Grace upon Grace

The past three weeks have been life-shaping.  I think I am likely to look back on this time and mark it as a catalyst for huge change.  While it has stretched me and challenged me, it has also given me pause to reflect on some of the darkest days in my past and the individuals who came across my path during those times.

 I must say this: there are some people whose approach to loving me saved my life during that time.  When I look back, it was not those people who shouted Bible references at me from their elevated positions. It wasn’t people who judged my behaviors or called out my “hard heart” in passing or spread stories about my actions (true or false) or who pushed me away, rejected me, or who demanded that I show up in certain ways before I could be worthy of their companionship and love.  Instead, it was individuals who spoke the truth to me consistently, while walking beside me, who helped to draw me out of the darkness.  It was through their love and grace and patience, and not the legalism and self righteousness of others, that I saw the face of Christ over and over again.  There were several friends throughout my Faulkner Academy and Storer Elementary days who displayed this  love to me.  I remember vividly times when my friend Cindy would display love and radical welcome to me in a wide variety of ways from the minute to the major.  She spoke the truth to me all the time, even when it was hard to hear, but she did so with such love.  I know, in no uncertain terms, that my behaviors were hurtful to her in more than a few instances.  However, she didn’t push me away or cast me out.   Instead, she drew me closer, knowing that care, compassion, and empathy is exactly what my aching heart needed.  I clearly remember a time when she literally knelt beside me and held me as I heaved sobs of pain.  She never made me feel unworthy of her love.  She never demanded change (needed as it was) as a prerequisite for her friendship or for me to have a place at her table.  I did not have the capacity or the depth at that time to repay her kindness and self sacrifice.  I doubt I will ever be able to repay her.  I shudder to think where my life would be without her.  The light of Christ shone more brightly through her than almost anyone in my life.   In the past few months, I have been saddened to see the lack of grace and compassion that has been extended to immigrants, children, orphans, and victims of childhood trauma at the hand of “Christians.”  At this crossroads in my life, I pray for the strength to extend the hand of Christ like Cindy did to me 10 years ago: with humility, grace, and love.  It is my passion to evaluate what it really means to come

alongside people who are hurting.  I pray that I am able to continue to raise my children to walk humbly, speak up bravely for justice, and spread love wherever they go.  I also pray that our family is surrounded by people like Cindy as we prepare to bring our babies home.  We will need love in the active sense.  We will not need judgements or self righteousness or opinions from every corner.  We will need to see the hands and face of Christ through “our people.”  I pray that we can both give and receive this beautiful gift.  

The Problem with Nesting

So, I’m eight months pregnant and I guess I’m “nesting” as they call it.  I never experienced this when I was pregnant with my first, or maybe I did because we moved into a new place the month before he was born and I spent the last few weeks of my pregnancy unpacking boxes and moving the furniture around again and throwing stuff away that was perfectly good enough to move to this new house only a few weeks ago.  Also, I set up an elaborate nursery.  And helped my Mom paint an enormous mural.  Ok, so maybe I nested.  I called it “moving in.”    

Flash forward five years and you’ll find me organizing everything.  Every closet.  Every drawer.  Every cabinet.  I’m purging things which seems crazy because we live pretty simply with the goal of not accumulating “stuff.”  Still, I’ve found things to purge.  Things are getting donated and thrown away.  Surfaces are getting cleaned and scrubbed and vacuumed and mopped.  At first, I thought this behavior was totally necessary since this new baby does not have a nursery space and we need to somehow fit him into our bedroom (which is tiny because we live in a tiny house in the city and we love it but it is tiny).  Our dresser is doubling as a changing table and my armoire is now Baby’s closet.  However, even when I finished arranging our bedroom and finding places for all of the baby gear around the house, I still continued to feel unsettled until I reorganized certain areas.  We spent a big portion of the weekend organizing spaces.  My husband loved it.  It was his favorite weekend in a long time.  No need to double check.  Just trust me.  I have a few more areas on my list and I was eager to get to them today.  If I could just finish those last few areas, I’d finally feel ready and be able to rest.

This morning, I woke up in a panic, as I do many mornings, thinking about our children in the DR.  With tears in my eyes, I said a prayer for them and flipped through the many pictures of them on my phone.  My heart has been heavy with thoughts of them all day.  I went about my morning finding new areas to declutter, but finally stopped to drink a cup of coffee and attempt to relax.  While I was sitting, I realized: this nesting instinct is so strong, but I will never be able to satiate it.  It is perfectly normal and usual for me to be making room for the baby of our family while making sure that there is adequate room for all of his siblings.  However, I’ll never be able to quiet my heart until ALL of my children are right where they belong under our roof.  It is such a strange feeling for my heart to be totally and completely overjoyed by the upcoming birth of our child while simultaneously, that same heart is aching for children thousands of miles from me.  How can my heart and soul hold such huge feelings at the same time?  How can I ever really feel ready for Baby when my heart isn’t quite whole? 

We’ve endured a few months of “radio silence” on the DR side of things, which was to be expected here at the beginning of the process.  Our dossier is complete and in the hands of our lawyers and our immigration paperwork has all been submitted and we are waiting on an official answer from them.  Meanwhile, we pray and wait and send messages and letters and sometimes we grumble because we are human and waiting is hard.  We trust that God has the timing of this entire journey completely in His hands and we must just be willing to move when it’s time. His time, not my time. 

I will continue to wrestle with these big “mom feelings” and pray that I can give my very best love to this new little guy while still being an adequate mother to my big little guy and a patiently waiting mother to the rest of my beloved children.          

Never Walk Alone

The further I progress in my pregnancy, the more I am visited by my great prenatal friend, insomnia.  I have found myself waking up many times each night over the last few weeks.  My first thought is immediately about our children in the DR.  I have been dreaming about them almost every night since I first saw their pictures months ago.  Recently, I’ve wondered if they ever wake up in the middle of the night.  I wonder if they are laying awake at that very moment, possibly scared or wondering about their futures.  I wonder if they are feeling unloved or inadequate or unwanted.  While I am grateful to know that they are receiving excellent care from very loving individuals, my logical self knows that the ratios do not make it possible for them to have all of the comforting and loving interactions and personal attention that they will have when they arrive home.  When I was talking to my mom about this a few weeks ago, she reminded me that there is One much greater than me who has loved them and carried them from their very first breath.  He has set their path from the beginning and knows each hair on their heads.  Mom told me, “they’ve never been without a Father.”  I have found this to be so comforting as I wait for this year to pass before we can all be home together.  While I cannot directly meet their physical or emotional needs in these moments, God has never left their sides and has brought wonderfully dedicated individuals along to care for them in the meantime.  We sang this song on our first Sunday in Lafayette and while we were singing, tears streamed down my face.  This song so perfectly captures our journey and the truth that we want to be so evident to others as we take each step: “Carried by Your constant grace.  Held within Your perfect peace.  Never once did we ever walk alone.  Never once did you leave us on our own.  You are faithful.  Every step, we are breathing in Your grace.  Evermore, we will be breathing out Your praise. You are faithful.”  

A Roller Coaster and a Heart Exam

"Adoption is a roller coaster of emotions."  We heard this from many of our friends and adoption experts as we've walked this journey the past 5 years.  We were (somewhat) ready for the ups and downs.  What I wasn't ready for is the strength of the emotions I'm experiencing.  This journey has brought about some of the most intense and rawest emotions I've ever experienced.  A few months ago, after a very purposeful conversation, Rob and I decided to open our hearts to this process completely, to dive in with both feet because that's what we believed God was calling us to.  For two expert emotional masons who have become masters at building walls around our hearts, this was difficult at first.  However, with each picture and interaction with the kids, it becomes easier.  All four of our kids have our entire hearts.  With this openness, however, has come the ability to fully feel every twist and turn of this roller coaster.  There is joy, fear, despair, excitement, protectiveness, worry, distrust, and anticipation, among other "big feels."  We have already felt the highest highs and the lowest lows and we know that there are more to come.  It is so hard and there are days when my selfishness prompts me to pack up my heart and retreat to my safe little comfort zone.  However, the rewards that we have found at the top of each mountain have made the darkness and uncertainty of each valley totally worth it.  And as I'm learning...even if I don't consider it "worth it" in my earthly mind, God always proves me wrong in the end. 

Here's the other thing about this process: it is exposing my humanity unlike anything else I have ever faced.  I have seen some of the ugliest things come out of my heart in the past few months.  I'm embarrassed to say that I STILL struggle to trust God's will and timing, even after he has unnecessarily proven himself to me approximately a million times.  I'm impatient and can be unkind to those I love the most when I get "stressed."  I'm selfish and can even become a bit ragey when I feel like other human beings are not moving at my pace.  Whoa.  I need so.much.grace and forgiveness in this season.  I am so grateful that God's mercies are new every morning because I am using up just about every last one by the time my head hits the pillow each night.  I have some major work to do this year.  I am working to view this as an opportunity to put my heart under a microscope and deal with some of the disease that is residing there.  

Would you pray for us that we will purpose to live based on God's truth and not our ever-changing feelings throughout this process?  Would you also pray that I am able to use this year on purpose to deal with some of the ugly parasites that have taken up residence in my heart?  

We are thankful for the support and love of our friends and family throughout this journey.  It helps us face each twist and turn.  

Some Perspective

I'll be honest, Our Year on Purpose Day 7 started off with lots of tears.  We've spent weeks at the mercy of other people's timelines.  These other people do not seem to be as motivated by the adorable cuteness of my two waiting children, nor my pleas for them to please hurry up (or at least answer one stinkin' email).  This frustration came to a peak for me this morning and was quickly followed by the news that because of an error in calculation (ie adopting two children instead of one), our adoption agency had given us an incorrect quote initially and the fees for their services would be twice what we were told.  My mind started spinning out of control, swirled with my raging pregnancy hormones, and brought about an emotional storm.

So I went for a walk.  And listened to our theme song for this year over and over.  I stopped and chatted with some neighbors and waved to others and I just allowed myself to soak it all in.  One cannot take a stroll through my neighborhood without realizing their own privilege.  I began to think about how blessed I really am.  Some of my neighbors are right now as we speak deciding whether to use their Friday paycheck on a bill or a trip to the grocery store.  My neighbor kids have never heard the words "Science Museum" let alone been able to afford to spend an afternoon there.  We.are.so.blessed.  Will the next few years be tight financially as we pursue and continue to pay for this adoption?  Yep.  Do I sometimes question my decision to take a huge pay cut and move from working in the cozy suburbs to work in a school in my own neighborhood?  Of course.  Am I terrified, if I'm really honest, about the financial reality of all of this?  Yes.  Yes, I am.  HOWEVER, God brought to mind today all the times that he has provided just the right bridge to cross over deep water in my life.  I can't think of one time in my life when He didn't ultimately provide for my needs.  He has redeemed literally every struggle I've ever encountered and pursued me even when I was running the other direction with my fingers in my ears.  Even when I can't see it, hear it, or imagine it, my God is working to complete the work He has started in me.  This isn't going to be easy, but it's going to be good.
 

Our Battle Cry

One of the first activities I participated in while in the Dominican Republic was to attend church. The same church the children from the orphanage go. This is the church that is pastored by the husband of the wonderful woman who runs the orphanage. I knew this would be my very first opportunity to meet our kids. 

My palms were sweaty (and not from the extreme humidity), my heart was beating, and I was pacing the building. When the buses arrived I was one of the first to be waiting outside. Immediately I turned to scanning the faces peeking through the windows, trying to see our son. 

And there he was... big old smile on his face. He bounced off the bus with a great amount of energy and embraced the director of the orphanage with loving arms. 

I was snapping pictures, smiling, and holding back tears. 

The children filed inside, and I followed. Adult bible study was in progress and that meant I had some time to go down and meet both of our kiddos for the very first time. With the help of a young pastor who works at the orphanage, we found my boy. He came out and the first thing he did was give me a big hug. 

We spent the next 10 minutes or so talking, learning about each other, and asking each other lots of questions. He agreed to go back to the classroom only if I promised to play with him when we got to the barbecue at the home of the pastor later that day. Of course, I agreed!

Then it was on to finding our little girl. After checking three rooms, we finally found her. She came out as timid as could be, but willing to let me pick her up. My little muñeca (a nickname = doll), gave me a few sweet hugs and then was ready to go back to class. 

I stepped into the bathroom, took a few deep breaths, and wiped away the tears of joy that were running down my face. After I pulled myself together, I headed back upstairs in time for the worship service to begin. 

It was during that worship service, sung in Spanish, that God reminded me he was with me on that trip and with us on our adoption journey. The band began to play my favorite hymn, "It is well". 

In the moments I could sing, I sang. In the moments my emotions took control, I cried. And in the moments of complete peace, I was quiet. 

---

Beth and I have agreed to commit to a song, our battle cry if you will, for the duration of our adoption process (and beyond). It just so happens that the song is "It is well". We believe in the words that are in this song. And we believe in the heavenly father who is the inspiration for the words. Below is the video of one of our favorite bands (Finding Favor) singing their version of the song. 

Today, as I listened to it over and over again, one line jumped out at me. I will leave with you with the lines and the video. 

"When trials may come

I'm holding to the promise

That you've already won!" 

 

P.S. A fun little note is that Beth and I have agreed to get the words "It is well, with my soul" as tattoos. As that happens, we will be sure to post pictures! 

Please continue to pray for us, and feel free to join us in our battle cry! 

Our Year on Purpose

Our family is embarking on what will likely prove to be the craziest year of our lives.  With a baby due to arrive in November and two precious children coming home from the Dominican Republic next summer if the Lord wills, we have many changes in store.  We have found in the last few weeks the reality that fifty-two weeks is a very long time to wait to complete our family.  We want to be wise stewards of this year.  Our instincts might be to whine and complain and wait idly for the year to pass, but we realize that would be a waste of an opportunity that God has placed before us.  In reflecting on how best to use this year, we have dreamed up our Year on Purpose.  We will be posting our progress towards 10-12 big goals here, along with pictures and stories from our year.  While we hope that this will serve as a fun journal to share with our children one day, we also wish for others to join us on our journey to live the next twelve months ON PURPOSE and see what life may bring.