When We Hurt For Our Children

Parenting is hard. It's hard and sometimes ugly. You don't get an owner's manual when you have a child. There are no "do this and your kid will respond this way" instructions. Oh there are plenty of parent help books. And Lord knows you get oodles of advice from everyone around you--whether they have kids of their own or not. The problem is, children are not made from cookie cutters. They have thoughts, feelings, experiences, struggles that are unique to them. No one else has been exactly where they are. So you're on your own, essentially, trying to weed your way through all of the advice and the experience of others. You try a million different things for your given situation, hoping and praying that something, anything will stick. That somehow you'll come out on the other side a little wiser, with a child who's issue has been resolved, both of you no worse for the wear.

Our oldest is struggling. He has the normal 13 year old issues--kids at school picking on him, trying to figure out who he is, not a child yet not quite an adult, trying to fit in and stand out all at the same time, hormonal changes. And to top it all off, he's the oldest. So he's trying to navigate all of this while WE try to navigate all of this, for the first time, with our first born.

My heart hurts for him. He is such an amazing kid. He's kind, helpful, outgoing, creative, structured, precise, loving, and giving. He's an awesome big brother, most of the time. He has great ideas and a huge heart and I love him more than words can begin to describe. So my heart hurts for him when I see him going through the exact same things I did at 13. He can't see past the here and now. He can't fully understand that it's okay to be yourself and that it doesn't matter AT ALL what other people think or say. He doesn't yet have the self-confidence to stand on his own two feet against the world, even on the small scale of middle school. I can't fight this battle for him. We are no longer at a point where Mommy can rush in, scoop him up, kiss his boo-boos and make it all better.

So instead I get to love him, encourage him, be patient with him. Even as he lashes out in anger and frustration at me, his dad, his siblings--I have to extend grace, knowing that it comes from a deeper place, a hurting place. It comes from growing up.

I am so amazed at the young man he is becoming. He's so thoughtful, so willing to give of himself. He's incredibly smart and already stands taller than me. He's no longer a child, but he will always be my baby, the child who made me a mom for the first time. So I do all that I can do myself. Then I turn to the One who loves my son more than I could ever comprehend, the One who can help him, heal him and make him whole. My Jesus. And I trust Him to do the things I cannot do myself. I trust Him with my son.

I believe when we hurt for our children, we are, quite possibly, as close as we could be to understanding the love of God. We are His children, after all. He loves us so much more than we realize, He hurts so much deeper as He watches us struggle. He sees our pain, our doubts, our fears, our failure. Yet He allows us to learn, to grow, to become the men and women He created us to be through these experiences--all the while loving, guiding, encouraging us and being patient with us. He extends His grace, because He knows that our sinful nature thrives on the hurt found deep within us. And He patiently waits, comforting us in our struggles, until the day we turn to Him, trust Him, and allow Him to heal us and make us whole.

Just some food for thought.

Homemade Taco Seasoning

I've been waiting to share this recipe for months now. As I've said before, I only want to pass along recipes, routines, and ideas that I've personally tried and found to be better than the norm. This recipe is simply amazing. My husband noticed immediately the first time I used it and absolutely loved it. My kids didn't notice specifically what had changed, but ALL of them commented on how good dinner was that night. I think that alone makes this praiseworthy! LOL

This recipe makes enough seasoning for 1 POUND of meat. If you were to make it in multiple so as to have it on hand, it will take either a little more measuring (to figure out how much to pull out of a bulk batch for each time) OR you could put it in individual baggies to store for later use. Personally, since it only takes a few minutes to make, I just make it while the hamburger/ground turkey browns. As I usually buy my ground turkey in bulk, I most often brown all of it at once, doubling or tripling the seasoning recipe and then saving the leftover taco meat, freezing it for later use. It's a great, easy way to have some on hand for a quick meal in the future!


Homemade Taco Seasoning:

1 T. chili powder
1/4 t. garlic powder
1/4 t. onion powder
1/4 t/ crushed red pepper
1/4 t. dried oregano
1/2 t. paprika
1 1/2 t. ground cumin
1 t. salt
1 t. pepper

Mix together well. Add to already browned meat. Then add 1/3 c of water, stir, and let simmer for a few minutes! Super easy.

We have found this to be a truly yummy recipe, one that is not too spicy and not too bland. Plus, it has no preservatives or other additives--just seasoning, just good for you! I hope you love it as much as we do!

Enjoy!

13 Weeks

It's been 13 weeks today. 13 weeks since I learned my daddy was gone. 13 weeks since my world changed in ways I still don't fully comprehend. 13 weeks. In so many ways, it feels like yesterday. In so many ways, I still don't believe it's real. It's gone from gut wrenching, ugly cry pain to...well...odd really. It just feels weird. I know the reality is my dad is gone. But in so many ways, I just don't feel he is.

I remember the events of that weekend so vividly. We were busy planning for my husband's graduation and incoming family. Due to a change in the date of the graduation itself, we were spending one weekend having the graduation and the following weekend having his celebration party. We had family coming in both weekends. We were busy trying to figure out who all was coming on which weekend and where we'd put everyone to sleep.

My mom and step-dad had decided to come in on Sunday morning in time for an early lunch to celebrate Mother's Day and would stay through the graduation Monday night before heading back to KS.  My husband's mom and step-dad were coming in on Monday afternoon and would be staying for the graduation that night and leaving Tuesday morning. Daddy had decided it was most important for him to be there for the graduation itself. We thought he'd be riding with one of my brothers when one of them came in. We'd been texting back and forth about it all week, trying to solidify plans.

I spoke with him on Wednesday on my way to pick up our daughter from preschool. I was so excited to tell him about how we'd decided to home school the two younger boys. We talked for a while about our plans for school and how we were all anticipating a great year ahead. I also let him know about the commercial my husband had been asked to shoot. He was so very happy and told me to make sure I told Sean how proud he was of him. I told him I had to run in to get our daughter so I'd talk to him later. We each said "I love you bunches" and hung up the phone. That was the last time I talked to my daddy...

Two days later I texted him to let him know neither of my brothers would be able to come down for the graduation, gave him the times our moms were both coming in and told him I hoped he'd still be able to make it. Around the same time my brother also texted him to let him know he wasn't able to go. Around 4:30 that afternoon we all got a group text from daddy. It simply said "I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO ATTEND SEAN'S GRADUATION, MUCH TO MY REGRET."

It was clear from the "all caps" message that he was upset. Was he angry? Was he disappointed? Did he, dear God, did he think there wouldn't be room? That he wouldn't be wanted there? That he was insignificant enough that he wouldn't be missed??? These are the horrible, heart wrenching things running through my mind every.single.day since May 12th.

You see, after he sent that text that day, he turned off his phone. He never turned it back on. I have no idea what he did for the 41 hours between the time he sent that last text message until he breathed his last breath. I have no idea what he was thinking or feeling. I know that he was likely disappointed he wouldn't make it. I know he was probably frustrated.

I just wish that wasn't how things ended. I wish...well...I don't know what I wish. I wish I knew how to handle this better. I wish I knew how to move on easier. I wish I knew how to let myself grieve. Unfortunately, I've kind of put myself on auto-pilot, going through the motions of every day life, the dealings of a family of 6, wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend. I've been going going going, moving from one thing to another, afraid that if I stop long enough to allow myself to feel anything, that I may never recover...

You see, I'm a daddy's girl. Always have been. And I just don't know how to keep going without him in my life. I keep wanting to text him, to call him, to check on him to see how he's feeling, to see what he's up to, to tell him something funny or awesome about one of the kids. I just want more time. I want more.

As hard as this is, as impossible as it seems to get through, one thing I know for certain. I have no idea how I would even be doing as well as I am if I didn't have the peace of knowing I'll see my daddy again. I can't imagine not resting in the assurance of his salvation. Even though I cannot see it now, I know in my heart this too shall pass. I know that little by little, day by day, I will begin to feel like myself again. I know that, some day, while a piece of my heart will still be missing, it won't hurt as badly as it does now. I know that someday I'll be able to look at my children, my nieces and nephews, my siblings and my husband, and smile...knowing how daddy would've loved to be there.

For now, I cling to the hope I have in Christ, the future I will have with my daddy in heaven one day. And although the majority of me is still just trying to hold it together, trying not to lose it, trying to get by, a small part of me is rejoicing as I picture my daddy, fully enjoying his new found time in the presence of our Savior. That helps me smile.

When I Nearly Threw in the Towel

I can't believe it's been over a month since I've blogged. In fact, I'm not even sure what happened to the month of July. We've had a lot going on...we've traveled some, had some company, had some down time, had some work time. I can tell you every thing we've done for the last month...but I still can't believe it's already August! One of these days maybe I'll catch you up on some of our adventures, but today, I want to give you an adoption update!

Honestly, it's been rough. When we started this journey 16 months ago, I truly, naively believed we'd be home from China by now, holding our daughter and learning how to add another member to our family. In fact, in all of the scenarios I played in my head, having us still waiting to even be matched with a child at this point was never one of them. But I'm realizing that life is a journey, and God's plans are not our plans. I may never understand, this side of heaven, why this is playing out the way it is, but one thing I do know: no matter what I think is best, His ways are better than I ever imagined.

That being said, believing something in your head and feeling it at the core of who you are, many times, can be two different things. The last few months, waiting and waiting and waiting some more, not really knowing the process just knowing our daughter's file wasn't ready...it began to wear on me. I began to doubt. I began to wonder if, while waiting for her, we should just "run over and get a second child" so at least we'd be doing something, able to love on someone, while we wait for her. I even began emailing my husband pics of other children who are waiting, suggesting we go over now for one of them, thinking maybe we should just adopt two while we are over there (you know, save on airline fees of two trips, lol), etc. I'm pretty sure he thought I was almost certifiable. But, loving husband that he is, he was patient, he was kind. He just reassured me that he was confident in where we are.

(On a somewhat side note, I believe I've mentioned on here that faith is my spiritual gift. It most definitely is. However, I'm learning the one area where this gifting is not as strong is when it comes to my children! Definitely something to work on...)

There have been so many road blocks, so many times where we just.didn't.know. what we needed to. We've been in this waiting phase for so long, while I "watch" others in my adoption groups online come in after me, get matched, go get their child and come home. It's a blessing to watch their stories unfold and share in their joy and learn from their journeys. But it is also so heart-wrenchingly difficult. I just keep thinking, "We are here, ready for this child. She is there, ready for parents. WHY is this so difficult to accomplish?!?!" And that is where my faith grew weak, my questions grew stronger, and the doubt crept in. I began to wonder if I was ready to throw in the towel and just ask our agency to look for another referral...

Instead, I emailed our contact, who is gradually becoming a friend, to see if there was something, anything she knew about our little girl's paperwork process. She emailed back with what is possibly the best news we've had outside of finding out her name and DOB! Not only did her paperwork head off to the Provincial headquarters in June (which likely means it's at the main headquarters, file complete, ready to be handed out!!) BUT she also told us that in the last few months, the other agency, the one who has a partnership with our daughter's area, who could likely get her file, who was our BIGGEST hurdle (bc if they did, it was over, we'd never get her file, as they don't transfer them to other agencies)...THEY NO LONGER HAVE THAT PARTNERSHIP!!!! They no longer receive the majority of referrals from that area!!!! Our chances of actually getting or finding her file just increased dramatically!!!! PRAISE JESUS!!!

Now, I will not say that this makes things easy, because we still have a lot to do to actually get her file. It is still an uphill battle. We still will need God to work miracles in order for this to happen. But we have surpassed one of 3 great hurdles that could keep us from getting her! We are in a better position than we've ever been in our process! And I...well I have renewed hope. Just when I nearly threw in the towel and questioned everything I'd believed to be true about this process up til now...God moved a mountain for us, for little 'ol me. I said it on FB, but quite honestly, after months of basically faking it, trying to plug into life when all I wanted to do was be alone and cry, I honestly, truly had a great day. Life, for that moment, felt normal. It was such a blessing.

So after discussing it with my husband, and gathering as much information as we could, we took another step of faith. We asked our agency to petition our daughter's government for her file. We'd been told before we should only ask ONE more time. We did. So we wait. And pray and pray and pray. The new "list" comes out late this evening. If our agency hasn't heard back on her file, they will be searching the list for it, hoping that if we don't find it that it wasn't there yet, rather than that someone else got it before we could. Once again, I will be a basket case today...trying to keep myself busy.

Will you please pray with us? Join us in petitioning our Father on behalf of the daughter we so desperately want to bring home. Pray her file truly is there. Pray for softened hearts in her government officials. Pray we either receive or find her file this week. And please, please, pray for peace...peace in our hearts for whichever path God takes us on next in this journey to our little girl.

It's The Little Things

So from time to time, little things remind me of my daddy. Sometimes they make my heart ache...a physical, painful ache that leaves me needing to put my hand over my heart and just weep. They are difficult, sometimes random, but I know they are completely normal and I believe they are gradually healing my heart.

For example, one that I was not expecting at all: the end of the military honors portion of daddy's graveside service. I thought at this point I was all ugly-cried out. I mean, I knew more tears would come, but I thought, at least for the day, that my ugly cries were behind me. As we drove into the cemetery, the Air Force Servicemen were already there. As daddy's casket arrived in the hearse, they stood at attention and slowly saluted. It was so beautiful. I cried some there, but not the ugly cry...yet. Then they stood at attention as daddy's pastor spoke. They began to fold the flag--such a beautiful, silent scene as they treated the flag, and daddy's casket with the utmost care. They played Taps, which was hard to listen to and made tears fall again. And then it happened. I knew it was coming. My brothers had decided that, with me being the oldest and the only girl, the flag should be presented to me. I knew that would be hard. What I didn't expect was HOW they would present it.

The Airman turned toward me where I sat, got down on one knee, placed the flag in my hand and gently but firmly held his hands over mine on the top and bottom of the folded flag. He then, looking me straight in the eye without flinching at all, said the following:

"On behalf of the President of the United States, and a grateful nation, we thank you for the service of your loved one..."

I barely heard the rest. I have no idea how he held it together. My face was contorted in an attempt to keep from wailing as the tears streamed down my face and sobs wracked my body, causing my chest and shoulders to convulse. It was so incredibly beautiful. There are no other words. It was a moment I will never forget...

There are other things though, that make me smile and some even make me laugh out loud. Like the day I saw a Model A or Model T (Daddy would've known which one it was) as I was leaving our neighborhood. He always loved those things. Or before daddy's funeral when I was on the phone with the VA discussing his military benefits. One of the things they said we would receive was a Certificate of Honorable Service (or something like that). I was about to start crying on the phone as the lady was saying this until she uttered the words..."signed by the President himself"...at which point it was all I could do not to die laughing.

If you knew my father at all, you understand why this would be so funny. As some of you don't, let me enlighten you. My father was an American Patriot through and through. He loved his country. He believed in it's Constitution and the freedom so many have fought and died for. But, like most Americans at different times, he didn't care at all for the current President. We've all been there--no matter what your party affiliate.  So I'm sure you can see the humor I found in the fact that the last presentation for his honor will be signed by a president he didn't like. LOL. I could almost hear him laughing with me. It was good to laugh.

All this to say, I find myself noticing, not the big things--although they are equally as good--but the little things. The daily things that make me smile or cry, that make me miss him, want to call or text him. It's all still very surreal, even now. It's been nearly 2 months and sometimes I find I have to remind myself that he's gone. Other times I find my heart aches all day long. But God is good. I know this full well. So for now I enjoy the little things that stir my heart, knowing that whether they bring smiles or tears, they ultimately also bring healing.

Lifelong Dream--Check

There are times in our lives when we allow ourselves to dream. I don't mean the daily, little dreams. I mean the big, chance-of-a-lifetime dreams. You know, just like the ones you have as a kid, when you're innocent enough to believe the sky is the limit--the time before "life" has happened, has changed you and your dreams. All too often as adults, I believe, we fail to dream that way. We let our circumstances determine our future instead of the other way around. We allow ourselves to settle, to accept that this is our lot in life, that big dreams and big opportunities are only for other people.

But sometimes, dreams creep in and firmly take hold in the back of our minds. Sometimes, when we are honest with ourselves, we allow those dreams to come out of the recesses of our souls. We allow them to dance and play in our hearts. We allow ourselves to dream as a child once again. I believe it is in those rare moments that we are truly our REAL selves. And sometimes, we are blessed enough to see those dreams become a reality.

This last weekend was one of those times for my husband. A number of years ago, he took an interest in learning to play poker. It's a hobby of his, just like playing golf. And he's gotten really good at it. I'm always amazed at how quickly he can calculate his odds, figure out the number of "outs" he has, the "pot" ratios and make a move in any given hand. Meanwhile (if I'm playing too which is rare, as I'm NOT as skilled, LOL) I'm still trying to figure out what I even have and if it's a "good" hand or not! My husband has even, in more recent years, formed a poker league with a regular group of guys that meet every month. They rotate between 3 different houses, have a system of game rotation, and even take a "rake" of each poker night to be held back for the end of the year tournament. I'm telling ya, they are serious! But they have such a great time and we've truly been blessed by this great group of guys and their families. They even held a fundraiser poker tournament for our adoption! But anyway...

Back when we had cable (which we really don't miss btw, but that's a whole other story!) Sean enjoyed the times he could watch the World Series of Poker (WSOP) and follow the months long tournament to the "Main Event" and final table. He even read bios on some of the players! It's cute.  :)

He spoke regularly of his dream to play in the WSOP. He even had my daddy saying he was gonna save money to bankroll his entry some day (a buy-in to the main event is 10K!! Sheesh. Yeah, NOT in our budget!). It's been a long held dream. One that he's mentioned in some of his quieter moments...when he's allowing himself time to drift away from the everyday and be that kid again.

As a graduation gift for getting his MBA, his parents took us to Las Vegas for an extended weekend. We hadn't been there since 2004 (and that was on business) so we were excited to go. We were also looking forward to getting away as adults for just a bit, especially after all of the events of the last month. My parents were gracious enough to come watch the kids while we were gone.

Low and behold, the FIRST night we were there, Sean noticed an article in a magazine mentioning that the WSOP WAS GOING ON RIGHT NOW.  We all agreed it'd be cool to go over to the Rio and just look around, to get a feel for what it was like. But when we got there, we realized that there were tournaments going on and starting and ending all. weekend. long.  Now Sean's parents had already said they wanted to pay for him to play in a tournament in Vegas because they knew how much he'd enjoy it. We never thought it would work out to play in a WSOP tournament! But hey, lifelong dreams don't come up all the time!

He debated all of the different options for tournaments, and finally settled on a Hold'em Deep Stack tournament. It was to start at 10pm! He could've played in one that would lead to another and another and possibly end up at the main event in July. However, that would require him to play all weekend long. Since we wanted to sight see and spend time with his parents, that wasn't going to work. And since that wasn't why we'd come, it wasn't really even appealing. But he WAS excited about playing in a one-time tournament.

Long story short, he did AWESOME! We left the Rio at 6AM the next morning! Yes, that's 8 HOURS of playing. Every 2 hours they'd get a 20 minute break. He ended up at the final table of 9 people (out of 170 people who started!) and they decided it'd been long enough and opted to "chop" the winnings at that point. 1st place got $3500, 2nd got $2500 and everyone else got $1200!!! The buy-in was only $135, so that's nearly a 10x return on investment! He finished in the top 5% when his average has been the top 10%. And he got to fulfill a lifelong dream to play at the WSOP...at those tables, on that floor, where he'd watched all the pros and other people play for years.

I couldn't help but think Daddy would've been so proud! I know Sean's parents and I were! We spent the rest of the weekend hanging out, seeing Ray Romano live, eating food that is now requiring a detox LOL, and generally just having an amazing time. We are so blessed by our amazing parents who allowed us to go by watching our kids and who paid for us to go and for Sean to play!! It truly was a great trip. 
Lifelong dream--CHECK!  :)

Bittersweet

I haven't posted an adoption update on here for a while because, well, there's really nothing to post. We haven't even had contact with our agency in over a month. That's not a bad thing. There just hasn't been a need. We are waiting for this specific little girl to be "paperwork ready" and are not interested in looking at other children in the mean time because we feel we've been led to THIS specific child. Our agency knows this. And both sides realize it will be a number of months until she is ready. So there's no need to do anything other than wait at this point.

At first, when we found out in April that it would be considerably longer than we'd expected, I was upset. I didn't understand why God was having us wait when we'd willingly jump on the next available plane if given the chance. I still don't understand why God allows certain things to happen the way that He does.

Now, almost two months later, I know that, in part, He is preparing me to be the best mom I can be for her. And He knew that right now, as much as I'd like to be, I would not be ready to handle bringing her home. He knew my time with my dad was short. He knew the days, hours and minutes he had left. He knew that, although I would trust in His plan no matter what, I would still be utterly lost at this point. He knew I would not be ready. So God, in His wisdom, in His divine providence, allowed me to wait longer.

None of this is what I would choose. Every single thing that I hold to be true is being tested. Every belief re-examined. I've never been in this situation before, losing someone so close to me. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. But in the deepest part of my soul, I know I am being refined. I am being given the opportunity to question everything I've ever believed--and finding it all to be very real, very true. Some of the things I've been forced to reconsider:

Is God truly in control?

Does God really work for my good in ALL situations?

Is it possible to go on after losing someone so dear?

Do I still firmly believe that HOW we die is inconsequential, but WHEN we die was laid out before we were ever born?

Does God take people only when they are done with their purpose here on earth?

Will I ever get to a point where I once again feel like I'm enjoying life rather than just getting through each day?

Do I trust that God knows best, even when I never got to say goodbye?

Is God truly who He says He is?

Do I still believe God is good ALL the time?


These are only a few of the things I've been pondering the last 3 weeks. There's too much to list here. They come up at random times, random places. Sometimes they give me pause, sometimes they bring me to tears, sometimes they leave me angry. But the resounding answer to EVERY. SINGLE. ONE, every time? YES. YES. YES. YES.

I still believe every single thing I've ever held to be true, even though life is extremely hard for me right now.

And I'm finding that God's provision goes beyond any one incident, to weave together a plan bigger than we could ever imagine.

You see, I have things to work through, things to settle in my heart before I can give our youngest daughter the attention she deserves, before I can be there for her wholly. I need time to heal. God is using this to draw me closer to Him, to bring me to a place of utter dependence on Him, on His timing, on His plan...not my own.

And all through this, God is providing. Giving me a family who is patient with my healing, friends who know exactly what I need to hear at exactly the right time, a summer schedule that allows me the freedom to heal at a slower, more complete pace than school time would allow. He's flooding my mind with happy memories, little reminders of all that Daddy was to me.

And God, in all His wisdom, is allowing Daddy to provide for his new granddaughter, who he SO wanted to meet, even after his death. You see, friends, the remainder of Daddy's life insurance is going directly into our adoption fund. It's an amount he could never have given while he was alive, as he was a man of little means. But if he'd had it, he would've gladly given it. He wanted to meet her, to hold her, to tell her all about his Jesus who loves her.  Since he will not meet her this side of heaven, the next best thing we can do is to honor him in this way. He would LOVE to know he is having such a big impact, that some good is coming from our loss. It is bittersweet for me.

A friend posted this on her blog a while back and it is ringing so true today:

Sweet is nice enough.
But bittersweet is beautiful, nuanced, full of depth & complexity.
Bittersweet is courageous, gutsy, earthy.
                      --Shauna Niequist

It's Not Goodbye

I wrote the following piece for Daddy's funeral. Somehow, I managed to defy the odds and get through the whole thing myself, although I'll admit I didn't look up and simply read what I'd written. My brothers also managed to play their guitars and sing. I am SO proud of them. Daddy would've absolutely loved it. He was so proud of them learning to play the guitar and enjoyed every time he got to hear them play. He would've had tears in his eyes and a huge smile on his face listening to them that day. It was nothing short of amazing. I followed shortly after with this:

How do you put into words how you feel about the first man to ever hold your heart? My friend, my hero, my teacher, my guide, my fixer-of-all-things...my daddy. He held my hand, taught me to ride a bike, taught me to drive, taught me how to change my oil and change a tire. He encouraged me to try new things, to stand on my own two feet, to believe in myself, to never give up. He showed me the beauty in God's creation and convinced me that there is value and worth in every human being. He taught me to live life to the fullest and to take advantage of every moment I have left on this earth. He told me he loved me, told me I was beautiful, told me I was his princess.  And he always reminded me to share the love of Jesus with everyone I meet and to keep a smile on my face. 

Many things could be said about my daddy, about his hard-headedness, his love for chatting about Jesus and politics for hours on end. And while I may not remember all of you when I see you today, chances are I could tell you a story about each of you. Daddy loved to tell stories. But of all the things I could say about my dad, of all the things I could leave you with to remember him by, I think the most important thing was that he was passionate. He knew what he believed and he wasn't afraid to share it with anyone who would listen. How many of us truly live life with passion and conviction? I can only hope I can be half as passionate in the time I have left as my daddy was. 

I am so very grateful for the last 4 1/2 years we had, knowing that his time was limited. We were forced to focus on the important rather than the trivial and to embrace every moment we had together. I am also grateful that God granted Daddy his last wish, which was to go peacefully, in his sleep, just like his Uncle Ira had done. 

While my heart is utterly broken and there will forever be a part of me missing; while right now I don't know how I'll get through tomorrow, let alone the rest of my life without him, I have peace in knowing I will see him again in heaven because he gave his heart to Jesus. I love you, Daddy, more than words can say. This is not "goodbye", just "see ya later".

For the last week, I've had so many emotions. Hurt, despair, anger, frustration, confusion, pain. Now I'm simply numb. I seem, at this point, to be past the ugly cry and the weepiness. Now I find myself trying to remember that he's truly gone, reminding myself that he really won't be calling or texting or emailing soon. I often catch myself lost in deep thought, memories of times with Daddy flooding my mind. I can feel his hugs, feel the roughness of his weathered skin as he holds my hand, hear his voice as he says, "Hiiii, baby!" when we see each other after a few weeks apart. I keep thinking that someone has made a mistake and I'm going to wake up soon.  It just seems so unreal.  So I have to remind myself that it is, in fact, very real.

His service was unbelievably beautiful. From the video of pictures that told his life story, set on a background of music he loved, to the many things people shared, to my brothers singing. Even the gut-wrenching ugly cry that came, once again, as the Air Force went through the Military Honors portion of his graveside service and presented me with his flag...it was utterly beautiful and demonstrated, not a perfect life, but a life made perfect by the love of a redeeming God.

And he left a video. Back in January he'd made an hour long video of his life story. An HOUR long. 60 full minutes we have of watching our Dad, of hearing his voice. Video that will forever keep him alive, keep him present, both for us and for our children as we grieve his loss. I have no doubt it will be a huge comfort in those days and hours and moments when we are missing him terribly. I am SO thankful he did that. SO incredibly thankful.

I've been avoiding the radio for the last week. Music is a huge part of my life. It reaches the depths of who I am and allows me to bear my soul. But since daddy died, I think I've been on emotion overload and therefore trying to avoid anything that would bring more emotion to the surface. Two days ago, though, I allowed myself to to flip through the channels, hoping that nothing too deep would be playing. I realized a new Carrie Underwood song was playing, so I turned it up. It ended up being just what I needed to hear. It was refreshing and comforting to my hurting heart and there was so much truth in the words she sang. I believe it will be a song I listen to for years to come. It's called "See You Again".

Said goodbye,
Turned around and you were gone, gone, gone...
Faded into the setting sun,
Slipped away.
But I won't cry 'cause I know,
I'll never be lonely,
For you are the stars to me,
You are the light I follow.
I will see you again, woah.
This is not where it ends.
I will carry you with me, oh...
Til I see you again.
I can hear those echos in the wind at night
Calling me in time, back to you.
In a place far away where the water meets the sky,
The thought of it makes me smile.
You were my tomorrow.
I will see you again, woah.
This is not where it ends.
I will carry you with me, oh...
Til I see you again.
Sometimes I feel my heart is breaking...
But I stay strong and I hold on
Cause I know...
I will see you again, woah.
This is not where it ends.
I will carry you with me, yeah yea
I will see you again, woah.
This is not where it ends.
I will carry you with me, oh...
Til I see you again.
Til I see you again.
Said goodbye, turned around and you were gone, gone, gone.

Til I see you again, Daddy...

4 and a Half Years Ago...

I'm re-posting the following from Feb. 17, my Daddy's birthday this year.  Many of you already know I lost my daddy a week ago Sunday. It's been a long, hard week, but we are getting through it one day at a time. Tomorrow I will share what I said at his funeral on Thursday.

**WARNING** Extremely emotional post to follow.

4 1/2 years ago, in October, I was excitedly expecting the birth of my first daughter in a matter of months. I was working part time at a preschool that I loved and my life was simply amazing. I had turned 30 the year before and had received THE BEST birthday present ever. My daddy had told me a few weeks after my birthday that he had quit smoking a month earlier. He had smoked for over 50 years, people. This was a BIG DEAL. And it had been one of my heart's deepest desires, one of my most fervent prayers, the hope of a little girl for her daddy to give up his life-threatening bad habit. Finally, it had happened, and so unexpectedly.

So I got a call in October a year later (back to 4 1/2 years ago) from my dad late one night. Through tears, more for my sake than his own fear, my daddy told me he'd thought he had pneumonia so he went to the doctor. He walked away from an ER visit with the assumption of the ER doctor that he needed more testing, but likely had lung cancer. LUNG CANCER. It wasn't completely unexpected, given his recently ended habit, but it was still just as hard to hear. We cried together. I called my baby brother to let him know dad was trying to reach him. He also called our middle brother. The news devastated us all. He said he was going to the VA in the morning for a second opinion because he was not impressed with the vague answers he got at the local hospital.

After discussing it with my husband that night, I decided I would make the 3 1/2 hour drive to the VA to be there with my dad in the morning. I had no idea how long I would be staying. I just knew I needed to be there. When I walked in the following morning, I had gotten there just in time. My dad and my aunt were waiting to get into his appointment. Only there was a problem. The Dr had been unexpectedly called out for a family emergency. They wanted my dad to be seen the following day instead. I stepped into the discussion, pleading for an appointment that day, explaining my father needed answers and was clearly in need of a doctor. He hadn't even been able to walk in to the ER from the parking lot because his breathing was too labored. He had been sitting in a wheel chair while waiting and although he was exerting no energy, he was still unable to breathe. The triage nurse said it was a no-go. He'd have to wait. I told her fine, we'd walk down to the ER instead. After much arguing and not giving up on our part, she finally said she'd "take his stats, and if they warranted it, let us go to the ER." Needless to say, his Pulse-Ox was only 82% rather than the 90+ it should've been. Idiot nurse finally did her job and sent us to the ER. Little brothers joined me and my aunt in waiting for answers. When I got to go back to see my dad, the Dr came in and asked if he'd ever had a heart attack. He answered that he'd never had one, but the Dr assured him he was having one at that moment. He was sent to ICU. Over the next few hours tests were run and he was told he'd be transferred to St Francis to see a specialist. Tests showed he had actually had numerous "silent" heart attacks over a period of probably years and may need bypass surgery. My brothers and I had grabbed supper while we waited for the paperwork and transfer. We got to St Francis and were met by the chaplain who wanted me to sign paperwork to become my dad's Medical Power of Attorney in case he was incapacitated and couldn't make decisions. Dad needed to sign before going under sedation. Real life decisions hit REAL quick. The reality of being an adult, the oldest in the family, and a future of possibly making life and death decisions for one of my parents sucker-punched me in the gut.

Over the next week, my dad was determined not to be a candidate for bypass. They opted for placing stints instead to open up his arteries. He had a total of 3 of them placed. After the surgery, the Dr told us one of his major arteries was 100% blocked (leaving part of his heart muscle dead), one was 60% blocked and one was 40% blocked. He had been functioning on only 15% of his heart. They said if he had gone home the first day instead of to the ER, he wouldn't be here. **Insert future plan to write Cardiologist at VA letter about the asinine triage nurse.** After the hospital stay, dad stayed with my aunt for a few days then came to stay with us for 2 weeks while he recovered and adjusted to life on medication as well as a new diet. A few months later, he received his diagnosis of Congestive Heart Failure, as well as a prognosis of 5-10 years...

Long post, I realize, but I wanted to give you the back story. Today my daddy turns 72. Today it has been 4 1/2 years. My daddy was given a second chance. I don't know how accurate the 5-10 year prognosis is or how much time we have left. He is doing as well as can be expected now and taking better care of himself in order to have as long as possible. So today, I'm thankful. I'm thankful for medical professionals who know what they're doing. I'm thankful we were persistent with the one who didn't so he could be seen. I'm thankful my daddy was around to meet my first daughter, and, God-willing, that he'll be here when we bring our second one home from China this summer. I'm thankful for celebrating his 70th with him and making a big deal of him that day. I'm thankful, believe it or not, for the CHF forcing us to realize, you can't take life for granted. You can't assume you have forever. You can't live in the past and you can't predict the future. But you CAN live today, in the here and now. You CAN tell those you love how much you love them. You CAN live life intentionally, on purpose. So today, I celebrate my daddy. The man I've looked up to my whole life. The man who never let me forget I was his princess. The man who let me know he had my back, no matter what, until the day he handed that job over to my husband and became my back-up.  ;)  I'm thankful for the time I've been given so far and for whatever time remains.  I'm thankful for second chances. Happy Birthday to the first man to ever hold my heart! I love you more than words Daddy!

The Long Road Home

I've been rather quiet lately regarding our adoption. It wasn't really intentional, although I believe it may have been a subconscious way of avoiding on my part. We're in the phase of adoption where we truly are at the mercy of the system...a backwards, confusing and sometimes very frustrating system.

I want to be clear though. We are BLESSED. We should NOT have any information on our daughter at this point. She's not technically even in the system. Yet, by God's grace, we continue to get bits and pieces of information, some big, some small--but ALL blessings.

We got word last week that she's further behind in the "process" of becoming adoptable than we had previously thought. Based on where she currently is, and judging from the journeys others have been on at the same point in the process, it could easily be another 6 months before her file is even ready--before she's officially adoptable. And from the time we get matched, with any child, the average time is 4-6 months before we get to travel to get her. SO...add those up. Yep. It could easily be another YEAR before we are able to hold our little girl. Now you can understand why I've been rather quiet.

Part of me is heartbroken and physically pained when I consider another entire year of not having my daughter home. Yet part of me is extremely grateful that, if we must wait, at least we wait knowing that she's in foster care...she's in a family home setting and not an orphanage where cribs line the walls and open spaces and the children are institutionalized. She is safe and loved and happy. Still another part of me asks Why? Why must we wait this long when we love her so much? When we'd gladly leave TOMORROW to get her if it was possible? Why is THIS the process for us when we sit back and watch so many others have a straight-forward, "typical" international adoption?

And yet (and I know we've said this time and again) she's worth every pain, every frustration, every discomfort, every piece of paperwork...all of it...including the wait. No matter how long it takes, no matter what we must go through, no matter how many people tell us "maybe it's time to look at other children"...we will wait. You may not understand or you may just think we're nuts, but she's our daughter. It's that simple.

So she's clearly taking the long road home. Not by anyone's choice. Not by anyone's preference. Not even to anyone's understanding. Only God, in His infinite wisdom, knows why this is the road we are on, the road she is on. Maybe it will be clear someday. Maybe we'll never know this side of heaven. Either way, we continue to wait, to hope, to pray.

We covet your prayers during this time. Some days are easier than others. Some days are horrible. If we come to mind on any given day, please stop to say a prayer for us. It may just be one of those days we desperately need it.  :)

Nausea

It's that feeling you get when you're ill. The one when you feel like you could throw up at any moment. It's also the one you get when you're so wrapped up in the emotion of a situation that you don't know your head from a hole in the wall. It's the frustration of being helpless to do anything. Just sitting and waiting and waiting and sitting. You try to find ways to fill the time, but it doesn't matter. It's always there. That feeling.

That's where we're at right now. I would love to tell you that it's all candy and roses and counting the days. But the truth is, it's ugly and raw and hopeless and painful and stressful and frustrating and crazy and long and difficult and exhausting. Fighting for a child you know in your heart is your daughter...a child you've only seen in pictures...a child half a world away in need of her Mommy and Daddy and family.  Doing all you can on your end to get to her as fast as possible while it seems as though everyone else that has a job to do in the process is dragging their feet. Having SO MANY THINGS fall into place, answers to specific prayers, everything looking so positive and so hopeful...only to reach a point where you feel you're the ONLY ones still believing this will ever happen, the only ones fighting to get to her, while others have just given up and stopped trying.

You want to scream. Cry. Throw something. Hit someone. Show up in person to get your questions answered. GET ON A FREAKING PLANE AND FLY TO CHINA!!!!!! At this point, they all seem better than what you can do...which is wait. Which seems like nothing.

The truth is, we are not right. We don't feel right. We don't look right (to ourselves). Because our family is not complete. One of us is missing. It's the very real, very open and gaping hole in who we are now. Although Mei Mei has never been "with" us, she's now very much a part of us--of all of us. The only way I can describe it and even possibly have you understand is this:  It's the same way you feel when someone in your family has gone on a trip, even an overnight stay. You look around and everything is there--except them. And while it all functions well and everyone is okay, nothing is truly right. It's just off somehow. Because the absence of the other person is almost palpable. You can feel it in your soul.

So I don't want to worry you or scare you. We are okay. We are getting by. Some days are easier than others. Some days, like today, just SUCK. This is adoption. Good and bad, joy and sorrow, beauty and pain. As I've said so many times before. It's RAW. And although I feel at times like I may go completely insane before this process is complete, I know...in my heart, in my soul, at the core of my being...that it is worth every day of grief and heartache. SHE is worth it.

We covet your prayers at this time for our family. Prayers for peace, for comfort, for direction, for patience--we need it all! Thank you friends. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.

Rosalie

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was sitting in church dreading the call I knew was coming. I cried through every song and much of the sermon, although I couldn't tell you what it was about. It was a few hours later when I was at home that it came. The call. "She's gone" is all I heard...

There are 3 women in my life (so far) who have had a major influence on the woman I've become. My grandmother was one of them. In some ways it feels as though it was just yesterday she was making Christmas dinner, laughing, telling stories. In others, it feels like much more than the 9 years it's really been.

Words seem to fail me now as I try to paint a picture of the woman I called "Grandma". My heart longs for you to fully understand the person that she was, the person I wish so many of you knew, the person I wish with all my heart my daughters knew. Kind, gracious, strong, unwavering, selfless, sacrificial, loving, focused, filled with integrity, gentleness and a heart the size of Texas...that was my Grandma. I'll never understand how she could look at someone, anyone, and love them so deeply, so genuinely, from the start. It didn't matter what you'd done in life, she saw your potential. She saw your gifts. She truly saw Jesus in others. And that's how she treated them. She loved them. I know. Because she loved me.

I was not of her bloodline. According to the world, I was her "step-granddaughter". And I wasn't even that until I was 12 years old. But there was nothing "step" about our relationship. We were Grandmother and granddaughter through and through. If I had ever doubted that, she cleared it up right quick the day I mouthed off to my mom when she grabbed me by the ear and informed me that's "not the way to speak to your mother."  LOL. Did I mention she was also strict??  ;)

She and my Grandpa adopted my step-dad (also not a "step" relationship, but a father-daughter relationship) and his brother, then went on to have 5 children by birth, THEN went on to have numerous foster children over the years. Every single child, young or old, knew from the minute they walked through the door, they were family. To this day you never know who will show up for family gatherings because they all know they are still welcome. My grandma (and my grandpa) had a way of loving others that I'm not sure I fully understand even now, so many years later. And it has changed the way I live my life.

She taught me hard work, the value of family, forgiveness, how to genuinely love other people, the joys of a large family, the beauty of a special needs family, the magnificence of an adoptive family, the special bond that can exist between a grandmother and granddaughter, and SO. MUCH. MORE. She taught me what it was to be the hands and feet of Jesus to those around you.

I miss her. Every day I have yet another question for her about adoption. Every day I laugh at the antics of my children and I can still hear her laugh, as though she were right here with us. What I wouldn't give for one more day with her, for one more hug, one more story.

So go hug your grandma today for me...because time is short, and life is precious. One day, I will see her again because she gave her heart to Jesus long ago. But until that time comes, I do my best to keep her memory alive for my boys, to share stories of her life with my girls, and to be even half the woman of God she was every day of her life.

My only candid picture of just me & Grandma

Rosalie Ann Thiessen

Aug 6, 1932---April 11, 2004

At The Core

I am NOT a morning person. I'm not. Never have been. I am a late night person. I don't care what time I have to get up, I cherish the quiet time at the end of the day, after 9pm when all the kids are sleeping. I will read, catch up on TV shows, craft, WHATEVER I FEEL LIKE! It is bliss. It's my "me time". And I love it. At the core of who I am, I am not a morning person.

However, this morning my newly-teen-aged son asked if I'd get up and fix him breakfast before testing at school. Normally, my boys are fully capable of getting up and getting their own breakfast, and I sleep in a bit and get up with sister around 7:30. But I also don't feel comfortable with them using the stove without an adult present, so the idea of letting them make their own eggs while I got a bit more sleep was enough to make me set the alarm earlier.

I was up at 6:30 so that my oldest would have time for breakfast as his bus leaves just after 7am. Can I tell you something?? I got SO much done!! I made his breakfast and chatted with him til he left, then had time for my morning cup of coffee and a protein shake before the other boys got up. I made their breakfasts as well, got myself dressed and waited for sister to wake up. Once she had breakfast she was ready to get dressed for school. The little boys asked if I could take them to school rather than having them ride the bus because they didn't wanna wait in the rain. AND I OBLIGED!! Now, don't get me wrong here. I don't mind taking the boys to school. And I know this may not be some major feat for you regular moms out there, but for those of us who truly struggle to drag ourselves out of bed every morning?? Yeah, me doing all this without hesitation is HUGE, people. And to top it all off--sister wasn't late for school!!! This, I believe, was my crowning glory of the morning as we are usually late for preschool. Honestly, I'm usually late for, well, everything. LOL. It's not something I'm proud of, but it is reality, so I try to at least own it.

Well now that I've truly bored you with my not-so-spectacular, normal-day-for-everyone-else story, I will say this. I think I'm onto something. LOL. At least for me! You may not be able to understand if you are already a morning person, but for those of us that are not, as I said before, this is truly a struggle. I still don't like the idea, but with as much as I've gotten done today, I'd say it's worth another shot...or two.  ;)

Celebrating

Today is bittersweet. It's Mei Mei's birthday. You know, that one we shouldn't know about? Yeah, it's today. She's 1. Technically, it was last night (China time). I thought about her as I got ready for bed last night. I wonder if they're celebrating her over there.

I know she's in a foster home (HUGE blessing) with a few other children. That means she has a family-type setting rather than an orphanage setting. In so many orphanages over there, the beds are lined up side by side in large rooms, babies left in their cribs for hours on end--out of necessity, due to only a few workers being on hand at a time. Her being in a foster home means her attachment to us should be easier when the time comes. So that's a blessing!

It's hard not being able to celebrate with her, but we most definitely will be celebrating her here. Our kids are already head over heels in love with her. They've asked multiple times why we can't just fly over today and get her. :)  I'm so thankful that they are excited. It would be so easy in a family of 4 children to not be thrilled about adding another. We talked to our children at length before beginning this process...making sure they were all on board. From the beginning they were ecstatic! They weren't worried about sharing rooms or toys or time...they just wanted to know how soon we could get her. My kids are amazing. And I love how genuinely they love others.

Today is not only a day to celebrate Mei Mei, however. It's also a day to remember that this is the last birthday she will spend without her forever family. The day of her birth and her first birthday are a small price to pay to celebrate all of the others with her. I look forward to those birthdays, those milestones, and all the everyday days in between with her. In the meantime, we'll celebrate her here, on the other side of the globe.

Here's to turning 1, sweet girl. Mama's coming.

Strangely Dim

I swear I could write about 150 blog posts on this whole adoption thing and each one would be a different topic. Sometimes the days run together, other times each day seems to bring something new. I feel like I'm on an emotional roller coaster most days. The waiting is hard...harder than I imagined. I have no idea how hard it will be once we have a specific file and know that we are simply counting down the days til we hold our little girl.

I've been using the term "raw" in a number of posts lately. But it's the only word I have found that accurately describes how I feel on so many things. It's literally like an open wound and when something comes near it, it burns from being so...raw, so laid bare.

When I was pregnant with our other 4 children, while I couldn't control the details of what was going on inside me, I could definitely control things like diet, exercise, stress...all those things that would be poor contributors to my child. But adoption is so much different. There's this piece of me that exists in the form of a little girl half way around the world. I can't touch her, hold her, comfort her, bathe her, feed her, see her or hear her. There is absolutely nothing I can do for her.

All I can do is wait. Wait and pray. Pray that she's safe. Pray that she's fed. Pray that she's warm. Pray that she's held. Pray that she's loved.

Sometimes I find myself going through these Facebook groups for those adopting, searching out information. It's a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it's awesome to connect with other parents who are in the same boat, who can fully appreciate exactly what we're going through and lend advice to help us. On the other hand, it can be information overload, causing me to second guess everything. Did we sign with the right agency? Why are things taking so long? Should I call somewhere else? Should I look into this or that? It's enough to drive me crazy. Today was one of those days. I'd decided I was going to make a call. I wanted more information and I wasn't willing to let the process take it's course. I was going to do the footwork myself. Forget that there's a system in place for a reason...I was on a mission.

And then I talked to my husband. :)  Am I the only one who has a marriage where when one of us is nearly going crazy, the other one is completely holding it together? That's the way it works at our house. Thankfully, God has paired me with a wise, discerning man! He talked me through my concerns and my "plan". I wasn't buying his ideas though. I still thought I knew better. But I waited. I went to the gym and ran some errands. I thought and thought and thought til I didn't wanna think about any of it anymore. I was so confused. I was so stressed out. I'm beginning to realize I might have a control issue...or two. ;)

And then this song came on the radio. Am I also the only one who hears the voice of God through music? I sure hope not! It's both beautiful and reassuring at the same time. Music has always spoken to me...whether I was a teen getting over a crush or now, when I'm a mama on a mission who is learning patience. Anyway, here is the song. I hope it speaks to you like it spoke to me...(and no, I didn't make those phone calls.)  :)

Strangely Dim
by Francesca Battistelli

I've got all these plans piled up sky high

A thousand dreams on hold

And I don't know why,

I got a front row seat

To the longest wait

And I just can't see

Past the things I pray

Today

But when I fix my eyes on all that You are

Then every doubt I feel

Deep in my heart

Grows strangely dim 

All my worries fade

And fall to the ground

Cause when I seek Your face

And don't look around

Any place I'm in

Grows strangely dim

Sometimes where I stand

On this narrow road

Is in a raging storm

Or a valley low

But oh

When I fix my eyes on all that You are

Then every doubt I feel

Deep in my heart

Grows strangely dim

All my worries fade

And fall to the ground

Cause when I seek Your face

And don't look around

Any place I'm in

Grows strangely dim

I don't know, I don't know

What tomorrow may hold

But I know, but I know

That You're holding it all

So no matter what may come

I'm gonna fix my eyes on all that You are

'Til every doubt I feel

Deep in my heart

Grows strangely dim

Let all my worries fade

And fall to the ground

I'm gonna seek Your face

And not look around

Til the place I'm in

Grows strangely, strangely, strangely dim.

I pray that somehow this means as much to you as it does to me today.

Worth Fighting For

I am on a roll this week! I don't remember the last time I've blogged every day! And yet, there is so much on my mind, so much on my heart...it's just one thing after another, and if nothing else, writing about it helps me think it all through, gain perspective, and get it off my chest!

Two days ago, I posted here about the peace we have over the decision we made not to pursue an adoption referral we received on Monday. I can't explain it, but it truly is a deep seated peace. That doesn't mean the decision was easy and it doesn't mean little things don't make me stop and think, "are we SURE we made the right decision?"

In fact, yesterday we found out we are farther away from getting the file on the specific little girl we have been praying over than we first thought. We went from believing it was likely, to being told it's a needle in a haystack situation once again...not what we wanted to hear, but still not a closed door. Add to that, today I realized that if we don't travel to get our daughter by mid-September of this year, we will need to update our home study for an additional $500 fee. Unless we are matched next month, the chances of traveling by then are slim.

Now let me be clear--we believe these are minor obstacles. We serve a BIG God. When it is time for our daughter to come home, not only will He provide the funds (even additional ones) needed to do so, but He will do so at the perfect time. I keep telling the "mama in me" that she will not arrive a day early OR a day late, but exactly when she is supposed to. Sometimes I repeat it as if it were my mantra. LOL.

It's these little things that Satan could easily use to make us doubt. To take us beyond the occasional question of "did we do the right thing?" and drive us right into a spiral of unbelief, despair, and discouragement when things don't seem to add up exactly like we'd like them to.

Back in late December, after Sean had shared with me his feeling of being drawn to this little girl, but while we still had no idea how we would get her basic info, I was feeling anxious. I was stressing out over little things, details we had no control over. He was wanting me to check here and there and (seemingly) everywhere, to do what we could on our end to get more info on her. In my discouragement, I hesitated at one point, and he could clearly tell I didn't feel calling any other places would help. He looked at me and said, "Isn't she worth fighting for?"

It took me by surprise, but yet, it brought me back to a place of belief. I had let some of those little things drag me down. I was beginning to feel discouraged and disheartened. I was beginning to doubt all of those other areas where God had clearly delivered things we could've only hoped for. Instead of focusing on how far we'd come, I was looking at how far we still had to climb.

I refocused, prayed and laid it all at the feet of Jesus, once again relinquishing control. Wouldn't you know, the day the first list came out, we not only learned her birth date, we learned her name. Once again, God delivered and He delivered HUGE! I was speechless. I was in awe.

It's times like these, when little things seem to be slowing us down. When we seem to take one step forward and two steps back, that I have to remind myself...those things worth having are worth fighting for. SHE'S worth fighting for. And until that door is closed, we will continue to fight for her. After all, we're on God's timeline, not ours. She'll be here before we know it...and right on time.  :)

Let It Be Said...

Let me first say, this is not a political blog. It's not even an opinion blog. However, with all the recent ranting, raving, arguing, and bashing going on, I just can't hold my tongue any longer. I realize, by choosing to share my opinion, I will lose some "friends". However, I feel compelled to no longer remain silent and I use the term "friends" in quotation marks simply because, if you can walk away simply due to someone else's opinion, well then, we weren't actual friends to begin with. I'm okay with that. Back to the topic...

I am a Christian. I have Christian friends. I also have Atheist friends. And Gay friends and Lesbian friends and Straight friends and friends of many, many ethnic backgrounds and belief systems; healthy friends, disabled friends, deaf friends, hearing friends, vegan friends, vegetarian friends, paleo friends, McDonalds friends :) Republican friends, Democrat friends, Libertarian friends, kind friends, rude friends, friends that make me proud and friends that seem to thrive on embarrassing me. Friends that I see eye-to-eye with on nearly everything and friends with whom I have only one place of common ground. And I love them. All of my friends. ALL OF MY FRIENDS.

But let me guess, when I described all of my different friends, you had opinions that immediately formed, correct? Some of you even formed an opinion of me. Some of you CHANGED your opinion of me. Why? Because you saw a label. You saw a label and all of your deep-seated beliefs and opinions came to the forefront of your mind. I know, because I do it too. We all do. We all label. We all judge. We do. It's (sadly) just second nature. What's even sadder than that? That we let those labels, those opinions and judgments DETERMINE HOW WE TREAT PEOPLE before we ever get to know them.

For those of you who consider yourselves Christians, I'm gonna call you out here because we SAY we hold ourselves to a different standard. Specifically, what does the Bible say on how we are to treat others?

Matt 7:12    Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets.

Matt 7:2      For you will be treated as you treat others. The standard you use in judging is the standard by which you will be judged.

Matt 7:3     And why worry about a speck in your friend's eye when you have a log in your own?

And one of my personal favorites:

1 Cor 13: 1-7
If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn't love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God's secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn't love others, I would be nothing.
If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn't love others, I would have gained nothing.
Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud
or rude. It does not demand it's own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged.
It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out.
Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

You see friends, I don't care what your beliefs are. I don't care if we agree or not. You can be the most rotten person on the planet...as long as you own up to it, we can be friends. It's called integrity. BE WHO YOU SAY YOU ARE. For my fellow Christians, Christ didn't call us to hate, to name-call, to berate, to turn a cold shoulder, to gossip, to hurt, to offend. He called us simply to LOVE. LOVE your neighbor. LOVE your enemy. And LOVE God with your whole heart. HE and HE ALONE will take care of everything else.

We are to be His ambassadors for the time He has given us on this planet. We are to REPRESENT WHO CHRIST IS. Why do so many people automatically dismiss us or hate us? Because we've screwed up directive #1, and badly! And please understand, I am as guilty of this as the rest of you--so please don't think I view myself as high and mighty here.  The truth is, WE WILL REACH NO ONE WITH THE GOSPEL OF GRACE IF WE DON'T HAVE LOVE. I don't care what your platform is, I don't care what your passionate about. If you don't do it in love--you won't get anything accomplished! And, yes I'm gonna say it, you won't do it through denying other people their basic, human rights. You won't.

You wanna discuss concerns you have with someone about their life? GET TO KNOW THEM. You want to share the love of Christ and His story of redemption? BUILD A RELATIONSHIP. We have to stop preaching and start living. We have to love people--in their hurt, in their pain, in their shame, in their guilt, in their triumph, in their goodness, in their success, in their failure, IN THEIR LIFE.

What is it about us that leads us to believe we can tell others what they can and cannot do?! *NEWSFLASH* We ALL need grace. We ALL need mercy. We ALL need love. We are ALL different versions of the same thing--sinners. No one better. No one worse.

I can only hope that in my life, the following is true:

Let it be said...
...that I was gracious.
...that I was merciful.
...that I gave forgiveness.
...that I left the planet in better condition than I found it.
...that I was fully engaged.
...that I had integrity.
...that I gave of myself to help others.
...that I was the best wife, mother, daughter, sister & friend that I could be.
...that I raised my children to believe they can be and do whatever they set their minds to.
...that I was a fully devoted follower of Christ; not of religion, or politics, but Christ.
Let it be said...that I loved.

You see friends, we don't need to preach Christ, we need to show Christ. We don't need to judge, we need to forgive. We don't need to persecute, offend, ridicule and hate. We need to love. LOVE. And leave the rest to a mighty God who, believe it or not, can handle it without us. :)  It really is that simple.

Spread the love, friends. Spread the love.

Peace

Last night we were forced to make one of the hardest decisions of our lives. As many of you know, we've praying and waiting for this little girl we came across by accident. We've been following her file and praying to hear soon that she is "paperwork ready" and that her file has graciously been assigned to our agency. The March "list" came out last night, and we received a referral. However, it was not the file we'd been hoping for, but one for a different little girl.

She met all of the criteria we'd asked for when applying to adopt. She was only 7 months older than the little girl we'd been praying over. She was located within an hour of the city where we will spend our entire 2nd week of our trip, which means our travel would've been considerably easier. And SHE. WAS. ADORABLE. A little girl, half a world away, needing a home, needing parents, needing someone to simply say "yes".

I cried. I believe I used the phrase "I think I'm gonna throw up" at least 4 times. I cried more. My husband even got teary-eyed (that doesn't happen people). It was heart-wrenching. It was raw. It was...horrible. We truly had no idea what to do. We were at a complete loss. We thought we were headed one direction and, in a moment, we were questioning everything we'd believed up until that point. It was by far the hardest decision of our lives. How do you contemplate two beautiful little girls, identical in need, and choose only ONE?

Once again, I found myself crying out to God, Jehovah-Shalom, to give me peace...to give US peace. We looked over every inch of her file, and her photos...oh God, the photos...did I mention she was adorable?? We talked about our gut feelings. I told my husband I was completely on the fence. On the one hand, I felt so strongly God had brought us through so much, answered so many specific prayers for the little girl who had already stolen our hearts. Did deciding on a little girl who was available now mean we didn't trust God to bring us any further, to deliver on what we had specifically prayed for? Was that taking the easy way out? Because, in so many ways, saying "yes" to this new little girl would be easier. On the other hand, was this God closing that door? Was this His "something better" that we'd told our children He would give us if He didn't give us the little one we'd been praying over? I was, as I said before, at a complete loss. Sitting smack dab on the fence with no clue what to do.

I asked what his thoughts were. He was very quiet. He admitted he didn't want to tell me. He said he was scared. He reminded me, for probably the 1 millionth time (true story), how he isn't drawn to other people's children. He's really not a kid-person. Ironic, I know, as we are going on FIVE kids. He loves our kids. He loves being a dad. In fact, one of his biggest fears about adopting was how he knew he felt about children who were not his own. He was afraid of bringing home a child that he might not see as his own. Although I am not built that way, I TOTALLY get that. I think that's the case for many people. We all love our own kids, but someone else's? Eh, take 'em or leave 'em, it's just not the same as the way you look at your own. So I get it. And I love the heart of my husband, who has such discernment that he does not want to deny a child the genuine love of a father.

Then he told me, from the moment he laid eyes on that first little girl, he knew he could love her as his own. He didn't understand it, how that could be (my husband, who is very logical, where everything-needs-to-make-sense and I-need-to-see-a-plan-before-deciding). For him to love a little girl in a picture as if she were his own was HUGE. It was simply from God, an answer to prayer, I believe. He also said it was not the same feeling when he looked at this new little girl. "Are we horrible for thinking about saying no?" he asked, as he voiced aloud our mutual concern. "Or is that just worrying more about what other people will think?"

In that moment, a complete peace washed over me. My doubts vanished. I was no longer on the fence. You see, what I haven't told (most of) you until now is that early on, when I was praying over this first little girl, I was scared. I have a tendency to jump in with both feet and ask questions later (I know, big surprise there). But with this, my heart being completely drawn to a simple image of this child, I knew I needed discernment. I needed something to show me that it wasn't just my wishful thinking falling in love with a child I'd found, but the leading of the Holy Spirit. For days I had searched my heart, trying to know what to pray, how to ask God to show me if I should be feeling the way I did. And in one moment, way back in December, I knew what to pray. I told God that if I was supposed to feel this way, if we were supposed to pursue this little girl, it needed to come from my husband. You see, faith is my spiritual gift. It comes naturally. It always has. I worry very little, almost never in fact. But my husband is very practical, very logical...he needs everything to make sense. So I left it at the feet of God and resolved not to say another word about this little girl. On the way home from celebrating Christmas at my parents house a few weeks later, as we were talking in the car, he said,

 "If I tell you something, do you promise not to freak out on me?"
 "Um, ok, what's up?" I said.
 And he sat there...contemplating whether or not to continue. "It just doesn't make sense."
"Huh?"
"It doesn't make sense"
"What doesn't?" I asked, thoroughly confused.
He remained silent, nearly driving me batty. Lol
"I shouldn't feel this way about a little girl I've never met."
BOOM. THANK YOU JESUS. I was smiling from ear to ear, naturally.
"I TOLD you not to freak out!!" he said when he saw my face.
"I'm not. But I have something to tell you." And I proceeded to share with him my previous conversation with God.

I share all that to say this: God knew what my heart needed then. And He knew what it needed last night. In the moment Sean shared his heart, I knew. God was leading me, once again, through the discerning heart of my unknowing husband. He and I both felt a love for that little girl for a reason. And for the same reason, we were not drawn to this second little girl. Maybe that sounds horrible to some of you. After all, she needs a home like every other orphan on the planet. But we serve a BIG God. And we believe He created a specific little girl for our family. One of them was our daughter. The other is someone else's. To say "yes" would be to keep her from the home she was created for.

So we wait. And pray. And we stand firm in our decision to fight for her, this specific little girl, until God Himself closes that door--or brings her home forever. Right now, it's still wide open. So we still wait...with a peace that TRULY passes all understanding.

Beauty for Ashes

For many reasons, we have decided that, until God closes the door for us, we will fight for this specific little girl who has stolen our hearts until we bring her home. It's strange at times, to have such a fierce love for a child we've never even met. And yet most of the time, it just feels normal, as though she were born from my own body.

The last couple of months, the day before and the day of the "list" coming out, I've been a bit of an emotional basket-case. I am excitement, worry, apprehension, fear and elation all rolled into one. And as I've said before, it's not due to a lack of peace over the situation or a fear of what will happen--because we know God is in control. It's more the mama in me--wanting so badly to care for my child and realizing I'm at the mercy of others for (literally) God only knows how long.

When we first came across this little girl, I was so captivated I began researching where she lived, the culture that surrounded her, what her weather was like, etc. Trying, somehow, to envision her there and what life was like for her. My wonderful, and very practical husband, however, told me it was probably better to wait until we knew for sure she was ours before doing all of that research. So I stopped. Until this morning.

I started looking again today. I pulled up images, websites, info pages...pages on language, history, climate, tourism, industry, location, and so on. At first I was intrigued. So much of this culture is foreign to me, so much I don't understand. Then I became excited. I mentally planned out (in a matter of minutes before my brain switched to another thought, lol) what would be the best way to drink it all in. I desperately want to understand where she's from, to experience so much of it. I picture us by rivers, hiking mountains, site seeing the numerous attractions, all in an effort to fully BE in her world.

And then it hit me. An over whelming sense of sadness and grief. While she will gain a family and love and security that she's never known, she will also lose the culture where she was given life. All of its beauty, its wonder, its history, its language...it will all be as foreign to her as it is to me one day. And that breaks my heart. It creates in me a pain that is different from any I've ever known. My insides ache for the loss my daughter will experience that she has yet to even realize.

There is so much about adoption that is beautiful, magnificent, truly sent from God. There is so much to be said for a child finding a home where he/she is forever loved and for the change only he/she can bring to that family. But so often I believe it is over looked, the grief they will suffer. Not just in the loss of their birth family, but, especially in cases of international adoption, the loss of their people, their language, their culture. This point was brought to my attention for the first time at an adoption conference we recently attended. At the time I thought, wow, I never thought of that...that's deep. But today, God has allowed me to FEEL it...to grieve for my daughter. I can't begin to explain how it feels but it is raw, and it is real, and it is painful. Yet I know that it is nothing compared to what my daughter will feel when she is older, when she understands, when she really gets it.

As a mom, I've always (at least to this point) felt confident in my ability to soothe my children, to comfort their pain, their frustration. Because I've been there. I've been the pre-teen that was picked on in the midst of struggling to figure out who I am. I've been the 4th & 5th grader trying to decide how to deal with friends and for the first time, those who weren't friends. I've been the 4 year old whose whole world is candy and roses and everything's sweet. :) But for the first time, I'm staring down a path I've never seen, contemplating issues I've never experienced myself, and wondering how on earth I will ever fully help my daughter grieve.

Adoption is beautiful, exciting, and wonderful...and at the same time hard, ugly, and down right scary. But it is drawing me closer to Jehovah-Jireh, the God who provides, Jehovah-Shalom, the God of peace, and more than anything, Jehovah-Rapha, the God who heals. Only He will make my little girl whole. Only He will mend her broken, hurting places. Only He will provide us with what we need, when we need it, to be there for her when she grieves. And she will.

"When sorrow seems to surround you
When suffering hangs heavy o'er your head
Know that tomorrow brings
Wholeness and healing
God knows your need
Just believe what He said

He gives beauty for ashes
Strength for fear
Gladness for mourning
Peace for despair"

         --Beauty for Ashes, Crystal Lewis

Life In The Slow Lane

Time for what seems like my "monthly" update on our adoption. On the one hand, it seems to be taking FOREVER. On the other, it seems crazy to think we will have had 3 lists come out since we received our LID. We are now on the countdown for school to be out! I can't wait to have all my babies home every day (she says right now, while they are playing nicely and getting along. lol).

So much has changed and yet at the same time, so little has changed. Monday night another list will come out. Our caseworker is hoping we will hear something from the CCCWA by then about the specific file we've requested. If she doesn't hear anything, she will search the list that evening, just in case the file was added to it. It's a crazy process that I know many of you do not fully understand. It made little sense to us until we were in the thick of the process. Now we throw around terms like DTC, LID, LOI, CCCWA, LOA, TA, etc and even our kids know what it all means. :)  In a lot of ways, it seems as though we've been at this same point in the process f-o-r-e-v-e-r. It feels like a lot of the same. There's not really even a lot more than weekly communication between us and our caseworker because there's not a lot to do on our end other than wait.

That being said, there is so much that HAS changed since the first list came out! As I've mentioned before on my facebook posts, we are privy to information that we should not have!  We have been able to locate this specific little girl's file and we have one of our agency workers checking on her paperwork daily.  In the beginning, when we first came across this little girl, the response from our agency was, "of course, send us the info you have and we'll do everything we can to locate her and get more information on her situation. It's not common to find the information we'll need to find her file and she may not be available if we do, but it's worth a try."  And now, only a few months later, their response was, "we can't say with certainty, but barring some strange thing we are not aware of, we see no reason why they wouldn't send us her file since we know where it is in the process and they know a family is waiting for her."  THAT, my friends, is HUGE. It's not unheard of, but it is extremely rare, especially given the circumstances of how we came across her and how unlikely it was that we would be able to get her specific info. Needle in a haystack type of rare. Truly.

So while we are still very much in the same place, we are much MUCH more hopeful, much more excited, and in reality, every day we wait is one more day closer to bringing her home!! To be honest, there's many a day that I must remind myself of that fact so that I don't wallow in frustration and despair. I don't, for one minute, want to make this process seem easy. But I don't want it to seem insurmountable either. I want you to read these posts and be able to share in the joy and the pain alongside us, but also to walk away with a better understanding of one of the many facets of adoption. I want it to be real. open. honest. And I want you to see the miraculous in the mundane, God in the midst of our wait, our struggle.

This I know: We have a daughter half a world away, created just for our family. She is loved. Not only by us, but by the birth mother who gave her the very best chance she could, in what I can only imagine was the most difficult decision of her life. God has bigger plans for this little one. I have no idea what they are yet, but she will not come this far, through this process, to simply exist. She was created for something bigger. We will meet her, not one minute too soon and not one minute too late, but at the time appointed according to the goodness of a mighty God who knows better than we do exactly what we need. And even though we may not see all of it right now (or ever), He is working even now, in the details of her life and in the details of her adoption. We hold tight to this truth:

"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still."  Exodus 14:14

He fights. We remain. That is all. That is enough.