Whole

It's Mother's Day - the second that I've been a mama. In church this morning we started singing:

"Broken Vessels (Amazing Grace)" by Hillsong

All these pieces
Broken and scattered
In mercy gathered
Mended and whole
Empty handed
But not forsaken
I've been set free
I've been set free

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
But now I'm found
Was blind but now I see

Oh I can see you now
Oh I can see the love in Your eyes
Laying yourself down
Raising up the broken to life

You take our failure
You take our weakness
You set Your treasure
In jars of clay
So take this heart, Lord
I'll be Your vessel
The world to see
Your love in me

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
But now I'm found
Was blind but now I see

Oh I can see you now
Oh I can see the love in Your eyes
Laying yourself down
Raising up the broken to life

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
But now I'm found
Was blind but now I see
[2x]

Oh I can see you now
Oh I can see the love in Your eyes
Laying yourself down
Raising up the broken to life

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
But now I'm found
Was blind but now I see
[2x]

Oh I can see you now
Oh I can see the love in Your eyes
Laying yourself down
Raising up the broken to life
[3x]

Before we had sung the first full verse I was in tears. As I sat there feeding my baby his bottle, watching his eyes see the people around us singing, his chubby hands grabbing the bottle, his tiny curls resting peacefully against my chest - and IT hit me: It's Mother's Day, and that part of me that longed to be a mama all those broken years, that part of me is not broken anymore. The part of me that felt I would never be who I was made to be IS who I was made to be. Not all women feel like being a mother in who they were created to be, but I did. There were ways that God made me a mother before I ever met Genesis. In the high school girls I led in Bible study for so many years, in my best friends girls who called me "MamaLicia",  in the students who called me "Mama Wenzek", even in my role as live in caregiver - I felt that maternal part of me come alive in each of these situations and I am so grateful. But I was still very broken. Some brokenness never heals this side of eternity I believe, because we live in a messed up broken world. BUT Jesus is the Redeemer Who brings beauty from ashes and binds up the brokenhearted and sets the captive free. His grace is truly amazing. 

I couldn't see Him clearly in those times of pain. When I realized my dream of carrying a baby would never come true I couldn't see the love in His eyes. I couldn't see that His grace could carry me through. I felt the broken pieces and edges of my life and dreams and I couldn't fully see how He could redeem this. Over the years, I kept coming to Him, offering Him my broken pieces and even when parts of my heart healed I never imagined I could feel this whole while on earth. I knew that He was with me and that His love was enough and that someday in heaven I would feel whole. 

This morning looking down at my sweet baby clapping his hands to the music, I realized that I feel whole in a way I never thought possible on earth. I felt content. I know I should feel content in Him no matter what, but I still longed to be a mama. He took the imperfections and brokenness of my life and brought something I couldn't have planned out even if I tried. In my grief and loss all those years ago He knew that there would be this little baby boy with perfect skin, soft curls, and big brown eyes with just a hint of lavender. He knew that he, because of the messiness and brokenness of the world, would need a mama. He knew that our paperwork would land in just the right moment for his emergency placement for adoption. He knew that Genesis' birth mother would ask for a couple with no children in the home yet, He knew that we would have just lost baby Judah and have a nursery ready for a baby boy. He knew all of this and more. And He looked with love in His eyes and He probably wished He could just tell that grieving 26 year old that her dreams wouldn't come true the way she planned, but that they would be even better.  He probably wanted to tell me that even though whole was the last thing I felt in those horrible months and years that I would someday sit in a Mother's Day service and feel like Someone had taken the pieces that were scattered and broken and glued them all together with superglue - not forgotten scars, but healed and whole in His beautiful redemption. 

I'm whole. Not because I now have a child, but God has used this child to show me His redemption and His beautiful grace. Someday I'll be even more whole when I see my Redeemer face to face, but until then I'll rejoice in the moments of wholeness I feel because of His redemption here on earth.

I'm living the life I feel like I was made to live and that is only by His grace.

Remembering Judah

A year ago we found out that the baby we called Judah, was not going to come home to us.  I remember so clearly getting off the phone and feeling like I couldn't breath.  I remember quietly closing the nursery door.  I remember breathing prayer after prayer for him and his birth mom (who he wasn't with but we're praying he's back with her now).  I remember wondering who was holding him and willing him to feel as loved as he was.  I remember the moment I stopped pumping milk for him, and telling my Farmer Boy that I was done as tears ran down my face.  I remember feeling like such a fool for having loved him before we met him.  I remember the shocked emails from the social workers and their apologetic: "We didn't see this coming".  I remember returning to work a week later and a sweet co-worker giving me a white lily with tears in her eyes.  I remember students notes of love.  I remember a few comments that hurt about how we shouldn't have let ourselves hope so big, even when we were chosen for him.  I remember thinking how at least he was very prayed for by us in those weeks leading up to his birth, and how I was glad that I had allowed myself to love him because I knew it meant I would be praying for him for the rest of my life. I remember how waiting for him to be born I felt more like a mother than ever before in my life. I remember how I looked at the ultrasound picture one more time before deleting the files.  I remember waves of excitement being replaced with waves of grief.  I remember wondering how big he was, what he looked like, what kind of baby he was.

I still wonder.  Did he have a wonderful first birthday?  Is he walking and saying a few words?  Does he have a lot of hair?  How big is he?  What does he love to eat?  I'll probably always wonder things about him.  And that's ok.

The announcement we sent to family when we found out we were chosen and he was a boy!

I remember you today Judah.  And I'm still praying for you sweet baby boy.

Please join me in praying that he is able to be with his birth mom and that they are in a safe place now.

Cuddles and diapers and cars and crackers and applesauce ...

I just realized that I haven't written in ... almost 7 months!?!?  What?  So, life with a baby has been a grand adventure and a lot of work, but honestly waaaay more fun than I could have imagined!  (seriously, I love it more than I knew I could love doing anything ever!).  I thought to ease back into blogging I would share a little of what we've been up to these last 7 months!

One of the biggest parts of our life has been MOVING - we moved not only to a different state, but across the ocean!  With a 6 month old!  We spent 2 months staying with family and then moved into our new house (renting from Joshua's wonderful Grandpa!) we love our huge backyard garden/farm where we now have chickens and 2 kittens!  Decorating a woodland nursery for Genesis has been a huge highlight for me.  I often go into the nursery just to relax and enjoy the fact that I have a nursery in my house!!!  Genesis loves to play and look at books in there too - not so much sleeping goes on there but that's ok. ;)  We're super excited to be closer to family and we loved spending time with cousins, grandparents, aunts and uncles this summer!

Genesis is growing into such a fun and interactive baby!  We love him more every moment and are amazed by him constantly.  He crawls everywhere really fast, and he loves to sing and dance.  His favorite toys right now are car type toys (a wooden bunny with wheels his great grandma made) and balls.  He LOVES trees which he has loved all his life really!  He loves the kittens and going outside with his Papa and digging in the dirt (and eating it!).  His first word was either "Papa" or "kitty", and he says "mama" but only when he is crying or pooping (which he often does IN THE POTTY!)  We're still nursing which is such a gift and I love having this bond with him!  I wish I could have nursed without a nursing bottle, but I am so grateful that I have any of my own milk to give him! (maybe I'll write a post just about adoptive breastfeeding at some point because seriously it's crazy!).
I may go back to work soon, and I am treasuring every moment (and every blessed afternoon nap which I religiously take with him every day - lucky me!!!) with him just at home together.  It's bliss.  Except for the screaming, and peeing and stinky cloth diapers ... that's not so much bliss but everything else is, oh except the not sleeping well at night part - that is the hardest on me I think ... but everything else is bliss.  I am in love with being a stay at home mom and I will treasure this time we have had forever!

Well, I don't think I am expressing well what an incredible child he is ... so here are some pictures to let you see a bit into our everyday.  :)

Sleeping sweet baby at 3- 4 months

Tummy time with mama

Nursing 4 months

Goodbye Hawaii - 6 months!

Mama's teacher's aide in the high school 6 months!

Add caption

Pumpkin and Papa

Can you find the baby?  In our fall garden 

He loves books!

Well - there's a look at what we've been up to these past 7 months!  Not sure if it will be that long before I update again - but if it is you'll know it's because I have the cutest little buddy to hang out with these days!  We feel very grateful!

Grateful

I have had  a long history of being stubborn and trying to be independent, and to NOT need anything from anyone.  I have had almost as long of a history of being humbled, shown my weaknesses, and NEEDING others in my life.  It's been an uncomfortable journey, but I am learning how God never intended us to walk alone on this journey of life.  He created us for community, and to be there to help each other.  Somehow I feel like I have been on the receiving end way too much - but again it's humbling (which apparently I need).

We knew when we set out to adopt, or pretty soon after, that it would be a hard road, we had NO idea how incredibly hard.  I had heard adoption was expensive with all the fees and such, but I had no clue how expensive it was going to be for us.  Most people that I know who have adopted outside foster care, have had auctions, fundraisers etc. It's uncomfortable.  The apostle Paul talks about helping others in Galatians 6:2 "Bear one another's burden's and so fulfill the law of Christ."  The Bible also says that if one doesn't work he shouldn't eat - alluding to the fact that no one who is unwilling to work should be mooching off of those who ARE hardworking.  It's a balance that is often misunderstood and uncomfortable.

When I came home from surgery that December 10 years ago I was given the first gift toward our adoption fund by my sister.  She had knitted me a baby sweater (which is pink so I guess we need to adopt a girl next!) and the money was enclosed in the gift.  It was only 10 days after my major surgery, and I broke down crying when I saw her loving thoughtfulness and the hope she had for my someday babies, even before I could fully comprehend what I had lost in that operating room.  After that I started saving all my change in a jar marked "For the Babies".  

The gifts started slowly coming in as people heard that my dream was to adopt.  Some of the girls in my Bible study would save their coins too, one day we found $500 in my car after church ... When my Farmer Boy and I got married, we decided to ask for gifts toward our adoption account instead of registering for tons of household gifts.  

We have been overwhelmed time and time again by the generosity of our friends and family.  We had one friend offer to give us a huge amount which was a part of an inheritance.  We were floored.  There is NO way we could have adopted baby Genesis without her generosity, without every one of the dollars given to help us get here.  We had another person offer to give us a private loan for the lawyer and birth mom fees that were due the day we found out he was going to be ours.  Again, without that we would have had to walk away.  When we began getting closer last year I started 2 extra home jobs on top of both of us working 60+ hours a week teaching to try and earn the money needed to adopt.  We wanted so badly to be able to afford this adoption without any more help!

We took out 2 loans on top of all the money we were given, and still that wasn't enough.  Since we lots baby Judah after we had entered into an adoption agreement we lost a hefty lawyer's retainer and birth mom expenses (almost the entire first loan amount), we literally had no idea how we would be able to cover this adoption.  We thought about the potential of not being able to cover the adoption and considered saying no (shudder), but we just felt like he was placed in our radar for a reason, and we should step out in faith that all the details would fall into place.  

On his one month birthday we were flown via private jet to a bigger hospital because he was in respiratory distress from the RSV virus.  His insurance hadn't gone  through yet - but we prayed and filled out the insurance formed.  Thankfully his insurance went through, but the co-payments for 5 days in the hospital plus emergency services were enough to push us over the top with absolutely no way to even make payments on top of the loan payments.  Again, we were given gifts to help cover many of the fees and we are so grateful!

I guess I just wanted to take this opportunity to shout out to every person who has given from $5 to thousands!   It is uncomfortable and brings us to our knees in gratitude to accept the help for what we COULD NOT do on our own.  You have (and are) helping make our dream of having a family come true.  You are part of our miracle!!!  "Thank you" doesn't cut it, but it's what I will be saying until the day I die.  THANK YOU!!!  Every morning I wake up and see the smile of the most beautiful child on earth - because of YOUR faithful sharing and loving!  We are overwhelmed.  

Here are some pictures to let you see how you have helped changed our life!

Here is a link to see the beautiful giving record:  Adoption Fundraiser

Smiley Baby

Sweetest Little Baby,

Three months ago right now we were about to board a flight headed over the wide vast Pacific ocean to meet you.  We hadn't even known you were ours for 8 hours yet and we were about to have you placed into our arms.  What a three months this has been!  We have learned and grown so much in the last three months, and experienced a lifetime full of joys, sadness and awe.  We still feel like this is a wonderful dream and we still feel like we are the most luckiest of all people to be YOUR parents, Genesis Evan.  We love you more than we knew it was possible to love.  You are our son, and our lives will never be the same.  Here are some of the moments (joy filled and tear filled) we have been having over these three months:

(photo by Constance Starks)

* Seeing your cousin Evie hold you for the first time you were just a little over 2 weeks old - her 2 year old reaction was the reaction I think we all have had on the inside when we realize all that God has done in giving you to our family.  As soon as I placed you in her arms you she said: "CUUUTEEE!" and then let out the most joyful belly laugh!  She kept looking at you and then laughing and she was positively shaking with joy at the amazing miracle that you are.  You are so loved sweet boy - but all your grandparents, aunties, uncles, cousins, friends ... I often tell you that you are the most loved baby in all the world.

* Carrying you into our home.  Being home with our sweet baby at 3 weeks old - just the three of us.  Absolute bliss.  We just stared at you and cuddled you and I nursed you and your Papa took pictures of you and laughed as you tried to suck your thumb.  We became a family.

* Your first "cold". The first night we were home you started to seem sick - we all had a cold, but yours progressed into trouble breathing so about a week after coming home we took you to the ER where they got worried because you were so tiny and your cough was so bad and your oxygen level was too low. So they sent you and me on a medical jet (a jet so small they were afraid I might not be able to go with you - that was some of the worst fear of my life thinking they might take you away and I would have to follow on the different flight!) in the middle of the night on your first month birthday to a bigger hospital.  We were stuck an island away from the Papa and without family or close friends - but God sent some angels to us who brought me coffee, and clothes and brought you cuddles.  The morning after we were flown you were so weak and I leaned over the crib where you were tethered with tons of wires and tubes.  You let out a weak whimper and I said: "Baby, I know you feel horrible, but you are strong and you need to fight hard to keep breathing, you can make it through this. FIGHT hard baby, don't leave us."  The doctors kept saying how babies with what you had stop breathing and how dangerous it is - you had RSV.  We spent 5 days in the hospital.  Such a hard way to start our life together, but it bonded you and I even more I think.

* Hearing your Papa read to you, and hearing how you love to coo and "talk" to him.  You love interacting with your Papa.  You turn to Mama for comfort and going to sleep, but you enjoy your Papa for just handing out and being buddies together.  I love seeing his huge hands holding your tiny self.  You are protected so well by him Genesis.

* The day I went back to work, I always wanted to be a stay at home mama - and someday I will be, but for now we need me to be working.  So I went back after just 6 weeks with you.  The first day I dropped you off I felt like part of me was missing.  As I drove away from the babysitter's house I glanced in the baby mirror reflected in the rear-view mirror and my heart dropped when I didn't see your little face.  I hadn't left you for longer than a few minutes since the moment I laid eyes on you - and it felt so wrong to be without you.  It's been about 6 weeks working now and I still feel like a part of my body is missing when I'm away from you.  Hardest thing by far of being your mama up to now.

* The first time you reached up and touched my face - and left your little fingers on my chin.  I melted.

* The day when I came home from work and you smiled and got soooo excited to see me!  I felt like the most popular person in the world!

* Your laughing in your sleep - you've done it almost from day one, and you just started doing it when you're away over the past week.  It's THE BEST.

Thank you sweet boy, for making our lives so full.  We love you.

~ Your Mama

A New Beginning

I almost fell down the stairs when I read the following text message from our social worker: "New mommy and daddy come get me! (birth mom) signed!"

I'll remember that text for the rest of my life, because it was the moment I knew I was for sure going to be a mama.

It was only 3 weeks since we had lost the little baby boy we had decided to name Judah.  Our hearts were broken beyond anything we had felt.  Then one day at work I saw a call from our social worker and I called her back because it was my planning period.  She said that she had a question about our home study and what ethnicity we were comfortable adopting.  She said there was a birth mom and they were considering us as their top choice (it was an agency adoption) and as long as the birth mom signed the baby would be ours.  My head started spinning - but I made it through the rest of the day teaching and casually mentioned it to my Farmer Boy after work.  We both were very casual about it, and decided that we wouldn't say anything to anyone because we were convinced that it would fall apart again.

But, deep in my heart I began to dream and I started calling the Baby "Button" when I prayed for him (we didn't know he was a boy yet).

We heard about the possibility on a Wednesday.  The baby was due on December 29, so we decided that we would wait through Christmas and see what would happen, especially since we were sure it wasn't going to materialize for us.

On Saturday morning the 13th, we were sleeping in (for the last time in our lives probably!) when Joshua's phone rang.  He answered and told me with his eyes that it was our social worker.  He put it on speaker phone and she said: "The baby has been born, it's a boy, he is 6 lbs 6 oz (off by an ounce) and he scored 9/9 on his apgar test ...  and are you sure you want to adopt him because if not I need to find another adoptive family."  I think I almost choaked on my words because I tried to say them so fast - "YES WE'RE IN!!!!"  Then we sat in our bed and got a little teary and prayed for him, prayed that even if he wasn't our baby that he would be blessed and so loved in his life, we prayed for his birth mom and the whole situation.  Then I started cleaning the house.  That night Joshua was in the Christmas parade on a float playing and singing a Christmas song with students at our school, and I was chaperoning the high school winter ball.  I kept thinking of this little baby boy, but I kept telling myself that it wasn't likely to happen.

When I got home that night there was a new stocking hanging above the fireplace in between our two stockings.  :)  My farmer boy was starting to dream too.

Monday was the longest day of my life.  We knew that birth mom was supposed to sign adoption papers that day, but we didn't know when.  We were at work, but not telling anyone except our bosses - so I was trying to teach while discretely cleaning up my room, getting all the finals printed and sub plans made, all checking my phone obsessively.  But there was no word.  By the end of the day I was feeling stressed with naking copies buttoning down my room and getting to a doctor appointment I had, all while feeling that for sure the birth mom had run away and it wasn't our baby after all.  A couple co-workers noticed my stress and asked if they could help - so I told them what was going on and I almost started crying because I said that we were so afraid that we were loosing another baby, and I was (still am) grieving the loss of Judah.  Then I rushed off to my appointment, and was texting the social worker who said that birth mom was in a meeting supposed to sign - and when I was walking out the door my cell beeped and it was the social worker with the text I will never forget.  I literally was almost falling down the stairs and the security guard said: "don't fall down, are you ok?"  Then I called Joshua and said: "You're a Papa".  He was shocked and so so happy.  

The date was December 15th.  Exactly 10 years earlier I had woken from surgery to  hear that I would never be able to carry a child.  The date that always reminded me of what I had lost, from now on will remind me of the day I found out I was going to be a mama. 

Redemption.

We rushed around getting tickets - we ended up on the last 2 seats on the 11;05 pm flight out of Kona Monday night. The last two seats on the last flight out that night.  We had a 2-3 hour layover in Washington and my amazing Mama drove for 2 hours to give us a hug.  We barely made it to the airport before we had to leave to catch our next flight.  She pulled up the the drop-off zone and jumped out  I ran to her and we grabbed onto each other and started sobbing.  It felt like a crazy movie and people were looking at us and we were sobbing and hugging like we hadn't seen each other in years. She brought a blanket her mom had made.  That hug was epic and I felt so so loved. Tuesday (one week ago today) we landed in the city where our baby was.  When we touched down I felt so excited - we were near to our Baby. Thankfully Josh has family here and so we were so so blessed to be met at the airport and have had a wonderful place to stay with loving wonderful relatives.  

We took a nap, took a shower and went to meet our Baby at the adoption agency office at 6:15 on the 16th.  We walked in and I was disappointed to hear that we needed to sign papers and go through details and that the foster mom wouldn't be bringing him until around 7.  I don't think I've ever signed my name so fast - I just wanted to have my son in my arms and to know that he was ours.  Suddenly, around the corner came a lady carrying a fuzzy blanket with cars on it (he was so little I couldn't even see him in the blanket) - she was singing "We wish you a Merry Christmas!" and before I knew it the tiniest little baby wearing red and white striped jammies with a reindeer on them, was being placed in my arms.  I just stared and stared. His jammies were so so big, and I noticed how long he was and how skinny. His little lips were perfect. He was sleeping. I kept saying: "my baby, hi my baby, my baby". 

 But, I didn't react like I thought I would - it didn't seem real.  The foster mom said: "What's his name" and I couldn't say anything - it seemed like we couldn't be naming him!  Joshua said in such a proud Papa voice: "Genesis Evan".He didn't almost seem real.  We took pictures,  I stared and stared at him.  I was vaguely aware of the social worker and foster mom talking in the background but I couldn't pull my eyes off of him.  I wanted to feel like he was mine, but I was in shock and I just kept thinking how tiny he was and how cute. Finally, they said we could leave, and we put him in the car seat and walked out to the car.  I sat next to him in the back and fed him a bottle.  Then we stopped at Walgreens to get something, and we called our families to tell them his name and how cute and relaxed he was.  Our families were so so excited and shocked! In just 24 hours we went from finding out that we were going to have this baby as our own to having him in our arms. 

We then went back to the home where we are staying and introduced him to our aunt and uncle. When we finally went into our room, I sat on the bed and started to feed him.  Suddenly I started to cry.  I kept picturing myself as a three year old pretending to nurse my dollies, and I couldn't believe that my dream from my childhood was coming true.  I was a Mama.  I was this perfect Baby's mama! It was overwhelming. It's funny that it took my heart about 4 hours after he was placed in my arms until I realized that I was his mama.  

I'm a mama.  My Farmer boy is a papa.  Genesis Evan (meaning new beginning and God is gracious) is our son.  Forever.

This passage I randomly read the morning of December 15, 2004 before I went into surgery - 10 years later I am that rejoicing woman I had wondered if would ever exist. 

Isaiah 54:1-2 

Sing, barren woman,

    you who never bore a child;

burst into song, shout for joy,

    you who were never in labor;

because more are the children of the desolate woman

    than of her who has a husband,”

says the Lord.

Genesis sees his Mama for the first time

Still Thankful

It's Thanksgiving day.  There is a turkey in the oven and pumpkin pie all ready.  And all I can think of is a tiny baby bib that says: "My First Thanksgiving".  My Farmer Boy picked out the bib on the night we found out that we were chosen to adopt a newborn baby boy.  He said that we had to get something for Thanksgiving since the baby would be born by then.  He was so excited picking out a little outfit with forest animals and the bib.  Now both the outfit and the bib are sitting in the guest room (AKA nursery), because I can't bring myself to pack them away.

While waiting for the call saying we should get on a plane and fly to meet our baby boy, we got a call telling us that this baby was not coming home to us.  When I got off the phone I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of my lungs.  We lost our baby.

People keep saying that there will be another baby at "the right time".  I know these are well-meaning loving statements, but I want to scream that we don't want another baby right now.  We are grieving the loss of THIS baby.  The name we had chosen means "praise, and God is gracious".   Even as we feel the giant emptiness this little life has left in our hearts, we believe God is still gracious and worthy of our praise.

I have a friend who suffered the loss of a stillborn baby, and her description of what grief she endured feels familiar.  Because, even though this baby didn't die; we feel the emptiness of a baby who was due to be ours this last week.  We were prepared.  I have a freezer full of milk.  I have been pumping to help stimulate lactation so that I could nurse my baby.  In 10 years I have not felt so much like a woman as I did these last few weeks.  My husband was surprised that I was talking to sisters and friends on the phone as much as I was, and the reason was that I felt like I was part of the mommy club, and it felt really good.  I made curtains for the nursery.  We bought diapers, bottles, wipes, onsies, tiny baby socks.  My husband picked up a carseat and learned how to put it into our car properly. We packed our bags to head to the hospital (out of state) as soon as birth mom went into labor ... I can't bring myself to unpack.

I have never felt this broken.

I know we'll make it through,  and no matter what I still have so much to be thankful for because God is always good and very present.

To Our Almost Babies ...

It was five years ago, right after we were married that the first call came: and our first adoption loss.  Since then, we have had international, local, infants, older kids ... each unique and exciting for a moment when we wondered or even believed were going to be joining our family.  Even as we believe these children are where they should be, part of our heart will love each of them always,  Here is what I will likely never get the chance to say to our Almost Babies ....

Sweet Precious Baby,

Oh how grateful I am that I have known of you.  Even though we may never meet, I am overwhelmed with prayers for you.  I pray that every day you will know you are loved and valued so incredibly.  I pray you will always feel your purpose in this life, and live every moment to the fullest. May you forever live in the knowledge and be strengthened knowing that you are a beautiful person, made by the most loving Creator. I want you to never feel pain, but I know that you will in this world.  So, I pray that when you fall down, you will have a hand to help you up.  I pray that when you cry you will have a shoulder.  I pray that when you are sick, you will have someone to hold you and take good care of you, and make you feel better.  I pray that for every hurtful word you hear, you will hear a million uplifting words.  I pray you will believe the amazing truth about you, and will not believe any lies about you.  I pray that when you are confused or frustrated you have a compassionate listening ear.  I pray you will have friends who will stand with you.  I pray that you will know real and lasting love in your life.  I pray that you will make this world a better place every day. I pray that you will know the One who made you, and live your life rejoicing that no matter what, He loves you and is with you always. Oh sweet baby, you were never mine, but I am just the most blessed to have held you in my heart for a little time. What a privilege to pray for you. For all that I selfishly wanted to give you, I know that the best gift is just the prayers - because who couldn't use more of those?  Oh baby, I only ever wanted what is best for YOU.  And I believe you are where you should be, with the ones you should be with.  So, I am just sending my love and thoughts across the void of the world to you.  I'm choosing to leave you where I put you the moment I knew of you: in the most powerful, loving Hands that I have ever known.  Be blessed sweet baby.

                                                                                     love,

                                                                                                 me

The white bunny, and facing fear of loss

There is a white bunny in our yard.  She's been there for about a week, every day we see her munching on grass at the edge of the jungle.  But, I am avoiding her.  Because I don't want to make her run away.

She was here for a couple weeks about a year ago as well, and that time I would talk with her and spend time trying to get her to eat from my hand.  One day I took some kale from our garden and held it out and she came up to me and ate it right out of my hand!  I was so excited!!  But, the next day she was gone.  I looked and looked and called for her for days.  I felt like it was my fault that she left.

There is a song that says: 

"Staring at the bottom of your glass

Hoping one day you'll make a dream last

But dreams come slow, and they go so fast

You see her when you close your eyes

Maybe one day you'll understand why

Everything you touch surely dies

But you only need the light when it's burning low

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow

Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low

Only hate the road when you're missing home

Only know you love her when you let her go

Staring at the ceiling in the dark

Same old empty feeling in your heart

'Cause love comes slow, and it goes so fast

Well you see her when you fall asleep

But never to touch and never to keep

Cause you loved her too much, and you dived too deep

(Lyrics by Passenger)

The line that says: "Everything you touch surely dies" went through my mind when the bunny ran away.  And, this time I just have been enjoying seeing our little fluffy friend from afar. I don't want to get too close and make her leave again.

I feel the same way about adoption.  Over the past 5 years we have had several adoption possibilities/opportunities presented to us.  And every time, we have ended up loosing a baby we dreamed of, a baby we hoped would stay in our heart forever.  It sometimes feels like if we pursue a specific adoption, we doom it to fall apart. Will we ever be parents?  It hurts so bad when it doesn't happen, and even though we believe the children we have loved are where they should be, we miss the dream of them being in our life.  How can you keep hoping and dreaming when it keeps falling apart?  It sometimes makes me want to stop trying so that I can protect my heart from feeling so empty when a dream leaves.

But, you know what?  If I had given up the first 7 times I tried to walk, I would be crawling around still.  If I had stopped being with people because I was so petrifyingly shy I would never have had any of the friendships of my life.  If I had stopped driving when I was learned and people were honking behind me for going so slow - I wouldn't have enjoyed the thrill of driving with the windows down.  If I had been too afraid of relationships ending I would have never considered that out of my league handsome Farmer Boy so many years ago.  If I had given up when I was learning to drive the tractor I wouldn't have tilled the field. If I had been too concerned about trying a new career, I wouldn't have the joy of being a teacher at a wonderful school.

So, even though I'm scarred spit-less, I'm going to continue to say YES to the adoption situations that come our way. Yes, it will hurt like hell every time an adoption opportunity falls apart, every time we are not chosen, every time we have to make the hard choice to walk away ... but good things usually require hurt somewhere along the line, and it's so worth it.

I think I'll go ahead and try to feed our little bunny guest tomorrow.  Maybe she'll decide to stay this time.

Falling off the monkey bars, and looking for joy

They tell you not to take it personally when you don't get chosen in an adoption opportunity.

Riiiight.

It's easy enough to say, "Ok, we won't take it personally" .. until you get that phone call, like the one I got yesterday: "Well, for whatever reason, and we don't know what that is, but ... she went with a different family."  And suddenly you can't tell if the world has stopped spinning or if it's suddenly spinning so fast it makes you dizzy.  I've had a few people ask me today how I'm feeling, how I'm doing. Usually I say something like: "It is what it is, and we're survive."  (which is true) But, how does it really feel like for the childless one who just found out that a specific adoption dream has fallen apart?  Well, here it is - in all it's raw honesty.  I can only speak from my own experience but this is how it feels to me:

You know when you're a little kid and you fall off the money bars, and you land on your back so hard that for a moment you can't breath - the breath gets "knocked out" of you.  It feels a little bit like that.

You feel slightly relieved that at least the wait is over and you know, but at the same time you would give anything to go back to before you got the call - when you found yourself dreaming of how your baby would smell when you gave your baby a bath ... but there is no going back.

If you aren't with your spouse at the time, all you want is to be in his arms.  But, you also dread seeing the look of disappointment in his eyes.  And no matter how amazing he is, you feel like you need to apologize for being the barren one and making him go through this emptiness.  Even though you know he loves you and doesn't blame you - in that moment and as you process the end of this dream, you blame yourself.

You suddenly feel like you can't do it ever again.  No matter what comes, you literally cannot handle the broken feeling that comes at moments like these.  You want to call back your agency and tell them to take your name out of the list of names.  But, like most feelings, this one is often a see-saw of wanting to give up, and longing to find a different program, a new dream - because even though this is so painful, you are addicted to this dream.

You dread telling people. You feel like you are letting down your parents, siblings and friends who have been praying and excited with you. The joy of adopting is magnified by having family share in the excitement (I imagine), but the pain is also magnified when you see the disappointment in those who looked forward to welcoming a child into their lives too.

You wonder - even though your social worker specifically told you about 3 times that it wasn't personal and you would never know, you still wonder what exactly it was that made the birth parent choose someone else. It's fine to say it's not personal, but in that moment, all you know is that someone looked at pictures of you, read words you agonized over, and didn't choose you.  You feel embarrassed - like the kid who didn't get picked for the team.

All the insecurities of your life flood back .. I usually feel fat and ugly.  I know I'm not fat and ugly, but for whatever reason I feel that way whenever I get this news.  It's very weird - and the only thing I can think is that I am so vulnerable in that moment that all the insecurities of my youth flood back over me.

You know that feeling after you spend the whole day on your feet, in the hot sun, without any water?  Well, after I get this news I feel kind of like that.  I feel so incredibly exhausted in every way: emotionally, spiritually, and physically.  All I want is to curl in a ball under the blankets and make the bad dream stop.

This is how I feel.  So, how do I respond?  Initially, I react similarly to how I reacted when my Grammie (who I lived with and walked her last years on earth beside) died.  I keep going in a bit of a dazed determination.  I find things to do, and I cling with everything in me to the One who never leaves - Who has promised me an eternity with no tears or pain.  I disagree when people say that God never gives us more than we can handle.  It was too much to handle for me when I watched my Grammie take her last breaths on earth.  This unfulfilled dream of children is too much for me to handle. I have to depend on Him to handle it for me.  Or I wouldn't make it through.  I'm not that strong.  But, He is.

I'm thankful that in this moment, as I pack up my dreams for the next time they are awakened, my life is not ruled by how I feel.  Yes, it consumes me at times and is so overwhelmingly painful.  But, in the same times, if I keep my eyes on God to be my strength I make it through.  I went to work today - where not one person knew of what the last few weeks have held, and I looked for and found joy.  I found it in the students and their excitement for life, I found it in the beauty of a tree full of pink and yellow tissue-paper blossoms, and I found it in the smell of fresh basil being planted behind my classroom.  I came home, and found joy in the man who is always faithful and loving to me (I will forever be amazed and thankful for his choice of me).  I found joy in talking on the phone to my nephews as they lay in their beds across the ocean.  I found joy in a hot shower, in clean clothes, in an oven to bake in, in making dinner ... my heart hurts but there is joy everywhere if I look for it.

Not all of you reading this are going through infertility, and the crazy road of adoption.  But, I'm pretty sure that if you're human, you have had moments that feel like this.  So, I challenge you to look for joy.  Looking for joy doesn't mean that the stuff you're going through doesn't rip your heart into shreds.  It doesn't mean that you are "happy" - joy is so much deeper than what our world says "happiness" is all about.

And, it's there if we look. 

Let me know what you find.  :)

The beautiful secret in the night

If you know me it will come as no surprise that I do not love living in a tropical climate - and I live in Hawaii.  How I ended up here is an interesting tale, but one for a different day. :)  I dislike being sticky and hot, and having my hair turn into something that resembles an un-brushed Old English Sheepdog (it took me while to figure out a similarity to the mess of my hair - but having raised a sheepdog I think it is fitting)  I miss having Northwest fruits almost daily, I only like 2 tropical fruits that I have tried so far.  I would not go as far as to say I hate living in Hawaii - but it just is not where I hope to live for the rest of my life.  When people ask me how I like living in Hawaii I usually say that it is a fun adventure for this season of our lives.  And that is true.  There are lots of fun bits to living here - the most fun being that I get to have my husband be my top priority and all the time we get just the two of us.  But still, Hawaii is just not my dream location.

But tonight - oh tonight I had an experience that changed my view of this place.

It happened after a very long day with work: as we drove up our mountain (we live on one of Hawaii's many volcanoes) the rain increased.  We then were in the middle of thick cloud and heavy rain, and we actually drove past the cloud (we live at 3,000 feet) and pulled into our driveway.  Because it was still raining, my sweet Farmer Boy dropped me off at the door (isn't he the best?!)  and went to park our car.  I nearly did the splits slipping on the driveway - but eventually I gracefully managed to get onto the deck.

And then IT hit me.

The most enchanting fragrance I had ever experienced.  It was pitch black, heavy and hurried raindrops dancing and singing on the tin roof, and I was frozen in stunned breathlessness.

Night-blooming jasmine:  a powerfully fragrant, yet gentle as old fashioned lace floral scent rolling through the rain-drenched night air.  And I was transfixed and amazed.  Immediately I was in love: deep, abiding love - the kind that knows that years from now, if I catch the tiniest breeze of night-blooming Jasmine I will return to this little home my Love and I have made in this new and adventurous place.

I was not in love with the scent as much as I was enthralled by the One who made it.  The glorious freshness of this night, the frog chorus raising and competing with the raindrops dancing on the roof, the clouds of mist ushering me into our home, the welcome feeling and being home after a long day.  Gratitude for all He is and does.

This moment was short but powerful at a time when I needed it.  This summer has been the most difficult and painful time of our life.  Dreams we dreamed, gone in a moment.  Futures we thought would be ours changed forever, door after door slammed in our faces, hurt too deep for words or tears, questions of if ever...  I needed this reminder today.  It has been challenging this year - so challenging.  And yet - just like the rain and nighttime usher in the beauty of the night-blooming Jasmine, so sometimes the hard parts of our life usher in moments of beauty.  Or maybe they just open up our eyes to see the beauty that was there all along.  This life is messy, and crazy, and draining.  But it is also unspeakably glorious, and creative, and life-giving.

Part of the beauty that struck me was that I never get to enjoy that enthralling fragrance during the sun-filled days.  It is only in the darkness of night that the true beauty of this heavenly flower is enjoyed.  Isn't life like that?  During the days of happiness and sun-soaked life, we sometimes miss out on exquisite beauty that only come from times that may seem dark and stormy.  It's a lesson I have seen over and over again, illustrated through nature in little and enormous ways.  I know it's something God wants me to remember always.   May I be faithful to remember this light-bringing truth in the times that are dark.

 I have the blessed choice to allow the hurt of today to bring beauty into my tomorrow.

And I choose to open up and allow the beauty to sweep in where the ashes are.  I choose to breath deep of the fragrance of God's grace and goodness in this moment - because it's always there if we have eyes to see.

I'm so thankful for the night-blooming Jasmine, and the picture of beauty in unexpected places.

The Waiting Place

I was reading a children's book (  Oh The Places You'll Go  by Dr. Seuss or Theodore Geisel) to my nephew that other day, and I was struck by something the book said about waiting:

"You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles cross weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…

…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or the waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for the wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO! That’s not for you!

Somehow you’ll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You’ll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing."

(Before I go into my thoughts, I will say that I do enjoy this book and a lot of the message is very courageous and great for kids to hear!)  I was thinking about this portion of the book, and thinking how right now my husband and I are in a waiting place.  I got a message from my adoption agency contact yesterday in which she said that she knew she was asking me to do the very hardest thing in waiting.  We have done everything we can on our home study and preparing and filling out an endless amount of forms ... but now, it's time for us to wait.  We will either be finding out soon that we will be parents this year, or we'll be finding out that we have to wait a little longer for this favorite dream to come true.  And, I think that Dr. Seuss has a good point that much of waiting is very useless - if we're waiting for life to begin, or not enjoying what is happening and not getting involved in life.  BUT, I think that in some ways, waiting is often beyond our control, and waiting CAN actually be a very useful place for leaning in on our trust in God.  I'm reminded of a favorite passage in Scripture that says: "Be Still and Know that I am God!" (Psalm 46:10).  There ARE times when waiting is the only thing we can do - waiting on direction from God, waiting on prayers we have prayed, waiting on something we have put in His hands.  Waiting can be a place of so much growth and deepened dependence on God - and that is anything but useless!   

So, as we sit in this "waiting place" of our adoption journey, we choose to lean on God and trust that He will bring us out in His good time.  No, we won't stop living and stop loving and growing in this waiting place, but we will be still and know that He is God and we will leave our dreams in His very loving hands.