatically. It comes only as we risk stepping into the chaos of our lives and naming the angels that inhabit the shadows. It comes as we give expression to our struggle for individual meaning, identity, and truth, as we wrestle with angels, both light and dark, and celebrate the places where God stirs. In the crucible of story we become artists of meaning. There we meet God most surely.”

Thank you Susanna Baker for sharing your story. I have no idea who you are or where you and Lillian live, but I thank God for you tonight.

We took our eldest daughter, Lillian, to the doctor today.  Lillian is only 3 ½ years old, yet in her short, three years of life, she has been in her fair share of doctors’ offices.  Thankfully, she has never had any sort of life-threatening illness, but the Lord seems to use medical ailments in her life to draw her to Himself and to continually remind my husband and me that Lillian does not belong to us, but to Him. 
 
So today’s visit was no different.  In one way, it was routine.  I knew what to pack in the medium-sized canvas bag I always take to Lillian’s doctor visits.  It had its fair share of pictures for her to color, books for us to read, and snacks for us to share during the invariable wait that lay ahead.  And, as always, Lillian was a champ.  She was polite and cooperative with the doctor, made each of the nurses smile, and left with a lollipop in one hand and her daddy’s hand in the other.
 
Yet the diagnosis was different.  In the past, we have received news about Lillian concerning her lungs, her heart, and her brain.  Today the diagnosis concerned her hearing.  Off and on, for the past several months, my husband and I have wondered if Lillian’s hearing was impaired or if it was only a chronic case of three-year-old “selective hearing.”  But the doctor confirmed that Lillian has fluid build-up in her inner-ear, which causes her to hear the world around her as if two fingers were stuffed into each side of her head.  She doesn’t hear soft sounds, and at times it is difficult for her to hear loud sounds.  And what we, in the past, have thought was just an ability unique to her personality to focus well on the task at hand could very well be a by-product of her inability to hear.  She has learned to shut off the world without and retreat within, to a place she can hear.
 
Thankfully, Lillian’s hearing problem is easily fixed.  With minor surgery, the doctor will drain the fluid, place tubes in her ears, and remove her adenoids (part of the lymph node system), and Lillian’s hearing should be as good as new in no time.
 
Yet as I pulled home into the driveway, unloaded the canvas bag, and tucked Lillian into her bed for her nap, I felt an ache tugging at the edges of my thankfulness.  I remembered the countless times she asked me, “Mommy, please turn the music up,” and my saying, “No, Lillian, you can hear the music; it is loud enough.” I recalled my frustration at having to repeat directions four or five times, the last time with impatience in my tone and frustration in my eyes.  And I could hear myself calling her name for the tenth time when her back was turned to me, inevitably ending in me saying in a rising tone, “Lillian!  LISTEN to me!” when all the time she could not hear what I was saying. 
 
I remembered all of these things, and the ache in my heart made its way to tears in my eyes as I reflected upon all the ways my Heavenly Father has responded to the deafness in my heart through the years.  He never shows frustration and impatience when I do not listen. He does not shout at me, or turn away from me, or give up on me.  He stands at the door and gently knocks until I can hear. And when the hurt or pain of life or the sorrow and consequences of sin have deafened my ears to His Voice, He calls my name in love until I respond once again.
 
My only response was, and is, “Thank You.  Thank You for being the Parent who always loves, always protects, always hopes, always forgives, always patiently understands.  Forgive me for all of the ways I have hurt Lillian and You because I have not been willing to follow Your example.”
 
So I am thankful. Thankful for doctors who are willing to use their God-given knowledge and skills to heal.  Thankful for easy access to the Medical Center and for the vast array of doctors and specialists there.  I am thankful for a child who sweetly responds to all of the ways God has chosen to draw her to Himself.  I am thankful for my husband who never misses an appointment and never fails to first  fall to his knees, and then to comfort, console, and yet be an immovable rock all at the same time.  And I am thankful for my God who loves my child enough to place His mark and His Hand upon her.  For my God who is faithful to remind us that Lillian is His, not ours.  And for my God who patiently and lovingly parents me, even when, and especially when, I cannot hear.
 

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.”  Psalm 103:1-5

As you might know, we have been wrestling with health issues with Joseph since he was about 22 months old, battling his asthma very consistently. We learned last spring that he wasn’t growing as he should be, and he failed each of six Growth Hormone Stimulation tests. We know that it’s not Cystic Fibrosis, allergies, or a brain tumor as these were ruled out. However, asthma that is not well controlled and/or steroid use are potential causes for growth problems. We also have some strong genetic factors related to his asthma and growth issues that seem to be playing a role. 

This summer Joseph grew 3 cm while we were serving in Colorado and had a huge respite from his typical asthma issues. While this could be totally coincidental, our doctor feels that there is a strong possibility that his asthma is exacerbated by humidity, and we’ve spent most of his life in very humid places (France, Florida, Texas, and Mexico). Consequently, our Pediatric Pulmonologist recommended that we spend the winter and spring in Colorado to see if he does as well in Colorado during the cold, winter months as he did in the summer. 

We received permission from our boss, Ken Cochrum, Vice President of Campus Ministries for CCC, to spend the winter in Denver. Almost immediately, things fell into place. We found a wonderful Christian family to rent our furnished home in Orlando for six months.  We were given an appointment almost immediately at National Jewish Hospital in Denver (one of, if not the top respiratory hospitals in the world). We have dear friends who direct a Classical Conversations group in Denver so the boys will continue their schooling with little interruption. God continued to open doors to lead us to spend six months in Colorado to get to the bottom of Joseph’s health issues.  Our prayer is that we can reduce his steroid use, increase his lung function, prevent lung scarring, and hopefully prevent the use of Growth Hormone Therapy unless absolutely necessary. 

I will be continuing my ministry from Denver. Our team is hosting our annual meeting with the main campus ministry leaders from around the world in Orlando this year, and I will return to Orlando the first week of December to participate. I will return most months for our team strategy meetings, and I can easily do my international travel out of DIA. The great thing about my role is that I can truly do my job from anywhere. I look forward to continuing to engage with ministry leaders globally as we seek to help grow student led movements everywhere…especially virtually!Thank you for your prayers and support of us during this journey. We thank God for your partnership with our family in the wonderful ministry that God has called us to. If you have any questions, please feel free to email or call. 

Blessings, Rich (and Kourtney)

I am cleaning out my closets in anticipation of another family enjoying our home this winter.  I must admit that I have been tempted to go Ebay, Consignment Store, Garage Sale crazy.  These are precious things that we’ve taken good care of, and although we don’t need them anymore, making some extra money right now wouldn’t be a bad idea.  But the thought keeps creeping in to give it away–to the friend who still can wear the Ann Taylor suit that I can’t fit into right now–to Rachel soon to have her first son–to my fellow homeschooler who might need some new curriculum that we aren’t using.  Please don’t hear me as saying that it’s wrong to do Ebay, Consignment Stores, or Garage Sales. Quite frankly, if I had a little more discretionary time to sort right now, I might list a few things myself.  But I just read an article from one of my favorite authors, and I’ve decided that since I don’t have a lot of discretionary time or cash right now, I am going to live like a millionaire with discretionary giving.  Want to join me?  Let me know if you need something.  It just might be in a little box in my garage waiting for you.

Recessionary spending

October 21, 2009
 

Things are tight. They are at my house, and I suspect they might be at some of yours, too. And when we’re not sure of our resources, we tend to draw back - to pull in. We hoard instead of spending. We ask ourselves, “Do I really need that now?’ or “Do I really need that, ever?” These are good questions and worth asking whether we are in a recession or not. But a voice in my head keeps calling out for spending, and not the kind you might imagine.

I’m hearing a line I know one of my parents must have said more than once in my growing up years, because it stuck: It doesn’t cost you anything to be kind. That’s the kind of recessionary spending I could get behind recession or no - and lately, it’s a kind of spending that has been modeled to me.

A week or so ago I sat in a Starbucks with a colleague who wanted to show me something on her laptop, but couldn’t get her wi-fi to cooperate. A fellow sitting nearby saw us struggling to connect and called over a suggestion. As we continued to try, he got up, walked over to our table, and tried it himself. Still no deal. Then he said “just a minute” and logged off his own computer so we could log on - as him! Come on now. No one does that. Turns out he was was a regional Starbucks operations manager, sitting in the store doing some paperwork. Turns out he was kind, and spent some of that kindness on us.

On a recent flight from Portland, Oregon, to Houston (3 legs, nearly 7 hours in the air and a full day of sitting, taking off and landing), I had accidently gone on a mini-fast. It never occurred to me that after a cup of oatmeal at 6 a.m. I wouldn’t be eating anything but peanuts until nearly 6 p.m. if I didn’t ”pack a lunch.” I couldn’t leave the plane, so I couldn’t eat. (Now you know what airline I was on!) On the next-to-last leg, my seatmate (who learned I’d been flying all day) reached into his briefcase as we were preparing to land at his destination, and pulled out two packages of cookies. “Here,” he said as he winked and handed them to me. “Dinner’s on me.” A little more kindness.

Yesterday I received a gift in my mailbox that took my breath away with its generosity. The postmark said it was sent from Alabama, but I’m pretty sure it originated in heaven. It was definitely recessionary spending, and I was on the slack-jawed receiving end of someone else’s kindness.

I’m seeing a pattern. Are you?

It doesn’t cost you anything to be kind. That’s what my parents taught me. And these three kind spenders have taught me a lesson, too. My new plan is to spend my way out of this recession in as many ways as I can, one crazy act of love at a time. Join me?

You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand - shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven. (Matthew 5:15-16, The Message.)