Cindy Finley

Archives for June 2010

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Slithering at Poolside



You  have to understand that I am not proud of what I’m about to share.

I don’t like to swim.

I don’t like to be splashed.

I don’t like water in my eyes.

I don’t like getting my hair wet.

And, honestly, at 43, nearly 44 years, I still haven’t come to grips with my body.  This is the part I’m really ashamed of and I wish wasn’t true.  I really should be “okay” with my body.  For goodness’ sake. I’ve given birth to six kids and my teenage daughters still raid my closet.

Anyway, rather than playing with the kids or my husband in the water,  I typically am poolside with my sunglasses on, a cool drink beside my chair,  a book in my hand, and my body sufficiently covered up.

But, Sunday, it was hot, really hot, and without a book or a cool drink with me,  I decided to lay aside my MO and swim a few laps. Uncharacteristically, I put on a pair of goggles and slipped into the lap lane – a lap of freestyle, a lap of backstroke, a lap of freestyle, a lap of backstroke.  I’m thinking as I’m swimming, “This isn’t so bad.  These goggles mean I can keep my eyes open and my contacts won’t float out.  Maybe I can get my own goggles.  Maybe if I start biking too, I could do a triathlon.”  But there’s a hissing at poolside.

I’m on the last few strokes of a lap of backstroke.  I reach for the wall.  I flip over and …

… you are not  going to believe this.  You are really not going to believe this.

A camera, a massive television camera was in my face.  I am not joking.  Film me poolside reading a book, cool drink in hand, in my sunglasses, hair dry, sufficiently covered, but NOT and I repeat NOT with goggles on, hair wet, in a bathing suit, and SWIMMING for goodness’ sake!  My triathlon dreams are absolutely gone.

Watch this.

Now, if you missed it, look carefully at :24 – :27.  That’s me.  In all my swimming glory.

When I flipped over and saw that camera, I just about died.  Not only was the massive camera right there in my face, but several of my kids and their cousins were lined up with this camara-gal, who, out of the 500 men, women, and children who were swimming, chose to film me.  She didn’t know it, but there was something slithering around her feet.

“Why are they filming you, Mom?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

Exposed.  Naked.  Defeated.  Definitely ashamed.  I wanted someone to toss me a towel, even a fig leaf or two would have been helpful,  as I oh-so-carefully climbed out of the pool, dodging the serpent as he crawled away.  Back behind the sunglasses.  Back behind the book.  Cool drink in hand.  Hair dry.  Sufficiently covered.  That’s where I wanted to be.

As the hissing faded, I thought…

“Do I really believe that what I say to other women is true?”

“You are made in the image of God.”

“Your identity is in Christ.”

“Outward beauty is absolutely nothing compared to a heart that is possessed by God.”

I count on these Biblical truths for the women I speak to at retreats and women’s events, for the women I disciple, and for my daughters who all need to know that they are more, so much more than outward beauty.  I come alongside them and work to place courage from God’s word into their heart.   I work hard to help them see themselves as made in the image of their Creator, to cling to the One who declares beauty  and redemption over them, rather than listen to the words of the one who is the serpent from the Garden, the father of lies, the one who came to steal, to kill, and destroy.  But situations like this bring it home to me.

If I believe these truths for other women, do I believe them for me?

Tenderly God says,

“You, my daughter, are fearfully and wonderfully made.” Psalm 139:14

“Your outward beauty may be fleeting, but as you stand in awe of me, as you cultivate a heart that is at rest beneath my gaze, beauty that does not fade is yours.” Proverbs 31:3, 1Peter 3:3-4

I wonder at these words. Do I believe them?  Do I really believe them?  Poolside.  Goggles off.  Sunglasses on.   Sufficiently covered up.   As my hair dries, the question gets more personal…

“Do I really believe You?”

His word washes over me and I know … I do.  I really do believe Him, although my belief is, at times, weak.  I’m still growing up, still growing into the reality of my belief, still battling the lies I bought hook, line, and sinker as a teenage girl.   “Oh, Lord,” I whisper, “help my unbelief.”

And He does.  The lies lose their grip.  The liar slithers away.  The hissing all but disappears.

No doubt about it – I wasn’t prepared for the slithering at poolside on Sunday.  But Jesus was.  He wasn’t surprised.  And He’s working daily, sometimes hourly to replace the lies with Truth, to transform me from the inside out. And He won’t give up until the transformation is complete.  Until He sees me fully as He intended me to be.  Right from the very beginning.

Where does the enemy attack your identity?  What’s your “poolside?”  Are you like me and struggle with messages lingering from your teenage years?  Do you have an easier time believing Jesus for other women than you do for yourself?

While the enemy is not creative, he is crafty.  Slithering at poolside,  he’s a liar, a thief, a killer.  But Jesus came that we might have life, and have it to the full.  To the FULL.  (John 10:10)  Really.

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“Not this” (continued)

“Not this.”  I just knew that God would not lead us away from homeschooling.  And then I remembered …

Sara Maria, who is now 17, asked me during our Family Devotions one spring night just after she had just turned 11, “Mom, can I really pray for anything?”

“Sure, Honey.  But only if you’re willing to accept that God’s answer may be yes, no, or wait.”

So, Sara Maria went on to pray, “Lord, would you open the way for me to go to Columbia.”

Now, right away, I knew exactly what God’s answer was, and it wasn’t “Yes.”  A team from our church was heading to Columbia, South America that summer. Columbia … “kidnapping capital of the world.”  Sara Maria was praying to go with the team to the kidnapping capital of the world.  Our plan was for Bill to go, but for me to stay home with the kids … ALL the kids, including Sara Maria.

But God’s answer wasn’t “No.” And, as you would expect, Sara Maria’s 10-day trip to Columbia with Bill AND me  impacted her … big time.  This summer, she’ll be participating in Compass at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary.  And although she is so excited about La Vida, and looking forward to the seminary classes, what really has her pumped is the 10 days she’ll spend in Mexico City.  Although Bill and I don’t yet see the whole picture of God’s call on Sara Maria’s life (and ultimately that will be up to her discern), we began to see glimpses when she was a little girl with a big heart, no fear, no Spanish, and loads of charisma teaching tag to 30-some kids in a barrio in Columbia.

Running around in the dusk with these Columbian cuties, we saw God’s hand on Sara Maria’s life.  Later that week, we walked with our team through a troop of armed security guards into a school and left our daughter in a 5th grade classroom.  We observed classes, talked with administrators, and then sat down for a school celebration of Columbian independence.  As the kids danced and sang, we saw our daughter – clad in a Columbian soccer shirt, blue, yellow, and red bracelets around her wrists, beads dangling from her ears.  We saw God’s pleasure over her as she laughed and sang and received.   Although she still treasures the earrings, bracelets,  and the soccer shirt the kids gave her that day, they are not her most valuable gift.

I thought I knew God’s mind when Sara Maria asked me that evening, “Can I really pray for anything?”

I thought I knew God’s mind when my heart clenched up and I said, “Not this.”

But God is so gracious.  He didn’t pry my fingers off of homeschooling, rather He spoke to my heart gently and tenderly.  He spoke to me in His Word.  He didn’t do it in a magical way, but in a supernatural fatherly way as I read the Bible.  I didn’t look up specific passages, or seek spiritual hocus-pocus, but rather I just read my Bible following the reading plan I had started in January.

My “Not this” changed to “Yes this, and more.  Take it all.  Take every devoted thing.  Take everything I am withholding from you.  Take every area of my heart that I guard.  Take even the things you have given me, if these things are keeping me from You.”

As I read day after day through the life of Saul, Samuel, and David, and in psalm after psalm, God awakened in me one desire …to be in His presence continually, regardless of the earthly cost.

O God you are my God

earnestly I seek you

my soul thirsts for you

my flesh faints for you

as in a dry and weary land where there is no water

So I have looked upon you

in the sanctuary

beholding your power and glory

Because your steadfast love is better than life …

…For you have been my help

and in the shadow of your wings

I will sing for joy!  (Psalm 63)

And then, He promised that as I pursue him wholeheartedly, he will direct my path.  In verse after verse, chapter after chapter, He said to my heart, “I am your one desire.  I WILL lead you.  I will NOT abandon you.  You can trust me with your heart.  You can trust me with your children.”

(To be continued, one more time…)

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“Not this”

That was my attitude toward homeschooling earlier this year as Bill and I faced personal weariness from such an intense year.  It wasn’t simply our adoption of Katya, but also …

* church stress

* marital strain

* parenting disconnect

many of which rose during and through the adoption process.

*For a church, it’s hard for the pastor to be out of the country for over six weeks.

*For a marriage, it’s hard to nurture your relationship when you are in frontline wartime mentality.

*For parenting, it’s hard to maintain connectedness when you’re separated by an ocean for weeks.

Arriving back with Katya on November 18, we began to pull our family back together, assess the damage, and move forward.  We haven’t done it perfectly.  At all.  The Refiner’s Fire continued to heat up our hearts and draw impurities to the surface.   Seeing our sin, our fraility, our gaps was what we wanted, but oh so painful.  In the process, we began to see how very weary we really were.

At weekly marriage counseling, we explored this weariness and the deep causes of it.  We discussed the need for rest, for placing our burdens on Christ, for taking every extraneous thing out of our schedule for the purpose of connecting with God, connecting with each other, and connecting with our children.  And then, my husband made the very innocent comment, “I wonder whether you can get this rest and keep on homeschooling.”

My heart clenched.  My fingers wrapped tightly around this decision we had made years ago.  I remembered a conversation we had  once when we were facing financial pressures.  We had agreed that we would sell our house rather than give up homeschooling.  We have LOVED what homeschooling has done for our family.  We know our kids.  They know each other.  Before Sara Maria entered Covenant in 10th grade and Grace started at PVCC, we had flexibility.  We have been able to teach what we wanted to teach in the way we wanted to teach it.

Not this.   This is untouchable.  My heart grabbed.  My fists squeezed tight.  I held my breath.  And I knew, I just knew … this was NOT where God would lead.

(To be continued)

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Camp, Camp, and More Camp (Part 2)

This morning, our boys woke up in a cabin at  Summer’s Best Two Weeks, however, for them, it’s not SB2W, but SB8D, Summer’s Best Eight Days.  I’m already missing them, as is Katya who is longing for a buddy to explore the creek.

But while they’re gone, the females of the family + Bill, the CMG, will be planning for COUSIN CAMP!  Ann, who was one of the amazing women who showed me Jesus at Camp Seafarer and then became my roommate my last year in college, is now known by my kids as AUNT ANN.  That’s right, Ann and Bill are brother and sister, and she is still one of my dear friends.  :)  So, we have four of her fabulous kids coming for a week of Cousin Camp! Sally, Matt, Anna, and Molly … we are EXCITED!

As the summer progresses, you’ll hear about  Compass, VBS, the Annie Moses Band Fine Arts Summer Academy, summer school, P31 She Speaks, wrapped up with our yearly trip to the beach …

Our Ultimate Swagger Wagon will put on some mileage this summer, and although the calendar looks full, our prayer is that these activities will be used by the Lord to grow our kiddoes in various skill areas, place them in situations where they’ll have to exercise dependence on the Lord, extend their understanding of the gospel, and ultimately give them deeper passion and greater vision for what the Lord is doing in their hearts and in the world.

What’s your family doing this summer?  How are you hoping the Lord will use your plans to advance His kingdom in you and through you?

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Camp, Camp, and More Camp (Part 1)

Camp holds a prominent place in our family history.  During the summers of my college years, I was most often at Camp Seafarer.  Growing up  in New Bern, NC,  I had looked longingly at this camp but I went to Camp Don Lee.   I loved my time at Don Lee, but once every week we would walk through the neighboring Camp Sea Gull, brother camp to Seafarer, to go shark tooth hunting.  Their pristine cabins, manicured grass, thousands of colorful sails bobbing in the Neuse River, motorboats zipping around in a circle … it all looked so inviting.  So, when I was contemplating what to do during the summer after my freshman year, I thought, “Seafarer!”

Sailing staff one year, and then after that I was an Assistant Head Counselor to one of my still best buddies, Carolyn.

Cindy,Carolyn,Joanna Seafarer

What a summer that was!  I had come off a horrific junior year full of bad decisions and truly was at the end of myself.  Too proud to let anyone see my doubts, insecurities, and fears, I jumped into camp and kept my real heart hidden.  But, Carolyn and others loved me, and most importantly showed me Christ.  They didn’t preach to me.  Because of my “southern good girl” exterior, they, in all likelihood assumed that I was a Christian, just a very young Christian.  They didn’t say much of anything to me about Jesus, they just showed Him to me.

I went to my first-ever Bible study.  Fitting in was SO important to me so I took my Bible with me, a white leather-ish King James with my full name engraved in the bottom right corner.  I had received it at my confirmation when I was 12 and it was the only Bible I had.  This was a Bible study, right?  But I wasn’t sure whether you were supposed to bring a BIBLE.  My thoughts were, “Maybe, if you really know the Bible, you don’t have to take it.”  So, I was prepared to ditch it on the way if it became apparent that other people didn’t have a Bible.  My biggest fear was that someone would ask me to look up a verse and I would have to turn to the Table of Contents to find it.  As I approached the open-air hut, I saw that the gals and GUY had Bibles with them, so I brought mine on in.  The GUY seemed to be leading, so I just kind of sat down.  He gave the chapter and verse and I astutely, nonchalantly looked around to see about where other people were turning.  Casually I flipped toward the back until I found it … 1 Corinthians 13.

Love.  We were talking about love.

Now, this GUY was cute.  I remembered the first time I had ever laid eyes on him.  He was in Motorboating talking on the phone.  For some of you this is shocking, but the phone was attached to the wall with a CORD.  He really was tethered to the phone, right in the doorway looking out over the river.  I remember walking by him and thinking, “He’s cute.”

So, Cute Motorboating Guy was leading a Bible study on love.  “This isn’t so bad, I thought.”  Now, he really was talking about Jesus’s love for us and how through Jesus, we can love each other with patience, kindness … Not too bad.  I liked this.  After Bible study, CMG asked me to for a walk on the pier, so we did.  I don’t know what we talked about, but the stars were out, the water was shining in the moonlight, waves were lapping the shore.  This was pretty good.  All we did was walk and talk, but God used that night to broaden my understanding of Him from a “way up high kind of God who is just waiting to punish me,” to someone who is still really “way up high,” but also really loves me and showed me so through the death of His Son on the cross.

During that summer, my heart was touched by the real love I saw in the girls around me.  CMG and I stayed friends, and I went back to school that fall.  That semester as a Young Life LEADER (another story) I heard the reality of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection in a way that I had begun to hear, see, and experience that summer.  I heard it in a way that connected with me, met me in my need, and created a hunger in my heart to whole-heartedly pursue Jesus.  That Christmas I wrote in my journal, “I know why my life has been so messed up.  I’ve been at the center.  Jesus, now I want you at the center.”

Back to Seafarer for an amazing summer as a Head Counselor along with three other amazing women, Carolyn, Ann, and Harriet.  Carolyn, Ann, and I became roommates the next year.  And, as for CMG, I married him a few years later.  :)

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Friday Night = Family Night

Adopting from Ukraine is HARD.

And it takes a LONG TIME.

Not only stateside working on paperwork, but you can count on ~ 7 weeks IN COUNTRY, if not longer.

Being separated from the six while going after the seventh was UNDOUBTEDLY the hardest part of the whole thing.

Even now it can bring tears to my eyes to remember how my heart ached being separated from them all.

Just over a week into our trip, I got this email from one of my daughters:

I just wanted to fill you in on what happened to Piper. I am not sure how much you know so I will just tell you everything. Piper was carrying some hot tea over to the sink and it slipped out of her hands and splashed on her. It burned away some of the skin and continued to burn it away as we put cold water on it and called the doctor. Piper was in a fair amount of pain but handled it very bravely. The doctor said to go ahead and take her into the ER. We wrapped her arm in plastic wrap and Mrs. M. whisked her away to the hospital. The pain increased as they made their way to the hospital but they were not supposed to put ice on it because the doctor said that it would cause more pain in the long term. We called the ER and warned them that they were on their way and thanks to that, they were seen amazingly quickly. (Thank you God!) TPlease keep her in your prayers. (especially that the pain would ease and she would stop shaking) I love you and please don’t worry. 😉

PLEASE DON’T WORRY!  Notice her winking smiley face.  She knows that with this email, that exhortation is absolutely pointless.

I agonized over that email, the pictures that came, the separation from them all, my inability to physically protect ANY of them.  Again and again I flung myself on my bedrock belief that …

God is GOOD

AND

God is SOVEREIGN.

When the separation got so bad that all I could do was curl up in fetal position, cry, and pray … I rested on my confidence in the reality of this childhood song

Jesus loves me this I know

For the Bible tells me so.

Little ones to HIM belong

They are weak and He is strong.

Jesus loves ME.  My children belong to HIM.  We are all absolutely helpless.  But He is, indeed, absolutely strong.

Yes, Jesus loves me

Yes, Jesus loves me

Yes, Jesus loves me

The Bible tells me so.

He loves me.  And He loves my children.  And even when every circumstance around me tells me otherwise … even when more than anything I want to tuck them in bed, kiss them, pray for them, sing to them … and, I can’t.  The Bible tells me in a million different stories … He loves us.

And I believe it.  I believed it as I cried myself to sleep.  I believed it when we hit roadblocks.  And I chose to believe it when that enemy who seeks to steal, kill, and destroy whispered lies in my ear.  “You’re a bad mom.”  “You left your children.”  “You think you heard God’s voice, but you didn’t.”

With the help of my husband, I didn’t listen to the lies, but trusted that we HAD heard.

So, with aching hearts, we stayed in Ukraine.  Bill and I, we went after the seventh.  And by God’s grace, on November 18th we brought her home.

But, there was cost.

There was cost to our family connectedness.  There was cost to our marriage.  There was cost to our church.  There was cost to each one of our children.

Shortly after Christmas we began Friday Night Family Nights.  Along with our Date Night, we began to protect this night, plan for it, guard it.  Since January, we have moved Family Night to Saturday night once, but other than that, I think we haven’t missed a one.

And, it’s been good.

We’ve watched movies,  played Twister, watched movies, made s’mores, watched movies, gone to see Sara Maria in Seussical, watched movies, written letters, and watched movies.  Do you see a theme here?  The point is that it doesn’t have to be that big of a deal.  But what Family Night has done for us is give us a regular UNTOUCHABLE time of connection.  ALL the kids, including Katya, look forward to Family Night.

A kid-friendly dinner, followed by a FUN dessert, ending with some activity – that’s the extent of it.

After the deep pain of weeks of separation, we needed connection.  Badly.

Many of you already have regular Family Nights.  I’d love to learn from you.  How did you get started?  What do you do?  Others of you need to work this into your schedule.  If this is you … if you’d like to start Family Night but don’t know how, I’d love to come alongside you.  I’d love to pray for you, hear your story, encourage you if I can.  Leave me a comment and I’ll email you.  Really.

You may not have come through a grueling adoption the way that we did, but your family needs Family Night just as much as ours does.  You need this regular APPOINTED time of connection.  If your kids are little, start NOW.  Don’t wait until their older.  Build it into the fabric of your family life NOW.  If your kids are older, it’s not too late to start.  It’s really not.

For us, tonight was Dominoe’s Pizza, Banana Splits, and Britain’s Got Talent followed by Monster’s Inc.  Not too hard.

And … Piper healed beautifully.  Unbelievably beautifully.  So much pain.  And yet the Lord healed her.  In healing her, He gave me hope.  Not only hope that He is the healer of bodies and burns, but of broken hearts and lives.