Eternal Praise

May 9, 2011 by · 6 Comments

I really love to sing. I think I’ve mentioned that a few times. In fact, if you were a fly on one of the walls in my house, you’d probably have purchased earplugs by now.

😉

Cause Mae and I sing all day long.

Just a week or so ago I sang on Praise Team at church.

It was a bigger group of us, and it was so much fun to sing and praise God with this particular group of singers.

And there was a man in our group by the name of Don.

That man could sing.

I’d heard him sing a few times for different services, often on the praise teams, and even once as the entertainer at the Italian Festa put on at our church.

He had a rich tenor voice that wa s ju

st so beautiful.

For the last part of the service, he was standing just a few feet away from me, and during practice I remember smiling as I heard his voice booming out. I turned back to watch him for just a second.

I would have looked longer and stopped to savor those moments of music if I had known.

Just a few hours later Don lost consciousness, never regaining it.

He went to Heaven just a few days later.

I’ ve kind of been going back and forth as to whether to go to the funeral or not for the past few days.

I didn’t really know him or his family and finally decided not to go but will definitely be keeping his

family and friends in my prayers tomorrow as they celebrate his life and say goodbye.

But it’s interesting how, even though I never knew Don, his last moments have had such a deep impact over the last week.

Last night I was thinking about that Sunday and how close I was, physically, to that tenor voice.

Just days later, that same voice (but probably even better, if that’s possible!) is wowing Heaven and being sung to the very face of Jesus.

That’s just jaw-dropping amazing.

And not only is it amazing, but it will continue. He’ll keep singing with that same voice, praising the Father he loves, and someday we’ll all get to hear it again when we’re singing right along with him.

Singing and praising for eternity.

That’s just what I’m thinking about today. I’m so thankful for the promise of eternity and no more tears or goodbyes.

Someday.

Sig

Filed Under: music, remembering, where I am

How He Loves

May 2, 2011 by · 1 Comment

“All you need is love.” –The Beatles

I don’t typically quote the Beatles, although I do think there is some truth in this statement.

Love is that all-encompassing value.

No matter what we believe, where we stand on issues, or what personality type we are,

love is…and should be…that integral, overriding aspect that covers.

I’ve been thinking about love and what it looks like.

As a child growing up, I think I loved with the capacity that a child can. I wasn’t typically mean to other kids, I tried to be polite and helpful, and even though I struggled making friends, I’d go out of my way to be nice to the new kid. I even regularly gave away my belongings, which I think frustrated my mom.

:) I guess, in a child’s world, that’s love.

As a teenager, I was shaken and shocked by the amount of non-love I saw. Whether directed toward me or not, it was all around…a daily battle. To me, love was taking that time to accept all people…talk to them, speak kind words, and leave the meanness behind.

As an adult, love took on such a deeper, more sacrificial meaning. As a wife, I have learned (and still am learning) that love often means putting aside what I want for the good of my husband. It means pay attention to his needs and making those sacrifices when necessary for what is best for him. And for us.

It’s hard…and I fail far more often than I succeed.

As a mom, to quote what a friend said yesterday, love is being willing to throw myself in front of a Mack truck for my daughter…I’d do it without even thinking.

Although the love I have for my friends is different from how I love my husband and daughter, I do love them. As a friend, there’s nothing I’d rather be than there…even if it means staying up all night to cry, staying out late to laugh, or using up

all my cell phone minutes to listen.

That’s friendship, and I’m there…it’s how I love.

But how do I love my enemies?

One of them is dead…yeah, I consider Osama Bin Laden one of my enemies.

Pure evil, the kind that makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.

Last night when the news leaked out, my Twitter feed was full.

I have to admit that my initial reaction was right along with several that I read, Oh, yeah! We got that sucker!

Thankfully, I made myself stay silent…and consider things. I am learning that it’s not always best to share my emotional reactions with the world, especially in a place where my thoughts can be re-tweeted for all to see.

A friend even texted me, and I replied with a “YAY!”

I didn’t mean that YAY! in a negative, I’m-so-glad-this-jerk-is-dead way…just a what-a-victory-for-the-U.S. way. The people who suffered unspeakable loss on 9/11 now have some type of closure. After what they’ve been through, they deserve that much.

But a man is still dead. That man…as evil as his actions were…stood before God and gave an account for what he had done. And then he received his punishment…where he will spend eternity.

No matter how terrible someone is, the thought of him…or anyone…spending eternity there makes my stomach twist and turn.

Because God is not willing that any…ANY…should perish.

No matter what they’ve done.

On the day of 9/11, I was teaching third grade at a small Christian school in Wisconsin. I remember a certain boy from that class, who was usually on the quieter side and always very thoughtful, asking, “Miss Osmun, (yeah, I wasn’t married yet :)) can we pray for Bin Ladin?”

Holy cow, did he really just ask if we could pray for our enemy?

This eight year old boy?

And so we prayed…and he prayed the most heartfelt prayer of all. “God, I pray that Osama Bin Laden will get saved.”

We moved on from that moment, but I never forgot it. How at a time when it was so natural to not love a person, this third grade boy chose to love.

He chose to love just as our Father does…regardless of what we’ve done or how awful we are.

Because He knows that there’s still hope for us.

That’s just how He loves.

And now we have that opportunity again.

Hang on with me, ok?

Because Bin Laden is gone…and there’s nothing we can do to change that. (And I’m not even going to enter in to whether it was right to kill him or not. I, personally, think there are arguments for both sides.) But there are plenty of evil people still out there…enemies, as we would term them. People who do unspeakably awful things that we can’t even fathom.

And while understanding them may be impossible, praying for them is not.

Neither is loving them.

“I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy.

Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”

Martin Luther King Jr.

Who is God asking you to love today

?

Sig

Filed Under: encouragement, remembering, what I'm learning, where I am

One Year Later

April 25, 2011 by · 4 Comments

A year

ago, I left Indonesia.

I remember, so clearly, that last week…

Last get-togethers with friends, last movies, last laughs, final hugs, heartbreaking goodbyes.

I remember, even more clearly, my last day there…

Waking up early to soak in the last bits of my normal. Chatting with our pembantu, loving on my dogs, taking my time as I walked through our house, looking out the upstairs window one more time and memorizing every detail of the mountains that surrounded us. I loved those mountains.

The goodbyes. Trying to stop the constant stream of tears as I hugged our beloved house helper and friend, Ibu Sari, goodbye.

The physical heartache as we pulled out of Kota Baru for

the last time.

Two wonderful friends who gave up their Saturday to go with us to Jakarta to see me off.

One last dinner together at Chili’s…and trying (unsuccessfully) to force down some food, but being able to stomach Cold Stone.

😀 No idea why.

One last hour spent together in the Jakarta airport, snagging a semi-private corner, but not far away enough from curious stares.

There were laughs for a bit, and then the tears began to flow. At times I had to force myself to breathe.

Quick hugs to Dave and Tiff, and then Tobin walked me to customs.

Saying goodbye to him was the most awful part of that day, worse than leaving my Indonesia. My best friend, the one who had held my hand through everything, was staying, and I was going. I couldn’t stop crying. He held me as my body shook and the streams of salty tears flowed. It was all I could do to not dissolve on the floor in a puddle of hysterical sobs.

I don’t know where I found the strength…to actually leave his arms and go.

But I did…

I’m sure the customs official wondered why I just cried. I kept looking back to where Tobin was, waiting for his last glimpse of me, dreading the moment when we couldn’t see each other anymore.

It came…and so did more tears.

With wobbly legs, I made my way to Starbucks…I still had two hours until my flight left, and I couldn’t bear to wait it out at the gate. I snagged a comfy chair in a corner, curled up with my latte, and let the tears flow as I reflected on the five years I was leaving behind.

Eventually I made it to the gate and onto the flight. And I was gone.

Indonesia was gone.

Looking back, it easily ranks as one of the worst days of my life. It was a necessary day…but that didn’t make it any easier.

I still feel the heartache when I think about it. And the tears still come.

For the last week or so, my mind has been battling between focusing on Christ and thinking about my last days in Indonesia. Even though it’ s all in the pa

st, it still hurts.

I can’t believe how much I miss it.

Even more, I can’t believe it’s been a year. A whole year.

I have to admit that last week, my thoughts became so consumed with Indonesia that I had to turn things around or I was going to drive myself crazy.

So I asked myself, What has God done in a year?

And the answers to that question sent me to my knees in thanks.

He brought us through six weeks of being on opposite sides of the world.

He provided for me while I was really pregnant, emotional, and away from Tobin…friends, a car, a place to stay, people to love me.

He brought our dogs safely back to the U.S.

He gave us a car much nicer than anything we dared to hope we might be able to buy.

He gave us a beautiful daughter. (Sorry, that one deserved to be in bold. ;))

He gave us precious time with friends and family in Minnesota before we moved.

He gave us a house and neighborhood that are beyond what we could have even dreamed.

He provided amazing friends and a great church during a tough transition to a new community.

He’s slowly giving us a place to belong.

When I look back at the last year, there are things that make me cry and remember…and that’s ok. There’s a time for that.

But there’s also

a time for rejoicing and giving thanks. And we’ve got plenty to be thankful for.

God, you are Good. So, So Good.

Sig

Filed Under: blessings, family, friends, Indonesia, remembering

The Outcast

April 15, 2011 by · 2 Comments

She’d look in the mirror twelve times before leaving for school in

the morning.

How bad is my hair today?

Did I wear these jeans yet this week?

Are my shoes ok

?

What about my makeup?

Eventually she’d force herself to be satisfied and leave for school.

It wasn’t that she had

a problem with her appearance… but everyone else seemed to.

The constant object of ridicule and embarrassment, certain things needed to be acceptable just so she could survive the day.

Maybe they’ll notice that I bought real Keds, the kind with the little blue tab on the back.

Each morning at school was the same…wait in agony for the bell to ring, hoping that maybe someone might talk to her. Or even smile…a smile was ok, too.

Classes were different.

Usually there was someone who might be nice to her, but not always.

Middle school students, especially girls, can be cruel…

Especially to the outcast.

She’d try…oh, would she try.

She’d study hard, get pretty good grades, go out for sports, even attend extra curricular events.

But it didn’t matter.

They always looked at what she didn’t have, not what she had.

The name brand clothes, the right haircut, perfect skin, the star athlete label…all the things she so desperately wanted.

And always…always… she would fall short as

she searched for that place to belong.

The kind of search that squeezed tears from her already-bleeding heart…as she’d face recesses alone, sitting by people at lunch who wouldn’t talk to her…all the while hoping that maybe someone would care.

It was a delicate dance between hopefulness and realism.

And eventually, she gave up.

After all, she was the outcast.

That part of her would always exist, but she’d find ways to cover it.

Like forcing herself to be bubbly and talkative, hoping that maybe someone could see her for the true friend she could be.

Or, an obsession with hair, clothes, and makeup later that might make those who look only at the exterior willing to give her a chance.

Or, finally realizing that the Father loved her so much.

To Him, she wasn’t an outcast.

And accepting that would change her life.

Sig

Filed Under: remembering

The Weekend

April 11, 2011 by · 2 Comments

Yeah, I know it’s Monday.

But, in the interest of forgetting that it’s Monday, I give you a recap of a pretty good weekend.

First, it was so nice to feel better. I’m not 100%, but that’s ok…my head’s not clogged, I can almost sing, and I slept through the night for the first time in a week without waking up to cough for an hour. So I think that qualifies as better.

At midnight on Friday night/Saturday morning, I took a 48 hour blog break.

I mean, I still wrote on my blog, but I stayed away from the twenty or so that I read on a regular basis.

A blogging friend had done the same thing for a week, and I was inspired.

It was good.

I still allowed myself Twitter and Facebook but found that I spent far less time on them and on the computer in general…and I had tons of time with Tobin and Maelie, which was so great.

Saturday was nice…mid 60′ s and a perfect day for being out

side. Maelie had a wagon ride and some good swinging time, which she loves. Tobin did some work outside, and I sat under a tree and blogged.

We had some visits from neighbors…and it was just a good day to be out, enjoying our awesome neighborhood.

And good to get my first hint of color for the season. Not too much, though. 😉

Sunday was gorgeous…and it started off in the most amazing way. Bear with me…this is a little indulgent. But worth bragging about. A few weeks ago, I tried on a pair of pre-prego shorts, and they were nowhere near fitting me. I was bummed but wasn’t sure if there was much I could do about it.

Yesterday morning I saw a pair lying on top of a stack of clothes and grabbed them, thinking, Yeah, right.

Um, yeah, right!

They fit! (I didn’t even have to suck my belly in, either!) So, of course, I had to try on all of my shorts from two summers ago, and they. all. fit. All of them! Oh, there was much squealing and dancing around!

:)

We went to the late service, and the sermon and worship were both SO good…exactly what we needed. And to top it off, Mae actually sat through the whole service…with some help from a bottle and a container of Cheerios. 😉 We came home and spent some time outside…Mae (again) got to swing, and then when she was taking her afternoon nap, we tossed around the frisbee a little and just hung out in the awesome sunshine.

When Mae woke up from her nap, we decided we should celebrate April 10th and Isabel, so we went out for ice cream.

Sonic is kind of our favorite for a lot of reasons.

We like it, but it also represents a happy time in our lives, so we headed there. It was good to chat and remember…and let a few tears fall. But not too many…it was a really good tradition to start. And Maelie loooooves Lime Creamslushes…it was fun to watch her get excited for each bite.

It was just a fun weekend to be together… me, my hubby, and my girl.

Feeling pretty blessed.

Sig

Filed Under: blessings, family, remembering

Isabel

April 10, 2011 by · 4 Comments

Typing her name feels so surreal.

Isabel Mawar.

Isabel = my all time

favorite little girl’s name. Mawar = Indonesian for rose…my middle name, my mom’s name.

She is a little girl who is spoken of at our house…but only at our house. She lives in our hearts and was part of our lives for a very short time.

Today she’ d be a year ol

d. (Well, if she had been born on her due date.

;))

I often try to picture her…I imagine she would have looked very much

like Mae. A little pudgy with lots of spunk… and lots of Schroeder.

Smiley, giggly, and definitely a bit ornery.

Her passing was not marked by anything significant. Only her daddy and I knew of her existence, which we celebrated in hushed whispers and looks exchanged between the two of us.

And we mourned her loss alone, crying deep sobs for the little life that would never be spent…at least with us.

Two months later her sister entered our lives…our precious Maelie, the girl we have come to love and cherish

and absolutely adore. Maelie is our girl, the one God meant for us to hold in our arms.

To cover with kisses, dream big dreams for, and watch grow.

But Isabel is no less our girl…and she is missed, remembered, and loved.

So loved.

None of us would change things for a second.

But on days like April 10th, I allow myself to dream.

And remember.

Isabel, we love you so much.

We can’t wait to hold you in Heaven someday.

Sig

Filed Under: blessings, family, remembering

Remembering Indo

April 6, 2011 by · Leave a Comment

It’s late. 10:50 late, which really isn’t late unless I have to get up at 6 a.m. Which I do.

A huge chunk of today has been spent working on my talk for tomorrow. At the beginning of the day, I thought I would just blog our “Indonesia Story” as a way to get my brain going.

An hour and a half and 1,700 words later, I wasn’t even close to finished…and I figured no one would stick around that long to read it all anyway.

😉

I wanted to give you a peek into my Indo world tonight through an awesome slide show my husband put together.

However, God must have known that since I was remembering Indonesia today, that He should give me as many reminders as possible of this fantastic place.

(It really is wonderful, there’s not too much sarcasm there.)

His last and final reminder for me tonight was giving us slow, horrible internet… just like Indo.

:) We’ve been trying to upload the slide show for too many hours, and it’ s ju

st not happening.

Some nights are just like that…and that’s ok. I still had fun remembering Indo today.

I’ll tell you all about it over coffee tomorrow.

😉

G’nite!

Sig

Filed Under: Indonesia, remembering

Another Chance At Beautiful

April 3, 2011 by · 3 Comments

Before I even start writing today, I have to admit that

I’m surprised I’m attempting something so deep while my head is this foggy. (Yes, folks, cold #4! We are now blaming it on: a) a lack of a flu shot; and b) readjusting to American germs.)

Sure, works for me. 😀

And now that I’ve gotten that out there (mostly so you can all feel sorry for me…just kidding ;)) I’ll continue with the nitty-gritty honesty that is about to ensue.

It’s pretty gritty…just a warning.

*********************************

I w as

not really a cute girl.

I mean, as a baby/toddler/elementary student, sure. I had the cutes…most kids do. I’m actually totally in love with this super cheesy picture of me from around age 4.

I just think it captures who I am…even now. Someone who loves life, who’s willing to smile even when they hate their clothes (ICK!) and hair…true, oh-so-true, and who will add a little cheese to life…I do plenty of that.

But as a pre-teen and teenager, I hated the way I looked. I was not fat by any stretch of the imagination, but I wasn’t a stick-thin, size zero, either. I didn’t have the athletic ability to be a superstar or the name, which is what often determines the success of an athlete in a small town.

I was socially awkward and a nerd…and didn’t know what to do about it.

I struggled with friendships and longed with everything in me to be one of the cool kids.

I wanted so, so badly to be

Beautiful.

Nothing in me was even remotely close to it. I never had the right haircut, the right clothes, or the right people to think I might be. In fact, the only picture I have of me during that time is this one. Just check out that perm…can we scream, “90’s!” really loud, all together now?! Geez…I can’t believe I paid money for that. Ugh.

Eventually I “grew up” (haha, I know you’re all thinkin’ it! :D) and went to college, met my wonderful man, got married, had some adventures, and had my amazing baby girl.

And during that period of growing up, of course the true concept of beauty began to weave its way into my heart.

I know, now, that it isn’t the clothes I wear or what my hair looks like, although I’d like to think I’ve improved somewhat in those areas. :) I know, too, that it’s not about being friends with the cool people, although I think my friends are the absolute best! And that it’s not about driving the coolest car (although we rock the Dodge Caravan…they should soooo hire us for a commercial…) or having the most expensive house or things.

We all know that true beauty is on the inside.

But what does that beauty look like? I’ve been sorting out that concept in my head for a couple days. And came to the conclusion that

I am not beautiful.

I get jealous,

I get irritated, I get impatient. I get mean, I say things I shouldn’t, I get selfish. I mean, not all the time…but those things? They are present in my life now and then.

And it’s ugly.

I think the most amazing beauty emerges when a person is handed something ugly and chooses to make it beautiful.

My life…was ugly. Full of sin, brokenness, and anger.

I could go into minute details, but those of you closest to me don’ t need

them because you already know.

When I was sixteen, I was about as broken as a person could be…and for all purposes, abandoned, alone to sort out the mess that my life had become.

And then…I look. At the following sixteen years, and how God redeemed. How He fixed cracks and glued pieces and made things new out of shards of shatteredness.

He took a life that looked hopeless and gave me a reason to hope.

That’s beautiful.

He didn’t make everything perfect or the pain go away.

Instead, He taught me that there is beauty when we choose to rise above pain and make something out of it. But not on our own…in HIS strength.

And each day I have the choice to be

Beautiful.

A choice to put aside feelings of anger and jealousy and let the love of God control me and what goes on in my heart and actions.

To let Him take the pieces and use them for His glory.

Every single day I have

Another chance at beautiful.

Sig

Filed Under: blessings, encouragement, remembering, what I'm learning, where I am

Indo-sick

March 26, 2011 by · Leave a Comment

Yowsers, I’m homesick for Indonesia tonight.

It doesn’t really happen often, although sometimes I’ll see a picture and feel a little tug at my heart.

And then I’ll think of a gre

at memory from there, and the tug turns into more of a pull, which hurts a little.

Have you ever had a moment of wishing that just took your breath away

? That’s kind of what it’s like. No tears, really…just a really deep breath.

And missing it.

So I thought I’d share a happy memory from our time in Indo.

I had some pretty great students…they were each cool in their own way.

But I have to admit that the group I taught for two years (4th and 5th grades) has a special place in my heart.

One of my favorite memories of that class was early on in their 4th grade year.

We were just getting to know each other but having some fun with everything that comes with the beginning of a new school year. One of the girls was a bit of a class clown but loved by everyone, and once in awhile she’d have a hard time staying in her seat. One day during math class, I said to her, “Student, pretend your bottom is glued to your chair.”

She got a sheepish look on her face, and I turned back to the board

to finish writing the math problem.

Suddenly, my class broke into hysterical laughter.

I turn around, and here is the student, running laps around the classroom, holding her chair to her butt.

We. Laughed. SO. Hard.

True, I probably should have maintained a little more professionalism, but it was one of the funniest moments of my teaching career.

She did it to be funny, and hey, we can all use a little more laughter in our days.

True?

I smile whenever I think of that class, but I really smile when I think of her and that moment. I wish I had a picture of it or something…but it’s still etched in my mind.

And that’s enough for today.

If you’re a student from that class, and you happen to be reading my blog, I’m sending you a hug from Americ

a. (Or a fist bump if you’re a boy. ;)) I miss you all.

Sig

Filed Under: Indonesia, remembering

Micah 6:8 (Part 3): Love Kindness

March 22, 2011 by · 1 Comment

So I am somewhat hesitantly picking up

thi s

post and running with it tonight. I’ve inadvertently been putting it off for weeks awhile now.

The word kindness has perpetually been in my mind for the past several days and the need to write about it has been nagging.

Annoyingly nagging.

Which probably means there’s something I need to think about.

I don’t think any of us are ever intentionally mean to others…ok, I take that back. There are bullies in the world who just love to be mean.

Sadly, I’ve encountered a few.

I don’t get people like that and I stopped trying long ago to understand them.

The only thing I can conclude is that they need Jesus.

But I’ m getting ahead of

myself.

So let me tell you a little story here that has to do with adorable, little Mel (approximately age 5) being not so nice to cute, little Becky (approximately age 4). (Becky, I hope you don’t mind that I’m telling this story. :D)

My two best friends growing up were sisters, Missy and Becky. We basically grew up together and remain best friends today. Their mom would babysit me and often they’d come over to my house, too, and one Sunday afternoon they came over to play after church. We usually played Barbies or with my Strawberry Shortcake dolls.

I remember that we started to argue over who got to play with Orange Blossom, the favorite doll among the three of us. Somehow Becky ended up with that one, and I wanted it.

I remember staring at her as she unassumingly giggled.

She really had no idea what I was thinking.

And then, it happened.

I punched her in the stomach.

We joke about it today, but I. got. in. BIG. trouble.

The funny thing is that I don’t even really know why I hit her…I just think I was annoyed with the fact that she had what I wanted.

There were consequences…I’m pretty sure I got sent to my room while Missy and Becky continued to play. And worse than that was how horrible I felt, even at the age of 5…ish. I had been mean to my best friend and hurt her feelings.

(But I didn’t really hurt her stomach…she told me that later.

:))

I have often thought back to that moment and realized that if

I had just thought about it for a minute, I never would have hit her.

And if I think about that now?

Well, I’ve grown up. I don’t go around hitting people anymore. 😉

But there are other ways to be unkind, to do damage.

And most often, it’s with our words.

I always have open-mouth-insert-foot moments. I know I am bad about speaking before I’ve fully processed the words about to come out of my mouth. It’s never intentional…but that doesn’t make it right.

Part of being kind is stopping to consider others’ feelings.

We saw the ultimate example of k indness

in Jesus. He lived a perfect life, walked among sinners, and loved them anyway. He loved them with his words and actions and ultimately, his sacrifice for us on the cross.

The least I can do is work on loving others with my actions and words.

I’m not perfect…and that has ever-so-in-my-face been pointed out to me the past week or so. But when I know there’s something I should be working on…well, I should do it.

Father, guard my actions and my tongue…help me to show kindness in the way I treat others and speak to them.

P.S. And a little treat for ya all…the three amigos from about the year 1987, give or take.

:) Aren’t we so cute? (And I am such a dork…in an equally dorky outfit. ;)) Here’s to happy memories. I love these girls!

Sig

Filed Under: friends, remembering, what I'm learning
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