I Love My Tribe

July 14, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

The music washes over me. It is not just melody and rhythm…it is the very atmosphere of heaven. The lights are bright, the stage is full of musicians, and I am surrounded by my tribe. Almost every Sunday morning I find myself here, in the sanctuary of Life Center and saturated with the swirling presence of God and humanity. There are so many worship leaders that share the stage, so many musicians that rotate from week to week. They are full of talent and resurrection life, and I love them all! They have birthed an abundance of CDs out of the overflow of their lives of praise.

I watch the senior pastors in the front row, boppin’ to the rockin’ music. They are in their sixties, but they enjoy the youthful expression and energy as much as anyone. They actually lead the rest of us in radical, “out of the box” thinking! They have served this church for over twenty years, and I love them! I see one of the younger worship leaders, passionately singing a song that he wrote; and I think about how I used to babysit him when he was a boy. I look over and see his parents in the front row, beloved pastors who raised me in the youth group; still loving, still serving, still standing for all that is true.

Some folks are out of their seats, dancing. Some are swaying to the music. Others are sitting with their eyes closed. Others are kneeling on the floor. My teenage daughter is up front, worshipping with her friends. I observe many gray heads in the crowd, faces lined with wisdom and love. I see parents holding their little ones. I see children twirling scarves and prancing on bare feet. Life is always bursting forth at Life Center. There are more pregnant women than I can keep track of, and I love them all! I long to be able to tell each one of them how gorgeous they are and how precious they are to God, carrying His little children of promise!

I notice women running to each other in joyful reunions, laughing and hugging. I see people spontaneously begin to pray for the person next to them, passion and concern on their faces. I see others exchanging gifts or notes.

It is time for the offering and one of the “newer” pastors takes the microphone. He and his family have become so precious to me. Every time I see him take the stage, I am alert with anticipation. I know that some stunning revelation will spill from his lips that will rock the way I see the world.

The music subsides and there are announcements of births and deaths; family business that herald joy and tears all at the same time. How we each know that thrill and that pain, and how we each long to share those with our brothers and sisters. I walk to the back of the sanctuary during the meet and greet time, and I am enveloped in a warm and healing hug by a beautiful black mama.

“Look at you! You’re beautiful! Just beautiful!” she always says to me with her eyes shining and her amazing, white smile blazing. She is the beauty! I wish I could describe the indescribable, how dark and lovely she is…but her beauty is so deep and so true, I am at a loss for words.

It is time for the message and another pastor comes up. He and his wife are treasures to me, having led countless youth events, missions trips and prayer times that I was apart of. We have even lived with them a couple of times. Some folks in the crowd are a little confused because he talks too fast, as though he has 4 hours worth of revelation to impart in 45 minutes. Chris and I are fluent in “speed talk” since we grew up under his tutelage, and we just chuckle to ourselves. In his message, he talks about a mission trip that he led 20 years ago. I was part of that trip, and how I cherish those memories!

After the service, I hug my dear and longtime friends. I greet friends I grew up with and friends who were in my wedding. I talk with my children’s pastor, who I went to school with. I see more recent friends, who have quickly taken residence in my heart. I identify new acquaintances as well. I notice many fresh faces and hope to call them my friends someday too. So many personalities, so many gifts, so many stories, so many ways that God reveals Himself to me; represented by these precious people.

“I love my tribe!” I always think to myself on a Sunday morning. The love wells up within me, along with pride. I love my tribe! There are children of God all over this earth, in different denominations, different countries, varying cultures and traditions. But I am so glad that my boundary lines have fallen here, at Life Center. I started coming to this church in 1989, when it was meeting in the old casket factory. My husband Chris started coming earlier than that, in 1985. We left for a time and moved to Colorado Springs. In the eight years we were there, we couldn’t put our roots down, no matter how hard we tried. Now we are back in our promised land, surrounded by family. How good it feels to watch our family tree grow tall and strong with a wide trunk and thick bark, an oak of righteousness, a planting for the display of His splendor.

How glorious it feels to let our roots descend into the rich and fertile soil of Central Pennsylvania! How refreshing to drink the deep, deep waters. How thirsty we had been for those waters!

There are wonderful people of God all over the world, but this family is mine…my clan…my tribe. I am so glad! How I love my tribe!

Oh, the Love of a Sibling!

July 12, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 6 Comments

It is such a gift to have siblings…lots of them! My firstborn was a girl, Areli. When she was 18 months, our second child, Cole, arrived. Areli took to him right away. She couldn’t say, “baby” but she could say “boo-boo.” Boo-Boo became his name for the next two years. Areli and Cole cannot remember life without each other or “our chuthers” as they used to say. They were always best friends, like peas and carrots. They still are.

Two years after Cole, Cadin came along. They were a happy trio, getting into trouble and playing pretend. Cadin was always his own person, however, having different tastes than his older brother.

Ashlyn was born 18 months later. Her development was very delayed because of a chromosomal abnormality. She didn’t crawl for a long time and didn’t sit up until she was almost two years old. She didn’t begin to stand and walk until she was nine. Her world until that time was on the floor. God provided three little boys to take turns sharing the floor with her. Chai was born when she was 18 months, Cooper two years later, and Calvin two years after that. Oh the fun fellowship they shared, exploring every inch of the space underneath things and “cleaning up” any crumbs that fell there.

Cooper and Calvin have a special bond because they share a room and a bunk bed. They are now 7 and 5, and they are hyper, little balls of energy. We call them C&C Music Factory. If I want a peaceful outing to the store, I must only take one of them along.

My children love each other! They never lack a friend to play with. It is true that sometimes they express hatred rather than love, hurting the other just for the sheer enjoyment of it and denying that they are related at all. But I know that when the immaturity of this season passes, they will be deep and earnest friends for the whole of their lives.

Each new baby was welcomed with such excitement and enthusiasm that we had to protect the vulnerable little thing from being loved on too much. It was so sweet to see a normally wild boy get quiet and still when it was his turn to hold the baby.

Areli was always a natural mother. She got to be present at the birth of four of her little brothers. She was enchanted with it all. Childbirth can be intense at times, but witnessing it only seemed to increase her love for babies and her desire to be a mom someday. When Calvin outgrew the newborn, eat every few hours at night stage, he slept in a crib in Areli’s room. She was so happy to have him there. She would change him and clothe him and snuggle with him. She would even comfort him if he cried during the night and she wouldn’t tell me about it until the morning. A sister like that is worth more that her weight in gold!

Calvin turned two, and no new baby arrived. Cooper, age 4 at this time, began talking to me about the fact that we really needed a baby. I told him to pray about it. He did! After a few more months had pasted, Cooper came to me exasperated.

“I prayed for a baby, but I don’t think God heard me! We don’t have a baby yet!”

I encouraged him to keep praying and that God knows the perfect time for everything. More prayer seemed to increase Cooper’s vision. Soon he was reporting to me that God had 10 babies for us, 5 boys and 5 girls! They were up in heaven, just waiting for God to send them down.

This seemed rather far fetched, so Daddy told him, “Perhaps you are talking about the children that you will have someday when you get married!” Cooper didn’t seem so sure.

Not long after that, Chris and I announced to the children that I indeed had another baby in my belly. Cheers erupted! They all wanted another baby to hold and snuggle and change and dress. They were all so excited, none more than Cooper.

“I hope it’s a boy!” he announced.

Since we already had 5 boys, the rest of us thought a girl would be nice. An ultrasound revealed that the baby was indeed….another boy! Cooper was overjoyed!

“Now we only need four more boys, and 5 more girls!”

I have always encouraged my children to pray to God and listen to His voice. Cooper had always been great at this, possessing that child-like faith in great measure. I didn’t want to tell him that he was not hearing God’s voice, because how did I know? In my own walk with God, His words were usually somewhat surprising to me when they came, interrupting my own thought with an altogether different message. I have found that His thoughts are truly not like our thoughts; that His ways are not like our ways. He is constantly trying to get us out of that box (or cage), encouraging us to jump off of that cliff, and teaching us to fly with Him above the logical and obvious.

So Cooper’s ambitious vision for brothers and sisters does seem like impossibility, considering my diminishing fertile years. We had seriously looked into adoption a few years back, but right now, that seems impossible as well. How do I feel about the fact that Cooper thinks I should give birth 9 more times, or have triplets 3 times, or have two more babies and adopt seven, or any number of other scenarios?

I know that God knows what He is doing and His ways are mysterious beyond my comprehension but far better than what I could ever imagine!

So I just say, “Keep praying Cooper…keep praying! You never know what God might do…for the love of a sibling!”

It is Truly Delightful to Have a House Full of Boys

July 10, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 9 Comments

Little boys give the BEST hugs, squeezing your neck so hard with their little chubby arms that you feel like you will burst with the sheer joy of it!

You get to observe how your husband must have looked like as a baby, toddler, and little boy, and it is an adorable sight to behold!

You have the opportunity to learn strange and bizarre facts about many topics including but not limited to exotic animals, superheroes, guns, the world of Redwall, policemen, comic books, history, wars, and heroes.

You are inspired by the intelligent engineering and creative design of the structures that rise and fall, both outside and inside your home.

You are happy that those pesky squirrels have to run for their lives when your boys show up with their home-made bows and arrows.

Boys are enthusiastic eaters! The messier they are, the more they enjoyed it.

Boys love to pick flowers for their moms. “Picking” is a term used loosely to mean stomped on, whacked down, crushed, pulled up by the roots, and then presented with pride to the object of their affection.

Moms, YOU are that object of affection! What could be better than that!

Boys love to follow their Dad around, learning everything that Dad knows.

Boys can lift some of the burden off of Dad as they take over jobs that they enjoy and take pride in, such as yard work and maintenance of the house and cars.

Boys grow into teenagers who are bigger and stronger than you are. They can help in a myriad of ways from carrying the groceries to building your dream home. I have not yet received a dream home from my boys, but I have read a story of a mother of 13 boys who did!

You get to experience all the joys of each stage of their development as described in Wild Things: the Art of Nurturing Boys.

The Explorer (age 2-4) active, aggressive, curious, self-determined

The Lover (age 5-8) tender, obedient, attached to dad, competitive

The Individual (ages 9-12) searching, evolving, experimenting, criticizing

The Wanderer (ages 13-17) when a boy becomes the worst version of himself. Ok, that part isn’t so great, but just wait until you read the next one.

The Warrior (ages 18-22) going from boy to man, finishing, reflective, searching, romantic

We get to watch the little boy grow into the strong and courageous warrior. That warrior will stand up for what is right and defend the weak. That warrior will be motivated by love in everything he does with an authority that comes from knowing his identity in God. A vision of that Warrior, no matter how distant he might be from your reality, will keep you saying, “It is truly delightful and wonderful to raise a houseful of boys!

My Adventurous Husband with the Crazy, Impossible Dreams Might Just Be Right

July 3, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

My husband, Chris, is very different from me. In fact, he is quite the opposite. He is spontaneous and impatient, prone to making rash and risky decisions. He is also very driven. When he has a certain goal in mind, all else fades to the background as he plows through valleys and climbs over mountains to reach that goal. When he gets an idea in his head, it seems like an obsession to me. I am a steady and reliable creature of habit. I like to dwell, remain, and stay in my comfort zone. I feel no need to go trailblazing into unknown and possibly scary territory. To change my course is like trying to alter the flow of a river. I have found that trying to deter Chris from a goal is like trying to stop a freight train once it is barreling down the tracks. It is much easier to jump aboard and enjoy the ride!

We faced our first major financial decision as newlyweds. Our apartment had washer and dryer hookups, but we had no washer and dryer. We would spend hours at the Laundromat. Chris reasoned that if we could put our Laundromat money towards payments on our own washer and dryer, we would be much better off. I agreed, but when I saw the large price tag, I was terrified. We ended up in our car in the Sears parking discussing the pros and cons. The worry of making a bad decision brought me to tears. We ended up buying the brand-new, super-capacity Kenmore beauties, despite my abiding nervousness. Eighteen years, 6 moves, and eight children later, they are still washing 2-3 loads a day! Chris was totally right!

In 2006 we were renting a nice house on Market St where I found my Little Piece of Heaven. Sure, I wanted to move eventually, but I figured that God would bring that opportunity right to us at the proper time. But Chris was obsessed. He was unsatisfied with our living conditions and upset that our rent money was going into someone else’s pocket instead of building up equity for us. He talked to realtors. He got lists of homes sent to him every week on the internet. He kept finding houses that he wanted me to look at. The available four bedroom homes priced around $100,000 were not at all what I would call attractive or comfortable! I didn’t want to look at these homes, not to mention consider living in them. But I did it, because Chris asked me to. We even put offers on two of them. They had been on the market for a long time. We thought we could get a good deal, fix them up and then sell them for more…all in an effort to get closer to our real dream house. Both houses were snatched up right before our offers came in.

Chris didn’t give up, however. He talked to other realtors, looked at other houses, and kept viewing homes on the internet. None of the homes interested me at all. Basically, I had given up on owning a home. One day Chris came across a picture of an older home, shrouded in dark awnings and overgrown shrubbery. He set up a time to see it. He walked in the front door, took one look at the high ceilings and beautiful woodwork and thought, “This is it!”

There was just one mountain of a problem. It was more than twice what we could afford. He set up a second time to view the house and wanted me to come along. I so desperately wanted to refuse him, and I almost did. I didn’t want to go see another ugly house. I definitely didn’t want to go see a beautiful house, fall in love with it, and then have to face the reality that we could never afford it. But I did it, because Chris asked me to.

The house was built in 1924 and was in a beautiful neighborhood with tree lined streets. I toured the gorgeous home, loving every detail of it! I tried NOT to love it…but I couldn’t help it. I took a paper containing the specs of the home that included a tiny black and white picture of the exterior. In my mind, that dreary picture was a picture of my dream home. I placed the paper on top of my filing cabinet. Every time I passed by and caught a glimpse of that paper, I would pray that God would do a miracle and give us that house! Every time we passed the exit on the highway that would take us to the house, longing would fill my heart that someday that exit would lead to my home! Every night before bed, the children would pray and ask God to give them that house! Chris’ obsession had become a family obsession!

The realtor went to the owners with a crazy idea. Even though the house had only been on the market for two weeks, he urged them to consider a sellers agreement, where we would make payments to them directly and take over the mortgage in a few years. It seemed like an eternity before they responded…THAT THEY WOULD! Amazing miracle number one! Yet our soaring spirits sank a bit as we heard the terms. The monthly payment was way too much, and we had to come up with $10,000 upfront. Chris countered with $300 less per month. They accepted! Amazing miracle number two!

Time came to sign the paperwork, and we still had no money to put down. Chris continued to plow ahead, scaling that mountain and signing away! I was terrified and thought back to the washer and dryer purchase so long ago. How small that decision seemed compared to this one was! I sat with the realtor, the paperwork, and a kitchen timer in front of me. I was timing contractions that had been coming every twenty minutes for baby number six. I was about to have a baby, and here I was, facing one of the biggest decisions of my life! I wanted to call it all off, or have a conference like we did in our car in the Sears parking lot. I wanted to cry my heart out and beg Chris to back out of the whole thing!

Quietly a peace descended upon me, and my emotions stilled. My contractions stopped. I saw the hand of God moving heaven and earth. I saw that it was He who had put that obsession into my husband’s heart. I signed the paperwork and believed that God would work out the rest. Amazing miracle number three!

I didn’t have any more contractions for almost a week. My grandmother joyfully offered to give us the money we needed and a bit more! Amazing miracle number four! Chris’ mom flew in from Colorado in anticipation of the new baby’s arrival. That night my water broke, but there were no contractions. In the morning, we thought we would pass the hours by showing my mother-in-law our new home! It was a hot and humid day in August. I walked around my home, and I began to get contractions. They increased as I showed off my four large bedrooms and gigantic bathroom on the second floor. They increased even more as I went down to view my spacious and clean basement with shelves and shelves of storage space. Finally, we all gathered outside to return to our rental house. I leaned on the truck with one intense contraction. It was hard to escape the pain with heat emanating from the sun above and rising from the blacktop below. I thought, “What have I done, coming here while in labor? I need to get home!”

We arrived home in plenty of time to fill the baby pool in our bedroom and call the midwife. Our little Cooper was born a few hours later, healthy and happy! Some weeks after that, we began to move into our new home.

We are still in this home, paying the mortgage (our mortgage!) eight years later. That is the real miracle! We have weathered job losses, economic downturns, and debt reduction programs. We were close to foreclosure during the hard times, yet we are still here!

Three years ago Chris became obsessed with another goal, to become a business owner. He talked to a business broker and received emails about local businesses for sale. He read books about entrepreneurs and conversed with friends who were business owners.

“Oh brother,” I thought. “Here we go again!”

He inquired about a Signarama shop just blocks from our house. He went to visit with the owner and saw the shop. He was convinced that this was it. He wanted me to see it all and tell him what I thought. I really didn’t want to! But I did, because he asked me to.

When I saw the shop I thought, “This is definitely NOT it!” A sign shop, full of vinyl to make signs? How boring! I never had any interest in being a business owner, nor ever thought about making signs. Chris began the slow process of turning my course.

We talked with the regional VP of Signarama to learn more about the franchise. What emotions surfaced when I thought about this proposition; spending all we had plus going into debt to acquire a business? Terror! Pure fear! Fear of not having enough to pay our bills. Fear of heading towards foreclosure again! Fear of making a big whopper mess-up of a decision! Quietly peace descended upon me, and I heard the voice of God.

“Do not fear making mistakes. Mistakes aren’t as powerful as you think they are. You see them as huge giants that can rob you of your destiny. That is not true. Your mistakes cannot negate my promises or my power or my faithfulness in your life. I can cause all your mistakes to prosper and use them for good. In fact, your mistakes are your servants. Use them to learn about me, yourself, and your destiny. Use them to draw near to me. Do not fear making mistakes. Make all decisions in confidence and faith. I AM able to lead you and keep you in my perfect will. I AM faithful!”

So we took the plunge into business ownership. It has been harder than we had ever imagined. Some of my fears have come to pass, but I realized that they weren’t so bad after all. God is in control, and He is bringing us through this into the abundant prosperity that He has promised! Chris is learning to slow down his freight train to prayerfully consider my wisdom. I am learning that my adventurous husband with his crazy obsessions might just be tapping into the very heart of God!

“The moment you are in is pregnant with possibility. DON’T kill it with fear.” – Bill Johnson

I won’t kill it with fear! I will move forward with faith and confidence!

I WILL ENJOY THE RIDE!

My Little Piece of Heaven

June 22, 2014June 23, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

Our first apartment as a married couple was a little piece of heaven, a sweet and tiny oasis of newlywed bliss (well, usually…except for those times when we were fighting over whether we should throw the budget out the window and buy a VCR.) It had the charm and character of an older building. It was situated in an established neighborhood with tree lined streets. We used to take long walks and imagine which one of the beautiful homes we would buy one day. We were excited that it had a garage, a rare find for an apartment building. We were delighted when we pulled into the garage that first time, only to realize that there was no extra room for the driver to open his door and actually exit the vehicle while still in the garage. On a particularity hot summer day, the second story apartment became just oppressive. We realized that running two air conditioners at once was too much for the old electrical panel to handle. Just minor details that added to the charm.

After a year we decided to shake off the dust of that boring, little town and find a real adventure in Colorado Springs. There we found another piece of heaven in a garden level apartment. Oh, the sweet memories of our younger married days! It had a spare bedroom and a cozy fireplace. It also boasted mice and a snake (totally uninvited!) In the big snowstorm of 1997, hundreds of travelers got trapped on the highway between Colorado Springs and Denver. Chris thankfully found shelter in a Denver hotel. Meanwhile, I was being buried alive in that underground apartment, feeling claustrophobic and horribly bored. The little apartment was sparsely furnished with only a bed, dresser, and kitchen table. We would sit on the carpet in the living room to watch movies. That’s right! We did own a TV and VCR by this time. Our lives were full of blessings!

After six months we found the perfect townhouse that seemed just massive to us; two bedrooms and two bathrooms! It was new and pristine with an open floor plan. Heaven again relocated to be with us in this lovely place. We had our first baby and settled her into the extra room. I can’t describe how beautiful it was, that cherub sleeping in her own crib in her own room. We had our second child and added another crib. We had our third child and added a set of bunk beds. Then we had our fourth child, and she ended up in our walk in closet. The walls felt as though they were closing in on us, and the concrete slab in back wasn’t what our children needed for a back yard.

We were able to sell that little piece of heaven (finally!) and find a little larger piece of heaven to rent; a real house with a real fenced in yard! With four, then five young children, I felt like I had won the lottery! The fence was not an effective barrier for the little neighbor boy down the street, who would escape by climbing over his fence and into the neighbor’s yard and eventually into our yard…all without his parents having a clue. They would find him wandering around the neighborhood doing interesting things, such as “selling” free ice cubes door to door out of a soggy cardboard box. My children didn’t feel inclined to follow little Nick, but rather played contentedly in our own back yard, safe and secure, and life was good!

Having had more than our fill of adventure in Colorado, Chris accepted a job back in the boring, little town where we had started. Yet now it had been transformed into our Promised Land. The 5 day trip across the c ountry was like crossing the Jordan. As we drove into Central Pennsylvania, I could hardly believe it! We had arrived! We had reached our own little piece of heaven in a rental house on Market Street. Sure, there was constant traffic and sirens passing our house 4 or 5 times a day. Sure, there was a lot of air pollution and mold in the house. (We have never been so sick as a family as we were in that house.) Yet, out the kitchen window I could see a stunning dogwood tree, showing off its incredible blooms just for me. And the view from the living room – Amazing! I wou ld sit in my recliner and nurse baby number six while my eyes would feast on the sight of the magnolia tree. For two weeks out of the year, it would look so glorious; I thought that this must be what the Garden of Eden looked like.

I was content in my little piece of heaven, but my husband found a house online that he was interested in. There were no pictures of the inside. The outside looked old and outdated, hidden in dark awnings. But there was a huge front porch and my imagination painted the inside with much charm and character. I t was less than a mile from our fist apartment. When we actually got inside to take a real look at it, it was better than I had imagined. “This is it!” we thought, “Our piece of Heaven!”

Miraculously God gave us that house which cost twice the amount we were qualified to borrow, and that is where we live today. I love the custom woodwork, all original from 1924. I love the high ceilings and wide hallways. The large downstairs bathroom, which used to be part of the original doctor’s office, has built-in shelves and cabinets and a counter just perfect for a baby changing station. I imagine that when Dr. Christian was drawing up the plans for this house to his own specific needs, God was quietly whispering in his ear. He was giving his loving “suggestions” that would make this the perfect home for the Brandenburg family 80 years later. It is true; the house is very old. The lead paint on the windows is chipping, the porch is rotting, and the doorknobs come off in your hand if you pull too hard. Yet, this is where heaven resides, and this is where I want to be! Our seventh and eighth babies were born in the bedroom upstairs. The older children have grown into teenagers here. The younger boys ride their bikes on the sidewalk and play with the neighbor children. I love to watch them in the back yard, glowing golden in the setting summer sun.

It is true; we have a lot of people sharing five bedrooms and one bathtub! We have our eye on a much bigger place; seven bedrooms, six bathrooms, and ten acres of wooded land. And when we finally get there, heaven will be there too! I am sure that even that divine home will have its issues. Maybe it will feel like too many square feet to keep clean and heat. Maybe the mosquitoes will be breeding in that idyllic lake out back. Whatever the issues are, they are just details. The real truth is, heaven is wherever the center of God’s will is…and for me, that is in the heart of my family’s home.