Here are Mosaic we continually want to be hearing and sharing what God is doing. We are often surrounded by bad news that is happening in the world but we do not want to forget that God is good and has good things in store for us.
Please feel free to read some testimonies below and if you have a story to share please let us know by filing out this form
When the MDS (Mosaic Discipleship School) night school in Edmonds was announced, God put it on my heart to go for it. I had so many excuses not to -- the time commitment, the cost of tuition, and the fact that I've only been coming to Mosaic since October were the top reasons. However, at every turn, my excuses kept getting shot down and my reasons for applying to the school kept getting stronger. So I applied, but still worried about how I would cover the tuition because our family of three live on one income. Finally, I just started praying about it and God answered my prayers through an anonymous donation! God put it on someone's heart to cover almost half of my tuition and I could not be more grateful! Just 2 months into the class, I can already seeing my relationship with God and my life changing for the better. This experience has been amazing and I cannot wait to see what the next few months will bring.
In 2007 my husband and I got married. We had always talked about having kids and sometimes we had thrown around the dream of fostering and possibly adopting some day. School and work came before kids as we built our lives together over the first 6 years of our marriage. When it came time where we felt ready to have children we were excited, and I had few doubts that in no time we would be parents. Eighteen months went by and no pregnancy. We clearly felt called to be parents and felt prepared for this next step and didn't understand why it was not happening. I had it so well planned that we would have two biological children and some day when they were older we would have adolescent foster children and help teenagers in need of a stable home while they finished high school. That summer 18 months into our infertility journey in the middle of a vacation I was having a quiet moment when I clearly heard God speak to me and ask me to look up children who were ready for adoption in Washington and Oregon states. I browsed the list of names, faces, and descriptions and felt that these were the children I was supposed to be parenting. I reviewed this with my husband who flippantly said, well we will have to add a third story onto our house in order to foster siblings of children. We drew some silly plans and laughed and I thought- there is no way I am going through a major remodel, we have been remodeling our homes for the past 6 years and I am finally perfectly happy with ours. But upon return we found ourselves at an architect's office, talking with a builder, taking 30 hours of classes, and having strangers come to our home to review its adequacy. How we came to buy our home is a whole other story in God's perfect timing and plan, but incredibly our home was one where we could actually add a story up despite the strict height limits in the city, and this was the only way we could become a foster family to sibling groups. In February 2016 we became licensed foster parents and in May 2016 we tore our dream home to shreds to add the bedrooms necessary to foster sibling groups and adolescents who are the hardest to place in homes. A long building process later we were waiting to be re-licensed when an email was sent to our church asking for placement for a young man who loved soccer and wanted to live in our city. Despite the atypical process and some resistance we found ourselves two weeks later with our first son. In the meantime we had decided to take a long break from trying for pregnancy and God brought such peace in this process for me. I was not anxious, instead I felt completely comfortable that God knew so much better for us and had turned our home into our real dream- a place where we could foster hope and children from all backgrounds. Two months into parenting we got a phone call from our agency asking if we could please taking two sisters. By the afternoon it was three sisters, and could we please take them all so they would not be separated. That evening three girls were dropped off at our home and our fostering lifestyle became a whirlwind over a few hours time. While not usually easy and not always fun we feel so content right where we are and right with what God is doing in our lives. The way He has met every need through our wonderful community and family has been a huge testament to His faithfulness. The way He ordained a life for us that was better than I could have dreamed and imagined speaks to His knowledge of my innermost being. Coming up on our 10 year anniversary I am excited for the years ahead and more thankful than ever for a spouse who God picked just for me to conquer this exciting and audacious life we get to live. And so if you come to our home you will see Acts 2:46 printed on our wall as we gladly and with sincere hearts break bread in our home with orphans and children from all walks of life and the friends and community who build us up.
The Stroke on Sunday Morning
It’s been over a year since the event that changed our lives forever. It has been an unbelievably difficult time following the initial shock of the stroke. It happened at exactly 6 am on a Sunday morning the 27th of September, 2015. It was to be the beginning of many lessons to come.
I am borrowing from my wife Teresa’s journal to describe what happened, as I was not able to recall the actual event.
(Teresa) 6 AM - I am awake when the alarm clock buzzes, it is dark in our room…I nudge my sleeping husband. He needs to get up as he is scheduled to be the key speaker at an 8am church service this morning. I nudge him a little more aggressively and Rob shuts off the alarm, but he doesn’t get up. I repeatedly tell him to wake up…then he stands and immediately falls back down on the bed... he is making a strange noise but I can’t understand what he is saying. At first I think he’s trying to scare me, but then I am afraid. I feel the panic rising and I hear my voice also rising to the strange high pitch of a woman who is becoming hysterical. I suddenly realize what is happening. I have to get a hold of myself and somehow I stuff down this horrible panic. I switch on the light and see Rob’s face, and then fumble for my cell phone on the night stand…I dial 911. “My husband is having a stroke!” I hear myself saying this to a stranger on the line…I give our address. The operator says “unlock the front door, turn on the porch light…they are on the way”. Rob repeatedly tries to stand and falls again and again. He is making scary sounds but no words will come out. I see his sagging face and the look of terror in his eyes. I manage my panic again as I keep pushing him back onto the bed so that he doesn’t injure himself. He looks so afraid. He is mumbling incoherently from the bed. I can’t believe this is happening! Suddenly I hear footsteps and voices; they are here in my house- these strangers. Someone produces a syringe, an injection is given, they are taking his vitals, and someone says they are taking him to Swedish.
I’m in shock as we arrive at the emergency entrance. I can’t see what door to enter as I stumble out of the front seat. I try to follow the emergency workers who are racing ahead of me… but I feel like I’m in slow motion and have a hard time keeping up. I am a deaf and blind person now. Somehow I make it into the building. I must have given Rob’s insurance card to someone and I think we went through some doors and people asked me what happened and when…then he was taken away. I wait alone in the thick fog of shock. The emergency room doctors are now speaking to the Seattle stroke center, they decide to give Rob a vital injection to limit the destruction of the stroke. They explain the risks and ask me to sign papers, of course I sign. I trust them, what else can I do?
We learn that he needs to be immediately transported to Seattle’s Cherry Hill Stroke Center, a more specialized intensive care facility where he can be closely monitored. In a whirlwind of activity, we once again speed away, sirens wailing. I remember looking at those who are waiting at bus stops on their way to work; and downtown Seattle’s sidewalks crowded with people, espressos in hand …they were all having a normal morning.
We arrive at Swedish Seattle, the Stroke Center. Rob is admitted and sent to ICU, where he will be closely monitored through the long night. He is unable to speak and is unaware of my presence. I am thankful that he is alive as I sit by his side through the night and pray. Rob is unable to speak or move, other than some slight uncontrolled responses to stimuli.
Our daughters arrived, giving support. Our pastor Brian Eastland came immediately. Friends and family were praying; and Rob began to recover. He could not swallow, speak, walk or recognize simple objects at first. A couple of days later he was walking and beginning to eat a special diet of thickened and blended food. Speech therapy began on day 1. Each day he made progress, walking the hospital corridors and was soon communicating enough that we could understand him. He had a steady stream of visitors to the hospital and many people were praying and offering help. We received support from so many. Angie a young woman from our church, a certified speech therapist offered to come to our home on a regular basis to help with speech therapy, as our insurance was limited. It was incredible.
We were all so thankful for Rob’s recovery, considering the magnitude of the stroke. One of Rob’s doctors told him that he was a miracle. I was stunned when I learned Rob was being sent home from the hospital just 5 days after such a major stroke. Although the hospital staff wanted him to stay for intensive in house rehabilitation therapy, he was released. I have to admit I was a bit scared to have him home only 5 days after a major stroke but thanked God he was a little too strong to qualify for the in house treatment. In spite of the hospital therapists fighting for him to stay, the insurance company denied the appeals.
Rob continues here:
(Rob) …but the Lord took over from there! I walked out of the hospital under my own power!
And so the hard work began, with many months of intensive speech therapy to learn how to talk, to write and read all over again.
It is now almost 20 months later. I have greatly improved. I am a much slower reader, but I see so much more. Like the hungry prospector who is searching for gold in Robert Service’s epic poem ‘The Spell of the Yukon’, I am finding “Nuggets in the stream”.
It’s been said that when you suffer it could make you wiser and more tender. 17th century Bishop Massillon has inspired me with his wise words, “There is no perfect happiness in the world; for it is not here the time of consolations, but the time of suffering…each one finds his own path strewed with brambles and thorns”. I can identify with the words of the Coldplay song ‘The Scientist’, “Nobody said it was easy… no one ever said it would be this hard.”
I thank God for my wonderful wife, my children, my family, my friends and my church. May the “brambles and thorns” ahead make us all wiser and more tender.
Rob & Teresa -