cassiehammett – Page 3 – CassieHammett

Sep 06 2017

The Cut

By cassiehammett | Life, Uncategorized

thecut

It was the big day.

I had practiced, stretched, learned the routine forward and backward.

I was ready.

As ready as an awkward chubby little 5th grader can feel on the day of cheerleading try-outs.

It was on. I was confident.

Overly confident.

My mom tore a hole in the paper that covered the window where the try outs would happen so she could watch me do my thang. What a good mama. She wanted to watch on as I razzled-and-dazzled those judges.

I remember standing at the door waiting on them to call my name.

And then, they did.

It was all the “woos” and cart wheels and round offs and spirit fingers. I did my entire routine without even taking a breath. Adrenaline was pumping. I smiled at the judges, maybe even gave a little wink.

I watched their faces as I performed looking for their shock-and-awe over my obvious cheerleader-in-my-DNA skill that was on display for them.

I crushed it.

So you can understand my absolute and utter dismay over walking up to the posted list of new cheerleaders for the school year and not seeing my name.

I could not understand this. There was no explanation.

Until my mom sat me down and gave me the very clear explanation.

I had done my ENTIRE TRY OUT backwards that day.

BACKWARDS.

Back to the judges, facing away from them.

How you ask? How could I be fully convinced I was staring at them, and winking and doing all the grinning?

Mirrors.

In all my “woos” and spirit fingers and cartwheels and round-offs I had gotten turned around backwards.

I could see the judges…

In the mirror.

I remember replaying the entire thing in my mind in a complete shock-and-awe of my own.

I can’t imagine how those sweet judges didn’t fall out of their chairs laughing as I COMPLETELY HAMMED IT UP AND WINKED AT THEM AND CONFIDENTLY RALLIED ALL THE WAY BACKWARDS THE ENTIRE TIME.

Bless it Jesus. Bless my heart to the moon and back a thousand times.

Needless to say, I did not make the cut.

Shocker.

How often do we determine that we don’t make the cut?

How often do we disqualify ourselves?

When Jesus begs us to follow Him, how often do we replay our mistakes and sin, our brokenness and ugliness, over and over again in our mind in complete embarrassment and shame?

How many times do we leave the presence of God determining that we’re not good enough, not clean enough, not equipped, not capable, not lovable?

All this talk about changing the world, impacting lives, being a true follower of Jesus, that’s for the rest of the group that surely has it together more than you do.

“I am not worthy, I am too jacked up, too messy, too new to this faith thing. I’m not qualified, not disciplined enough, not good enough.”

Well friend. Jesus has an answer to this.

His disciples, you know the 12 dudes He chose to change the entire world, will put these lies to rest.

Did you know that in Jesus’s time, He was not the only rabbi? (I did not know this)

Rabbis were religious teachers and young jewish boys dreamed of following a rabbi. It was the ultimate achievement.

They would study their entire early lives, memorize the Torah (first 5 books of the Bible) forward and backward. They would study that rabbi’s teaching so much that they could quote it verbatim.

Then, as pre-teens they would appear before their rabbi of choice and they would essentially “try out” to be a follower.

They would strut their stuff, show their knowledge and eloquently present themselves as the best follower this rabbi would ever have. They would put on display their follower-in-my-DNA skills and pray that they did enough.

If they were chosen they could then follow that rabbi. Only the best of the best made the cut. No performing backwards allowed in this arena.

If they weren’t chosen, if they didn’t make the cut, they would head into the world and work a family trade, like fishing or tent making.

The cream of the crop would follow their rabbi. The not-so-cream-of-the-crop would fish.

“Walking along the beach of Lake Galilee, Jesus saw two brothers: Simon (later called Peter) and Andrew. They were fishing, throwing their nets into the lake. It was their regular work. Jesus said to them, “Come with me. I’ll make a new kind of fisherman out of you. I’ll show you how to catch men and women instead of perch and bass.” They didn’t ask questions, but simply dropped their nets and followed.” Matthew 4:18-22 (MSG)

The first disciples that Jesus called were fishermen. It was their regular work.

What does that mean?

It means that they more than likely didn’t make the cut. They had resigned to a trade.

They weren’t the elite, the best, the brightest.

But they were Jesus’s choice.

Jesus, the only Rabbi that truly mattered, the savior of the entire world, God-wrapped-in-flesh, set his sights on those fishermen.

They were His choice because it would be nothing of their merit that would change the world. It would be Jesus who would, through them, rock the boat with an offensively radical love.

He chose to use the ones that didn’t make the cut.

He could have chosen anyone, and He chose them.

He chose them because He wanted them to be like Him. Not know about him, or know of Him, not work for him or learn from him…but be LIKE Him. He believed that they could.

You, friend, are His choice. He has chosen you.

You are qualified simply because He has called you.

He believes that you can be like Him.

He delights in choosing the weak, the broken, the jacked up, because through them He gets the ultimate glory. Where we are weak, He shines all the brighter.

He desires vessels that need to be filled with Him to be of any worth.

He loves to use the rag-tags. I know this because He has used me.

So stop asking questions, stop making excuses, stop disqualifying yourself.

Drop your nets, the things that remind you that you’re not good enough, that you don’t make the cut, and follow Him.

You are His choice, friend.

What an honor to follow a Rabbi like that?

Read more about disciples and Jesus at That the World May Know Ministries:

https://www.thattheworldmayknow.com/rabbi-and-talmidim

Aug 31 2017

Sparkly Pizza

By cassiehammett | Family, Uncategorized

Sparkly Pizza

Brent: “Hey buddy, how was your day at school today?”

Liv: “Well I know one thing, I’m not ever wearing this again.”

Brent: “Why? It’s a cute dress.”

Let me pause and describe this dress. There’s a new fangled technology that has come onto the fashion scene involving sparklysequins sewn on to a garment, and if you rub them up the garment has one picture on it, then if you rub them down the picture on the garment changes.

I know. Mind blowing. I would have been ALL.OVER.THIS. as a pre-teen. Magic picture sequins right on the front of my shirt. I am here for it.

I found one such hi-tech garment for Liv. Rub the sequins up one way and it’s a slice of pizza. Rub them down it turns into a megaphone with “Be Kind” written on it.

Totally cool right?

Wrong.

Cut back to the conversation between my little brown one and her Papa after school last week.

Liv: “Well Papa. All my friends got frowny-faces on their behavior charts because they were rubbin’ up trying to change my pizza and not paying attention to the teacher”

All. the. LOLs.

Her friends were rubbin’ up on her pizza tryin’ to change it.

Brent: “Well buddy. What were you doing? Were you playing with it too?”

Liv: “No Papa. I was just doing this.” And she blank stared straight forward, with dead eyes, staring into space. I could totally picture her trying to not have a meltdown as all the hands rubbed her pizza as she tried her hardest to focus on the teacher.

She hated it.

Not only were her friends rubbing up and down on her chest (which is why I have chosen she will never wear it again because…that’s just too much to imagine), but Liv’s biggest issue was that she was the cause of their behavior downfall.

They would have to show their mamas and papas a frowny-face on the behavior chart.

She felt the weight of being the problem, of being the distraction.

And she was not going to do that again.

So the dress came off and was rotated to the back of the closet.

No more sparkly pizzas for her.

Friends.

Do you feel like you are constantly battling the sparkly pizzas of life?

The bright shiny unimportant things that threaten to drag your attention away from the main thing and onto them instead.

I am so prone to chasing after shiny sequins that catch my eye.

I’m not just talking about the mundane everyday kind of ways that distraction creeps in: checking social media, picking up a few hundred extra things at Target because they were in my line of sight, daydreaming instead of replying to the 1,000 emails that rest in my inbox.

Those are everyday occurrences for me. I am naturally easily distracted.
(If you know me well you’re saying ‘Yes, Amen…she is’)

But in this season of life, I have become keenly aware that distraction is a major enemy of mine.

It’s subtle and quiet and non-threatening.

But its effects can be devastating.

I’m talking about a deeper distraction. The distraction of my heart.

Here’s the thing:

The only thing that matters, at all, ever in life, is Jesus.

His Words, His commands, His example; and that all of Him intersects with me, making my life a giant living and breathing declaration of His glory.

That’s it. That’s the main thing.

Him, all of Him and Me displaying all of Him.

It’s so simple and overly religious sounding, but it’s the straight up truth.

But, oh how quickly the eyes of my heart can dart away and catch a glimpse of something that robs me of time, energy, focus, vision, and clarity:

comparison, worry/anxiety, stress, desire to please people, approval of people, pride, ministry, work, material possessions, physical appearance, success….

There’s more…I promise…but you get the picture.

These things, not all terrible in themselves, sneak in so quietly with their shiny-sparkly -sequin selves and quietly begin to fight for a very valuable thing: my attention.

It is a fight to keep the main thing the main thing. To keep Jesus in front of my eyes as my lens of life.

It is hard to stare straight forward, right at Him; not allowing the obvious pushing and pulling of distraction to take us from what He has for us.

I love the simple and shockingly straight forward story of Martha and Mary.

“As they continued their travel, Jesus entered a village. A woman by the name of Martha welcomed him and made him feel quite at home. She had a sister, Mary, who sat before the Master, hanging on every word he said. But Martha was pulled away by all she had to do in the kitchen. Later, she stepped in, interrupting them. “Master, don’t you care that my sister has abandoned the kitchen to me? Tell her to lend me a hand.”

The Master said, “Martha, dear Martha, you’re fussing far too much and getting yourself worked up over nothing. One thing only is essential, and Mary has chosen it—it’s the main course, and won’t be taken from her.”
Luke 10:38-42

It’s the main course.

The rest is just fluff, important and good work, maybe, but not the main course.

Let’s fight to keep our eyes on Him and allow His presence to be the thing that sheds light on every area of our life.

Let’s keep our eyes straight forward, paying no attention to the sparkly pizza begging to get us off track.

Let’s fix our eyes, the eyes of our heart, on Jesus….He is all that matters.

What does this look like practically?

Here’s some ways to put this in practice:

Looking to the Word of God for answers on the big questions in our lives, instead of google, our friends or our own knowledge. What does He say about this?
Understanding where our identity is rooted. Who are we really? That way when the wishy-washy waves of public approval or friendship woes hit, we aren’t taken out at the knees, but instead can stand on the steady ground of knowing who we are as we face these bound-to-happen hiccups head on.
What’s the most redemptive-Gospel centered way to spend my money?
What does Jesus say about material possessions?
When the enemy attacks, what are the weapons Jesus has given me to fight with?
When I get frustrated with my kids, what is the most Jesus-like way to respond?

And on and on…etc.

Centering on Jesus, refocusing by asking Him, consulting His word.

It is absolutely possible for Him to be the grid for everything.

Jesus isn’t just in the spiritual…he longs to be in it all: the practical, the emotional, the financial…all of it.

What about you? What distracts you the most? How do you battle distraction?

(Leave your answers in the comments)

Aug 16 2017

Love One AND the Other.

By cassiehammett | The Hub

sad liv

Sandra and I met under a bridge. She was homeless, dirty, drunk and angry. So naturally I decided that we would be best friends…against her consent of course.

Ours is a friendship of many years…most of which have been a roller coaster of emotions, ups and downs of trust, blow up fights where she cussed me up one side and down the other, using words I’d never heard and had to google…times that I let her down, disappointed her and broke her trust.

There have been countless middle of the night ER visits, countless drunk dials, phone calls when she was tripping so hard she couldn’t stop screaming and hallucinating.

So as you can see….sturdy friendship…solid ground. She truly has given me the run for my money on this whole love-the-broken situation. It’s all easy and nod-your-head-in-church feel good stuff until the person you are trying to love spits in your face….

No like for real….. she did. Actual human spit. It was fun.

But still. I loved her. And this isn’t a toot-my-own-horn kind of love…this was a JESUS MET ME IN THE MOMENTS AND GAVE ME THE ABILITY AND DESIRE TO LOVE HER. Without His intervention I would have turned around and hauled tail as fast as I could to get away from her.

Did you know that loving your neighbor is actually quite hard? It takes sacrifice…but most of all it takes HIM. That’s how he designed it. If we do it right…we will HAVE to come running back to Him for the ability to do it.

One afternoon I saw that I had a voicemail from Sandra on my phone. So I pushed play and held the phone to my ear, quickly realizing that she had butt dialed me and had no idea she was leaving me a message.

I laughed to myself and started to move the phone from my ear when I heard my name come out of her mouth. And my jaw immediately dropped as I heard her spewing the most hateful words about me to whoever was listening. I’m talking mean-as-a-snake type of words…words that I began to feel physically…with every word I felt the blow.

But she didn’t stop at me.

“And do you know what she’s doing? She’s adopting a baby…. yeah that’s right. She doesn’t want her own…so she’s gonna pay a bunch of money for a *%$& black baby…a &%*& (insert n word). She’s gonna go all the way to Africa and bring back a black baby….what the *&%^ would make a person want to do that….”

And so on and so on. You get the picture.

The gloves were off now. It’s one thing to talk about me…but it’s a whole other thing to talk about my little one…the one who at the time I had not held yet, the one who was still wasting away in an orphanage in Africa…the one who I begged God to bring home every single day.

And to hear her unfiltered view of things, deeply painful.

A rage I had never felt before rose up inside of me. I pulled over the car and put my head on the steering wheel and began to weep. That was it. I couldn’t and wouldn’t do it anymore. She was just too much…and this was just too much. How could I ever love someone through this offense? And she didn’t even know I knew. I would not do it anymore…no more time, no more energy wasted on her. I was done. She had done the thing that pushed me over the line of willingness.

I had tried. Wasn’t that enough. But this was my stop….I would be getting off the love-thy-neighbor train right here.

In an instant, as those words crossed my heart… I felt the Spirit of God so strongly.

And what I wanted was a pat on the back and a “good try” chat with the Lord.

But what I got instead was an immediate, overwhelming, burning love for her.
Stronger than before. I knew it was Him…it couldn’t have been me.

I loved her so fiercely in that moment…and I knew that I in fact was being called to love her now more than ever before. That this act of hate towards my own could not be the end of my love but the beginning of the rubber hitting the road, me actually learning how powerful grace is when it’s extended. If grace were only for those who made us comfortable and never offended us…it wouldn’t be so radical.

And so, that’s what I did. Not because I wanted to, but because I was called to.
And that’s what I’ve done for the 5 years since that voicemail.

Was it hard? Yes. Did it get easier? No.

Did she apologize? No. Did I tell her I knew? No.

But even with all of that…did the command change? No.

Love thy neighbor as thyself.

I was driving down the road when Sandra stepped off the curb waving her arms, flagging me down. I hadn’t seen her in a long time, so I was honestly thrilled that she was even alive.

I pulled into a parking lot so we could talk. We caught up on her life and what had been going on, what she needed and some of the things she was struggling with.

As I got in my car to leave, she came up to the window with tears in her eyes. I could tell she wanted, needed, to tell me something.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

“You see that girl over there?” and she pointed to an African American woman waiting on the bus.

“Yes. What about her,” I asked?

“She’s one of my best friends.”

“Well that’s great. Glad you have found a friend,” I responded, kind of lost for what she was getting at.

“Can I tell you something,” she continued,

“I used to be really racist, like really bad. I hated black people. I didn’t want anything to do with them.”

Shocker. I thought. My mind immediately was flooded with the memory of that voicemail.

“But…,” she began to sob, “when I met Liv and saw how you loved her…I changed. Liv made me think about race and made me have to change. I love Liv so much. So, thank you for adopting her, because I’m not racist anymore because of her life.”

And with that she raced to catch the bus with her bestie…that beautiful brown skinned bestie that Liv’s life paved the way for.

It’s easy to love people who love you back.
It’s easy to love people who believe what you do.
It’s hard to love your enemy.
It’s hard to love someone who hates others.

But easy and hard aren’t part of the equation when it comes to the love of God.

We can not love the one and not the other.

We can’t love and cover and protect the one who is a target of hate or harm…and not love the one causing the harm, or spewing the hate. No where in God’s word does it give us an out… in fact it says the opposite:

“But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you…”
Matthew 5:44

But it also says this:

“Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed.
Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.” Isaiah 1:17

It’s a BOTH / AND situation in the Kingdom of God.

Stand up for the oppressed, defend those being harmed, speak up for those without a voice…don’t back down from racism…take a stand.

But not in a way that isolates and labels the “other side” not worthy of our love.

Because it’s not our love that we’re offering anyways…it’s His. And as far as He’s concerned none of us are truly worthy of it…but because of His great riches of mercy He has called us worthy.

Those who’s lives are plagued with racism are groping around in their own sort of spiritual oppression…hate and bitterness and un-forgiveness.

Straight brokenness, they’re drowning in it.

And how will they ever find the surface of that oppression, come up for air, unless we, the hands and feet of Jesus, take them by the hand and show them a better way? A way to love all people….because in our loving them, we are actually showing them that all people do deserve love.

What if, by bringing those who hate into the sharp focus of our love, they lay down that hate and learn to love…because they have been loved?

What if, church, instead of linking arms with each other and keeping them out because of their hate….we give them a place at our table. What if we model, through our life, what it looks like to accept and welcome…everyone…no matter the color of our skin.

What if the battle against racism won’t be won on Facebook? What if the victory won’t come through arguments and taking sides?

What if love across all lines is the actual answer.

It is.

Not condoning. Not justifying their hate. Not even leaving room for it.

Simply recognizing that brokenness is brokenness in God’s economy. It’s all sin.

And everyone is our neighbor.

So when Jesus calls us to love our neighbor…if our neighbor is racist or whatever long list of reasons we could come up with to not extend the same amount of grace we’ve been given… the command doesn’t change.

Is it hard? Yes. Is it a grit your teeth kind of process? Yes.

Will it cause you to crawl back to His feet day after day, conversation after conversation…begging Him for the ability to love the person who hates?

Yes.

And that’s just how He wants it.

Disclaimer:

I understand that this topic is hard for some (should be for all) and very polarizing.

But as the mama of a brown skinned one, I feel that I have a responsibility to be a part of the conversation.

I have been shattered over the news the last week. Broken in a way that feels raw and personal.

I ache and grieve over the world that we live in.

I ache and grieve that my little one will face and battle race and prejudice and privilege, that she will have to overcome assumptions and other people’s personal racial baggage in order to have the same opportunities as everyone else.

That may be hard to read, but it’s true.

Racism is directly opposed to the heart of God, who created ALL in His image.

To hate one race is to hate something God created to reflect Him.

You do the math.

You don’t want to get caught on the other side of that equal sign.

BUT… when you take anger and hurt over racism to Jesus He does not give a green light for you to return the favor, to get the right to hate right back.

And as hard as it is, I know that when I go to Him and ask Him what He thinks about these things we’re seeing, the white supremacy, the violence, the display of absolute brokenness that we’re witnessing, I am immediately aware that they too, those who are steering the ship of this devastation, are made in the image of God.

They are His kids just as much as my black daughter is.

So, I guess my disclaimer is that these words were just as hard for me to believe and digest and decide to follow as they were to write them.

But I can’t escape the truth of God’s heart, and don’t want to be caught on the other side of that equation either.

Phew, let’s lighten the mood a tad.

Just for funsies… here’s a list of funny, weird and slightly offensive comments I have received as the mama of a beautiful brown skinned darling:

Once in a store, when Liv was fresh from Africa ,tiny baby on my hip a woman approached Brent and I and said, “Awww….is she y’all’s ?” to which I replied simply, “Yes she is.” She looked me up and down and said, “Girl….you sure did lose that baby weight quick.” I looked at Brent, my tall drink of VERY WHITE fine and looked at Liv and just smiled at her and said, “Thank you.” (Ma’am. You must be implying only one thing has happened here….that I was unfaithful with a VERY dark skinned individual.)
Do you have any real kids? (as opposed to this robot one I have right here)
Is she yours? (this one gets us in all types of trouble especially if the husband is
answering…he is known to reply .. “Oh no…we just found her outside do you know
who she belongs to…all the eye rolls and apologies.)
Once a slightly drunk middle aged woman asked us “So what…are y’all trying to be
the next Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt or something)
How much did she cost? Come on people…I know what you’re asking but choose better words.
What if she wants to date black boys? hahahaha this one is just too much for me to even comment…isn’t that hysterical?

Aug 09 2017

Rock Paper Scissors

By cassiehammett | Adoption, Family, Quotes, Uncategorized

“It’s night-night time Esther.” I say to her as I lay her down OVER and OVER and OVER again.

She doesn’t seem to quite grasp that “it’s night-night time” actually means LAY DOWN, CLOSE YOUR EYES AND GO TO SLEEP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

We’re convinced that our little E has selective language knowledge, that when we are telling her something she absolutely does not want to do, she looks at us like “sorry guys…no speak English.” (Which she doesn’t…but still. Seems like a cheap excuse to me when I know if I offered her ice cream she’d be full on American to get it, with full knowledge of the webster’s dictionary)

One particular night I laid her down and said, “Night-night Esther, lay down.”

She laid down and popped right up.

She raised her eyebrows in a question and slowly did the sign for “eat”….her face one big question mark. (sign language is our mode of communication right now)

“No mam, lay down.”

She laid down.

Popped up. Eyebrows up, question mark face, she emphatically did the sign for “drink”.

“No mam, lay down, it’s night-night time.”

Laid down.

Popped up.

Eye brows up, asking a big ole question, she subtly pointed to the door and leaned towards it…as if to say “let’s get out of here, what’cha think”.

Jesus take the wheel and give me grace.

“No ma’am Esther. Mama is in charge. Lay down.”

She huffed and laid that sweet head down.

Popped up.

Signed “purse”.

You guys…she asked for her dang purse.

I laid my head down on the bed and found the depths of my mercy.

“No purse. It’s time for night-night. Lay down right now.”

She was not happy about this. She slammed herself down.

Popped up. She’s angry signing now.

“Back-pack?”

“Baby?”

All the signs for all the words she knows.

And over and over again I said NO MA’AM and laid her down.

She laid still for a minute and I felt the rise of victory. I had won this battle.

Nope.

She popped up.

“Itsy-Bitsy spider”….yes she has a sign for this.

I felt the laughter rising as I watched the amount of desperation in this stall tactic. I also knew we were coming up on the bottom of her vocabulary if we were grasping for the itsy-bitsy spider straw.

“LAY DOWN.” I said in my mama voice.

This was it. I couldn’t think of one more sign that she knew. I patted her back and a minute passed.

But then…my little chinese-one popped her whole body up and with VERY RAISED EYEBROWS SIGNED THIS NEXT QUESTION:

“Rock-paper-scissors?”

Let me explain. She literally sat up, held her hand out and hit it with her fist three times, displaying that her choice for this round was paper.

I was astounded. How on God’s green did she even know what this meant?

Laughter took control of me and I found myself playing a round. She won.

Rock beat scissors.

Esther beat night-night time.

The bush was burning, a bright, hot red as Moses stood, bare feet on the dirt, undone by what He was seeing.

God’s glory, burning in that bush. He had shown up and had something major to say to Moses.

He had his full attention.

God lays it all out for him. He tells Moses He has seen the suffering and affliction of His people, the Israelites, at the hands of Pharaoh. He has watched them dying under the weight of slavery and He is ready to step in…ready for it to end.

He has planned their rescue. And He has chosen Moses to lead them to freedom.

“Come, I will send you to Pharaoh that you may bring my people, the children of Israel, out of Egypt.”

And here we see Moses, trembling in his bare-feet, standing before the ACTUAL GLORY OF GOD that is burning but somehow not consuming the bush, try all of his stall tactics.

With raised eyebrows…begging the next questions, he begins his attempts to get out of this assignment that’s just been handed to him.

WHY ME?? I’m not qualified.
“Moses answered God, “But why me? What makes you think that I could ever go to Pharaoh and lead the children of Israel out of Egypt?” (Exodus 3:11)

I don’t know enough. I’m not equipped.
Then Moses said to God, “Suppose I go to the People of Israel and I tell them, ‘The God of your fathers sent me to you’; and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ What do I tell them?” (Exodus 3:13)

No one will believe that God could use me.
“Moses objected, “They won’t trust me. They won’t listen to a word I say. They’re going to say, ‘God? Appear to him? Hardly!’” (Exodus 4:1)

This is not my calling. I lack the ability to do what you’re asking me.
“Moses raised another objection to God: “Master, please, I don’t talk well. I’ve never been good with words, neither before nor after you spoke to me. I stutter and stammer.” (Exodus 4:10)

And with one last grand gesturing attempt:

Find someone else. Surely there’s someone better.
“He said, “Oh, Master, please! Send somebody else!” (Exodus 4:13)

Man. We serve a kind God don’t we?

He shows up in our lives OBVIOUSLY, like in a burning bush, showing His undeniable power and gives us the gift of the very task that He has wired us for.

And what do we do?

We come up with a thousand excuses for why we can’t or won’t do it.

Stalling. Redirecting attention. Pitching better ideas to God than the one He has just landed on our hearts.

His kindness is shown in His answers to our back-and-forth questioning of HIS design.

He has an answer for our every. single. excuse, fear or justification for not doing what He has clearly called us to.

WHY ME?? I’m not qualified.

“I’ll be with you,” God said.

He is qualified and He is with us.

I don’t know enough. I’m not equipped.

“God said to Moses, “I-AM-WHO-I-AM. Tell the People of Israel, ‘I-AM sent me to you.’”
God continued with Moses: “This is what you’re to say to the Israelites: ‘God, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob sent me to you.’ This has always been my name, and this is how I always will be known.”

His name is the answer. It’s all we need to know. He defines it all.

No one will believe that God could use me.

So God said, “What’s that in your hand?”
“A staff.”
“Throw it on the ground.” He threw it. It became a snake; Moses jumped back—fast!
God said to Moses, “Reach out and grab it by the tail.” He reached out and grabbed it—and he was holding his staff again. “That’s so they will trust that Godappeared to you, the God of their fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.”

God then said, “Put your hand inside your shirt.” He slipped his hand under his shirt, then took it out. His hand had turned leprous, like snow.
He said, “Put your hand back under your shirt.” He did it, then took it back out—as healthy as before.

“So if they don’t trust you and aren’t convinced by the first sign, the second sign should do it.

But if it doesn’t, if even after these two signs they don’t trust you and listen to your message, take some water out of the Nile and pour it out on the dry land; the Nile water that you pour out will turn to blood when it hits the ground.”

It is God who will do things through us that only He could do. His abilities in place of our inabilities will be what displays His power.

This is not my calling. I lack the ability to do what you’re asking me.

“God said, “And who do you think made the human mouth? And who makes some mute, some deaf, some sighted, some blind? Isn’t it I, God? So, get going. I’ll be right there with you—with your mouth! I’ll be right there to teach you what to say.”

He made the very things He will use in us. They are His. He’s with us in every way.

Find someone else. Surely there’s someone better.

“God got angry with Moses: “Don’t you have a brother, Aaron the Levite? He’s good with words, I know he is. He speaks very well. In fact, at this very moment he’s on his way to meet you. When he sees you he’s going to be glad. You’ll speak to him and tell him what to say. I’ll be right there with you as you speak and with him as he speaks, teaching you step by step. He will speak to the people for you. He’ll act as your mouth, but you’ll decide what comes out of it. Now take this staff in your hand; you’ll use it to do the signs.”

He will provide ever single thing we need to achieve His call on our lives. He will teach us step by step. We don’t have to be experts to start.

Friend. Are you playing rock paper scissors with God over something He’s clearly asking you to do?

Do you have a ton of other suggestions, trying to redirect the attention away from that very BIG, maybe hard thing that God has landed square in front of your heart?

Do you believe deep down the things that Moses did?
That you are inadequate, ill-equipped, a bumbling idiot, not the right person?

Take a deep breath of relief, because if these things were true, He would not have called you to it.

Is God asking you to close a door? Walk away from a relationship? End a season?

Has he handed you a risky, larger-than-you task?

Has he called you to love your neighbor? Start a movement? Fight for justice? Lead a family member to Jesus?

You are the one He has hand picked to do this very thing. He has designed every part of you to be able to carry it, to do it, to have victory in it, to see it to the finish.

When you look at the life of Moses you see one thing:

His obedience DIRECTLY affected the freedom of someone else, a bunch of someone- elses actually. An entire nation experienced freedom because He took those first
barefoot steps.

Your obedience to the thing that you’re staring at will DIRECTLY affect the lives of others. That’s how Jesus works.

He calls us to do hard things and then uses those hard things to set others free.

Let’s throw in our towel and our long lists of excuses and just take a step towards the call on our lives.

He made you. He’s with you. He’s able. He’s equipped. He has the answers.

He has chosen you.

On purpose.

Let Jesus win this one.

Jul 27 2017

The hands…they are to blame.

By cassiehammett | Family, Uncategorized

One of the last days of school my little love’s teacher came out to the car and asked, “Did you see the note that came home with Liv yesterday?”

I looked back at Liv, sitting too quietly in the back…she wouldn’t make eye contact.

“No ma’am I didn’t.” I responded back. Knowing that the reason I hadn’t was that the little rascal in the back had conveniently lost it. People…it starts young.

“Well…” her teacher said, trying to hold back a giggle.

“Text me when you find it,” and she winked.

Oh george.

I dug around and found the note in the very bottom of Liv’s backpack. Exactly where she had “lost” it.

Liv letter

Here is what it said:

Dear Abigails parents,

I accidentally cut Abigail’s hair. I’m so so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to do that. We were at rest time and I had some scissors and I came to cut the rug because there was a long string and I came to cut it but then I wanted to try to be a hair cut shop and my hands just had to do it. But I said no, but they did it. I apologize.

-Liv

From the first line I gasped and put my hand over my mouth… and then I experienced a roller coaster of emotions as I read each line.

“Oh…ok…so there was a long string on the mat…understandable, it was an accident.”

“Oh..nope. Ok…so the string was just the gateway to being a barber. She knew she was doing it. ”

How much did she cut??? Were Abigail’s parents seething in anger?

I pictured Abigail with a new set of bangs…cut by the HANDS of my child…not cut by HER mind you…because she told her hands not to do it…but they just HAD to.

She can not be blamed.

“What I don’t understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can’t be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God’s command is necessary.

But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can’t keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don’t have what it takes. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.” Romans 7:15-20

The age old tug of war…the back and forth that we can all identify with.

The very thing I don’t want to do, I do. The thing I want to do more than anything, that thing is the thing that I can’t seem to do.

Frustration. Guilt. Shame. They are all present when we miss the mark and end up doing that very thing yet again.

In Romans 7 you hear the agonizing spot that Paul is in… and haven’t we all been there?

It is so important that we get to the true point of Romans 7, how did Paul arrive at the desperate crossroads that he found himself: he became honest about his sin. He couldn’t bear the tugging anymore. He was so awake to sins existence in His life. An awareness of the fight, the back and forth, no longer turning a blind eye to it, but calling it out, acknowledging that we’re not enough, THIS is ESSENTIAL.

It’s easy for us to cover our sin, make excuses for it. It’s much simpler to go right on doing those very things we know we shouldn’t, to justify our reasons for allowing sin to move in and take up residence in our lives.

But it’s time to point a finger at the things in our life that don’t belong and to say “Why are you here? I don’t want you here but you keep coming back. Why?”

Why?

Sin.

We are limited in our abilities because of sin. We can set our mind on all of the things that we desire to do, and to be, but on our own we will constantly and consistently find ourselves in the same spot… “I said no but my hands just had to do it.”

So, what’s the answer?

All at once Sunday School class….. JESUS!

As simple as this sounds, Jesus is the answer to our tug of war. He is who settles the score of our sin and allows us victory over the back and forth.

We were created to need Him, to depend on Him. He is our something more…the one who carries us across the finish line of all of our hopes and dreams of living the way God has designed us to.

God gives us a destiny and a purpose and gives us His Son to make that destiny possible in our lives.

So today, stop striving to figure out how to do the things you should and not do the things you shouldn’t. Stop strategizing and creating all of the safety nets and boundaries to keep you from sinning, to keep you from straying…they aren’t going to work.

No amount of planning will work without Jesus. He is the power over our sin.

Lay down the desire to be the one who has all of this figured out. You aren’t supposed to. You are going to drive yourself mad trying to keep up that facade.

Jesus doesn’t desire hearts that have it all figured out. He wants honest hearts, aware of our sin but MORE aware of our need for Him.

Take all of your desires, all of your sins, the good and the gross, to Jesus today.

Give them to Him and ask Him what He thinks of them.
Ask Him to expose your motives.
Ask Him to give you the ability to have victory over the desire to do that darn thing you don’t want to do.

Take a deep breath… the pressure is off.
Quit fighting your sin and instead allow Jesus to fight on your behalf.

It’s the only way to victory.

Lean into Him. Let yourself need Him.

Let go of control and live in the wide open freedom only He can provide.

I’m doing the same today friend. I’m tired of saying one thing and doing another.
I am leaning into Jesus and allowing Him to win this fight.
You in with me?

Jul 16 2017

Shut Eye

By cassiehammett | Adoption, Family, Uncategorized

face filter Esther
So…here’s the real, raw scoop: WE. ARE. TIRED.

Our little E has not slept through the night (with the exception of 4 glorious manna from heaven nights) since returning from China.

Yeah…you did the math right…that’s 4 nights of solid sleep in 3 weeks.

Our little dumpling falls asleep fine…she tricks you into believing she’s a sleeping angel that’s about to snooze straight through until morning.

But then….2 hours later (literally on the dot) she wakes up and begins the nightly ritual of 1 hour of light sleeping at a time.

1 hour and then she’s up….again…over and over and over.

And when she’s up, she’s not happy about it. She’s angry and defiant and fights going back to sleep at all costs.

Let. Me. Tell. You. Something. Sleep deprivation is a real struggle.

I don’t know if you have ever walked the road of no sleep…but you think and say things in the middle of the night that you would NEVER admit to saying once the sun comes up.

There is a darkness about the middle of the night that is not just physical…there’s a desperation that exists when you’re beyond yourself from exhaustion, doing everything in your power to get your little love back to sleep.

And let me tell you…we have tried EVERYTHING:

Essential oils: I have basically baptized her in them every night.
Sound machine: It is TURNT UP loud.
Rocking
Bouncing
Pacing
Singing
Worshipping
Praying
Pleading

It’s all happening every night of the week at the Hammett household.

As I’ve watched my tiny dumpling struggle, truly struggle, every night something has occurred to me.

There is a level of comfort that is absolutely necessary for true rest. For that deep, mouth hanging open kind of sleep, you have to feel safe. It is an incredibly vulnerable act to lay down, close your eyes and shut it all down for the night.

And my wee one… she’s just not there yet.

So where does that deep comfort come from? What causes us to feel safe?

I’m convinced now, more than ever, that true safety and comfort come from knowing who’s in charge. Who is the boss of me? At the end of the day, who’s shoulders does all of this rest on?

And that’s a big lesson for QueenE, who for her whole life, has been in charge of it all. She has taken care of herself…there has been no one to mind her business. She has lived in a void of care.

She simply was not designed to be in charge of her little life.

Authority and Rest. They are tethered together. One affecting the other.

Authority.

We need it. Desperately. We don’t think we do, until we don’t have it and we watch our hearts drift and wander, desperate for the steady hand of love communicated through boundaries.

True rest of the soul comes from knowing who your authority is, knowing who’s you are.

I have searched the scriptures and seen that over and over again God shows His people that He is the one in charge; that He created a people that need Him to be.

And how does he choose to do that?

Through provision.

He chooses to prove He is the boss of it all by providing for the very things His people need.

How kind is our God?

He shows His ability to rule by giving us what we need, exactly when we need it.

The Israelites doubted, a ton, who was truly in charge, until God opened the heavens and food came down to fill their desperately hungry bellies. (Exodus 16)

The woman at the well did not know a thing about authority, that is until Jesus walked up, told her EVERYTHING ABOUT HERSELF (clearly He’s in charge) and then offered her living water…the only thing she truly needed to quench that deep thirst she had not found the bottom of. (John 4)

And nothing shows true authority more than feeding 5,000 when you only have some scraps to start with. (Matthew 14)

Jesus healed and raised folks from the dead. Miracles provisional in nature: providing freedom from sickness, breathing life where death reigned. Every time establishing His authority as King.

So, here’s the equation:

True rest of the soul comes when we know that it all rests on His shoulders, and that He will always and forever give us everything that we need.

That is what brings felt safety for our hearts, what produces the lay down and snooze kind of rest.

“In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone,
O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” (Psalm 4:8)

“It is Well” of the soul comes when we finally decide to give it all up, be vulnerable and hand it all to Jesus, admitting that He truly is in charge.

As for The Hammett family….we are in it to win it with QueenE. She is our daughter and we will show her we’re in charge through the ways we provide for her every need. And the more she learns that we can be trusted, that good gifts come from our hands into her life, she will learn to rest.

How about you? Are you missing some good ole’ fashion rest for your heart? Are you weary from carrying the load and believing that it all depends on you.

Well here’s some good news: it doesn’t depend on you. It never has.

You have a Heavenly Authority who delights in being in charge. He can handle your load, and mine, and QueenE’s and every child of His that has breath in their lungs.

Lay down and rest my friend.

He can be trusted.

E sleeping.JPG

For those of you who are curious…here is our new and improved plan for sleep:

We call it Baby Boot Camp.

We have started “sleep training” QueenE to be able to lay down and sleep in complete comfort.

The basic idea is to provide for her needs WHILE showing her boundaries and authority.
So when she wakes up, we sooth and pat her on the back, lay her down OVER AND OVER again, until she falls back to sleep.

No getting her up. No getting in the bed. No doing “whatever it takes to make the crying stop”….this is full on tough love.

Authority will produce rest. `

Jul 06 2017

Permission To Speak Freely?

By cassiehammett | Adoption, Family

Updates from the front lines:

JET. LAG. AND. A. TODDLER. IS. THE. WORST. THING. THAT. HAS. EVER. HAPPENED. TO. ME. After traveling 30 hours from China to Louisiana, with zero sleep and tight flight connections, our newest dumpling did not go to sleep until 5 AM THE NEXT morning, thus beginning the longest week of our lives. Sleep deprivation is a beast you guys. Shout out to all you mamas of newborns. I get it now. All the world was ending, I was dying, I couldn’t do it, my child was broken, I would never survive.
I forgot what it’s like to pee with someone in my grill, looking in the potty, messing with the toilet paper….etc. I tried locking her out but that felt weird…so we’re just having a blast co-pottying. It’s truly a blast. Privacy? What is that?
My two girls have a new obsession with my rear end. I get slapped in the butt at least a thousand times a day. It’s like the only language they can both understand, and so they have bonded over it. I will declare that this is not dignifying nor does it make me feel sexy. The other day I raised my voice and said, “OK!! NO MORE TOUCHING MAMA’S BOOTY. NO MORE…. ALL DONE.” as I used sign language to tell my Chinese speaking daughter.
When we first met QueenE we fed her, dressed her, changed her diapers…babied the mess out of her, only to find out that she can fully feed herself, and FAST, can dress herself and apparently knows how to use the potty by herself (she has watched me do it about a thousand times…learning on the job). Bless her heart. She was probably thinking, “well these weird white people seem to like to do these things for me so I guess I’ll let em.” She is FAR MORE CAPABLE than we were giving her credit for. (I’m pretty sure she tied a knot in a rope the other day…but we’re calling that a fluke because if not I’m terrified)
Esther is WILD….like loves-to-be-naked-and-run-and-scream kind of wild. My kind of girl.
Toddlers are a whole-notha-breed my friends. That’s all I have to say…it’s an unspoken prayer request if you know what I mean.
Esther has a cleft lip and palate (duh)….this was never more evident to me than when she sneezed and rice came out of her nose (?) maybe mouth (?)….and people…she was not eating rice. So there’s that. Where had that rice been? And for how long? We don’t know.

Just some highlights to brighten your day.

Esther Sad
Adjustment, transition, this is where we are. We are in the weeds of it.

Our brave little one has been alive for almost 1000 days and has had a family for only 25 of those days. She is in a new world, with a new language and people who do not look like her, and all of those people are constantly doting on her, talking to her, loving on her, giving her gifts and food….all things that are an absolute shock to her sweet little system.

She is a rockstar and has truly championed this new life of hers. We could not be prouder.

But, permission to speak freely, this stuff is HARD my friends.

It’s easy to post all of the good moments…all of the funny videos and amazingly sweet things that are happening in our little family. Don’t get me wrong, those things ARE happening. We laugh a lot, we marvel at how amazing our E is and what her presence is doing in our family, reshaping us in the best way possible.

But the transition from once orphaned to now adored, securely placed, named, known…. it’s not an easy path for little QueenE and it’s not easy on us as a family.

We are blazing a brand new trail in her little life, and we have the scars and weary hearts to prove it.

Watching my little E reminds me so much of the Israelites in the Bible, God’s chosen people. I can see so much of their story in her little life.

They had been in slavery for over 400 years. Generation after generation was born into slavery, lived it out and died still a slave. Controlled, owned, outcasts, not valued for who they were, only what they could produce.

400 years…that’s a long time huh?

YES. It’s all they knew.

Slavery was their NORMAL.

Whole generations had passed in this one way of living. They had adapted, shifted their expectations…a survival of the fittest response. This was life and they were going to endure it, they had to.

So, you can imagine the confusion and probably hesitation when someone (Moses) shows up and announces that they are FREE…and that they are LEAVING Egypt headed for the Promised Land, headed for freedom.

Freedom. What was that?

It’s not that they didn’t want it, they didn’t know what it was, so how could they want it.

But they followed him, I’m sure looking at each other and shrugging shoulders the whole time.

Excited? Sure! Freedom was feeling better and better with each step.

UNTIL…. they got hungry…and then freedom didn’t feel so free anymore.

It felt foreign and unpredictable. Could they trust it?

“The whole company of Israel complained against Moses and Aaron there in the wilderness. The Israelites said, “Why didn’t God let us die in comfort in Egypt where we had lamb stew and all the bread we could eat? You’ve brought us out into this wilderness to starve us to death, the whole company of Israel!” Exodus 16:1-3 (MSG)

The promise of the coming Promised Land wasn’t enough to keep them from looking back over their shoulder at what they were leaving. Yes, they were slaves and lived oppressed lives, BUT they knew that life. They were comfortable there. They could predict that at least food would come.

They may have been living in hell, but they knew all the street names. It was familiar.

Hunger. Panic. Knee-jerk to the old ways because the new ways were just that…new.

Living in freedom was uncharted territory.

And this my friends, THIS is where we are.

Our little one has found the Promised Land of a family…she’s been basking in it for almost a month. It is full and glorious and has everything she could ever need.

BUT….it’s new, uncharted, foreign.

So, when hunger strikes, or thirst, or grief or panic….

Knee-jerk to the old. Panicked glances over her shoulder at the former ways, the ways she used to coped, what she had to do to get what she wanted.

Survival of the fittest was the story of her life.

Can this new thing be trusted?

She’s not sure of that.

Only time will heal the memories of her past. Only the love of Jesus, constantly, without ceasing, will erase the knee-jerk reaction to run back.

And do you know what’s so beautiful? So challenging?

What was God’s reaction to His children, as they grumbled and complained and longed for the good old days?

Provision.

Miraculous provision.

This is how He won their hearts. He didn’t quit. He didn’t roll His eyes and leave them to figure out this new thing for themselves.

He pressed in and gave them the very thing they believed He wouldn’t give them.

Manna. Water. Shade. Light.

A little jaunt through dry ground in the middle of the dad-gum sea.

And that is what we, as a family, are asking Jesus for the ability to do.

When she pushes against us…to give her the very thing she needs.

When she kicks and screams, to wrap her up and provide the stuff that only a family can provide.

When she goes limp in grief, to sit with her, showing her that she, indeed, is in her Promised Land.

She is safe and she is free.

And there will be a day that her new found freedom will feel…well…TRULY FREE.

Jun 29 2017

Party for One

By cassiehammett | Adoption, Family, Uncategorized

“So he told them this parable: ‘What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.” Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” Luke 15:1-7

[easy-image-collage id=3835]

There’s a thing that happens when you truly follow Jesus…I mean when you actually choose Him, choose His ways and His heart and His word, you look up one day and find yourself smack dab in the middle of something that looks SO MUCH LIKE HIM.

It’s not you. You’re not the super hero.

All you’ve done is choose Him…and sometimes you have failed at even that. But the daily choosing of Him begins to change your desires, your decisions, your actions, your dreams and your hopes.

When Jesus moves into the neighborhood and takes residence in His heart…He does much more than transform YOUR heart and YOUR circumstances. He begins to shape and mold, push and prod you into the direction of the broken.

A hunger for Him translates into a hunger for people. It’s just natural. It is the equation.

Our freedom directly translates into someone else’s….that’s the way God’s love, through His Son, works.

I am humbled beyond belief that Jesus chose our family to model Himself.

As we carried our lost little one on our shoulders right into the fold of our tribe, celebrating and cheering, I realized that Jesus is actually real, that He had in fact called us to leave the many to find the one. And as we heard the cheers of our people, His word came to life before us. We saw that His Spirit will work out His character in our lives if we let Him.

The Hammett’s are not special. We are not more called than the next person. We are weak, tired, broken individuals. We mess up, we fail each other and we struggle.

But we have become addicted to saying YES to Jesus. We have seen that saying YES to Him overrides our weakness and gives us the ability to be a part of things we have not earned the right to be present for. We have learned the rhythm of risk that comes with being like Him. We are pleased to be His vessels…cracked and imperfect.

We have learned that the best way to truly understand the character and nature of God is to do something He would do, the way to actually wrap our hearts around the truths of scripture…is TO DO THE THINGS WE READ.

Don’t be fooled that the 99 righteous ones are where you need to set up shop, where you need to spend your days.

Leave the 99 and chase after the one.

Bring that one back on your shoulders, carrying them the whole way…fighting for their right to be in the fold of the greatest Shephard. You will be tired, bruised and battered because of the fight you had to fight to get them back….but this is the tired you were created for.

Gather all your people, your tribe, and celebrate as you return back.

Teach others to celebrate that one. Teach them to risk it all for the one that’s gone astray.

This is Jesus.

[easy-image-collage id=3842]

Shout out to our tribe:

There is one thing that has changed me forever, and that is the people that God so graciously has surrounded us with. We have people who champion our family in ways that give so much life and hope. We have mamas (Jeannie and Vallie) that are warriors for our daughters, who cook and clean and sit up all night with us as we cry and our new one screams. We have sisters who bring gifts and start meal trains and learn how to make our daughter’s favorite orphanage dish for comfort. We have friends who bring gifts, come and sit and give us conversation and laughter and who have made a point to give BOTH of our littles the love and affection they need!

Our friends look like the face of Jesus to us. We have felt the shade of His mercy standing shoulder to shoulder with them.

Want to know what the body of Jesus looks like? Come spend some time with our people.

Jun 21 2017

Already Good

By cassiehammett | Adoption, Family, Uncategorized

We pulled up and I could feel my heart begin to race. My stomach tightened as I saw the large gates of her orphanage open.

I was mostly worried about our little one. How was she going to react to the environment she had left just a few days before returning? Would she want to stay? Would she be scared to leave?

We knew it could be the hardest thing we’ve ever done, but we, as Esther’s parents, needed to see it. We needed to feel the gravity of loss that she had experienced in her short life. We needed more information in order to fight for her from the proper stance…armed with knowledge…no matter how painful. So we went. We made the two hour trip to the city she was found in, and now here we were, standing in front of the place that housed my wide eyed beauty for her entire life.

We introduced ourself to the orphanage assistant director, who’s voice we recognized as the “man on the other side of the camera” in the videos of our little. I had only watched those videos one bajillion times…so when he spoke I knew it was him.

He led us into the orphanage and we began our tour. I could have never known what my eyes would see and my heart would behold. I was not prepared.

It was hot inside, like the kind of hot that feels like there’s a wet rag over your mouth and you’re breathing through it…sort of like living in Louisiana with just a ton more humidity. We were drenched before we even headed up the steps to the first floor.

I could physically feel my wee one tensing up in my arms and could feel the change in her breathing…as her breaths got shorter and shorter her face shifted to sheer worry. She began to fret under her breath.

We were shown to the first room, her “classroom”, where a teacher, nannies and her “class” waited to see her.

Y’all…. our girl was the OBVIOUS FAVORITE of this place. Every child ran out yelling her name and laughing…the nannies called her name and giggled as they did it. These were her people…..and she had lived here 3 days before this day. It is all she knew.

I sat her down inside the classroom…she looked at the kids and the nannies and then back at me and she lost it. She started crying and screaming with her hands held up to me. My heart lept and let out a huge hallelujah at the sight of my little one wanting no one but me.

I know that sounds selfish…but the truth is I needed it and so did she. There needed to be a moment where I clicked in her heart as her safe place. And at that moment it happened. I swept her back up and walked her into the hall to calm her down.

From that point on, no one could come near my zesty one. She would scream and swing her arms at the site of anyone walking in her direction.

It was unbelievably beautiful and made me so proud.

Next, we were led into the the room where Esther slept, the “crib room”. As I walked in, I was side swiped by grief. They led us to her sleeping spot…and when I saw it I broke. It was a wooden bed with wooden slats…that’s it. No mattress, no pillow, no cushion. Wooden, hard and cold.

She took one look at that bed and began crying.

I held her beside it and we both wept. It was such an honor to grieve with her.

I whispered “I’m sorry” into her ear over and over again. Because the truth is, I was sorry. I was sorry that she had been here for 2 1/2 years. I was sorry for what my heart was seeing as her reality.

Room after room after room, filled with kids, doors barricaded, laying on the concrete floor staring at the ceiling.

460 kids.

460.

My one was one of 460.

The scope of the brokenness threatened to overwhelm my already fragile soul.

As we wandered through the massive building, we were instructed to simply step over the kids that laid in the hall, disabled and unable to move on their own. Step over them. How? How could this be real?

We passed a room and I could hear a swell of baby cries coming from behind the door. So I opened the door and went in. It was clear that this was not part of the tour, they had not offered to show us what was behind door number one…but I didn’t care. I was drawn like a magnet towards that room…my heart searching for knowledge of my now-clinging-to-me darling. She was there as a baby, brought to the orphanage at 2 months old. I needed to see her beginnings, where she spent her days as an infant.

I pushed open the door. I could feel my heart in my throat, threatening to jump right out of my chest. Multiple babies per bed, laid short ways so that they could fit. As we walked through the rows of beds, tears streaming down both our faces, I noticed that the babies heads were all shaped like my Esther’s, and then I saw the cause of it: the bars. Their sweet heads were shoved through the bars. I broke.

It was all too much. I felt an overwhelming urgency to get her out of that place.

We headed out of the orphanage and I was quietly begging for it to stop, for it to be over…this is my stop…can I get off here? I was thankful that we were headed toward the exit.

“When Yue Yue came the journalists all came out to see her. She is famous,” the assistant director said flippantly, shaking me out of my panic. This was why everyone knew her.

Our guide translated to us what he said. We wanted to know more. What did he mean? Why did journalists come out to see her?

Our guide asked questions and they talked back and forth for a few minutes.

“When she was dropped off, journalists and news stations came out to tell her story. They came and took her picture and told her story as a way of telling the whole city not to do this…not to abandon their babies. She was used to teach a lesson.”

I felt my heart swell with pride and the reality of HOW MUCH LIKE JESUS that was…that in the midst of absolute, overwhelming oppression our little one’s brokenness had already begun being redeemed.

Good had already come from her devastating loss.

Jesus had already done a work through her, in the state that He had found her. Broken, abandoned, orphaned and an outcast of society, but in His Kingdom she was already important, she had already served a purpose.

I looked at her and knew that this little life, just like her sister’s, was a massive gift that I had been given to steward.

And as we left I felt that all that I had seen that day…it had a place. I could place it at the feet of Jesus and worship Him in the grief, knowing that even before I wrapped her in my arms, she was the apple of His eye. His goodness had already been present in her life.

Man am I thankful for a God that begins the redemptive work in our lives before we have our act together, who sees the earth shattering potential of even our hardest places. I am thankful that He found me smack dab in the middle of my hard place and chose, in that state, to use me.

If you don’t know Jesus, friend, I encourage you to seek Him. If your heart hasn’t tasted and seen that He is too good for words…find Him as quickly as you can. He’s not far…he’s leaning into your life, fingerprints all over it already.

Jun 17 2017

Lost and Found

By cassiehammett | Adoption, Family, Uncategorized

I can imagine her mama, leaning over her tiniest little one as she said her goodbyes.

Her mama was wise to leave her where she did, I knew that when we rounded the corner and our guide pointed to the gazebo covered bench where my little one’s life shifted forever from a daughter to an orphan.

Next to a school, in the middle of a busy apartment complex.

She was left at 3:00 pm, right when school let out.

Her mama knew what she was doing. There was a plan, one that put her precious one in line with someone who would make sure she was safe.

I could feel the sacredness of this spot as I walked up to it, my heart racing and breaking simultaneously. Her “finding place” they called it. This is where it happened, where my daughter was laid at 2 days old. Where she was passed from her mama, to an orphanage to me. The domino effect began right where I was standing.

This spot is where Esther experienced the greatest loss of her life, creating the greatest gap for a miracle.

I turned around to see my little one, toddling behind me, and the widest grin spread across her face. I scooped her up into my arms and we stood in the very spot, her and I, mama and daughter.

Redemption washed over that bench as I declared the promises of God into her ear and whispered the name of Jesus over her. I could feel a release in my heart, a peace that told me she was indeed mine, and that her past would have no hold on her. I felt permission to joyfully hold her in this spot…amidst the tension of the suffering.

Jesus was there and He was greater than the pain that took place on that bench.

There is something extraordinary about being a “found one”.

Being found requires an action. It is a choice by someone to scoop up and deliver to safety.

To deliver out of darkness and into light, take you from who you were to who you were made to be.

Jesus has found you, friend. You are a found one.

Your “finding place” has no hold on you anymore. That spot where it all fell apart, the place that is marked with pain and shame; the brokenness that happened there has been washed in the mercy and grace of God, your Father.

You can return to that spot and you can dance over it. He has redeemed it.

You can spread out a wide goofy grin as it registers that that spot no longer defines you; that sin, that addiction, that heartache, that abandonment, that brokenness, it is not the end of your story.

It is simply where you were found.

Follow our families adventure in China on insatagram : @casshamm and @brenthammett