The Appointment

It's been a very sad week for the blog . . . with a day of appointments, a virus on one computer and a crash landing from the couch after a rugged push from tiny brown hands for the other one . . . we did not make many posts this week AND the final entries on the Raw Milk series have been postponed as well (sorry to disappoint, but at least you have more time to do some research, right?  :).

So I'm typing from my husband's tiny computer, my fingers can't find the right keys and the cursor keeps bouncing like a rubber ball around the screen; this is going to be brief.  I did however want to share a bit about the appointment we had with a pediatric neurologist for our baby girl that so many have been faithful prayer warriors for.

The doctor was wonderful, patient and thorough.  He showed me all her MRI films (very strange thing to see splices of your daughter's brain and spine), spent time watching us interact (me and the three littles, yes, all at the appointment), examining her body and observing her crawl.  He had a list of concerns and probable diagnosis, but was able to eliminate many of them throughout the appointment.

The end result was a big dose of encouragement to continue "doing what we're doing" (which includes 2 therapy sessions/week and frequent pediatrician appointments).  He said the evidence of her bond with me spoke volumes to the health of her brain (warmed this momma's heart too), and he did not see any immediate need for surgery, further treatment, or testing!  PRAISE the LORD!!!!!

This little girl has been a more vivid portrait of God's mercy than we have ever seen.  Over and again, He has spared her, brought life from tragedy, healing from sickness, and recovery from devastation.  To sum it all up - she is a little MIRACLE!

We are so grateful the Lord chose us to be her family and has allowed us to witness and partake in His glory through her tiny life.

So thank you, beloved friends and family, for standing with us at the throne, waiting for these much anticipated answers.  They were sweet words to hear, and while the road ahead is still long, our baby has the hope of a very bright future!

REJOICE!

We Are Grafted In ~ Post Featured on Adoption Blog

A recent post of ours is featured on an adoption blog, We are Grafted In, which is a site dedicated to linking families who desire to grow their families through adoption in obedience to the Lord. It's a great place and there are family amazing stories about family adoption journies that have encouraged us. Take a look!

Bonding through the Cracks

It was a 4 year journey, to the month.  Our adoption was anything but typical and we truly had no idea what we were getting into at the time, but we knew we had to be obedient to God’s call for our family, and He had made it abundantly clear, this was the way He intended for us to grow.  He had made us large vessels and we were ready to be filled.

Those years were full of classes on adoption, bonding, and fielding the inevitably offensive, but well-intentioned comments in the grocery store.  We read a few books, involved our family in an active and support adoption group in our community, and we fundraised.  Oh, did we fundraise, which is so ironic because the last thing we every saw ourselves doing was asking others for money, but God moved and we were provided for.  (More on that later because there are some incredible stories to be told).  We welcomed home countless other children into their forever families, aching a little more each time that we had not felt our own precious ones in our arms and clinging to His promises of perfect timing.

All that to say, we felt ready.  We knew there was no way to be completely prepared, but we thought if anyone had put in the time, we had, and it would all be ok.  Our clay walls felt thick and hardy from the journey.

We were so wrong.

Prayers had been lifted for months, years, beseeching the Lord to prepare our children’s hearts for their new family.  While they waited in those dire conditions for their forever home we asked for a supernatural attachment to take place, exceeding anything human.  God answered and performed a miracle, above and beyond our expectations.  Yes, there were issues and struggles for both the kids at times, but they LOVED us and they KNEW us from the first moment our eyes met (although Craig did an amazing job describing it *Redemption post*).  It was amazing.  No words describe what it truly felt like to have that tiny body finally resting in my arms, or those little arms wrapped around my neck so tight.

They were finally ours, we were finally together.  Four years and it was finally over.

Nope…it was just beginning.  We had thought that wait was nearly unbearable…it could not get any worse than being oceans apart from the helpless babes you loved with your whole heart.

The only thing worse was finally having them in our arms and realizing it was not the children who were struggling…it was us, it was me.  The clay was cracking.

But wait, I loved them more than life before we’d even met.  All those long years, I loved them.  What was going on?

I was so confused, sad, angry, frustrated, terribly sick and eventually depressed.  How could this be?  No one had mentioned not being able to fully embrace and love their adopted children from day one…it had all been about the children’s struggle…not our own.

But here we were, in Africa of all places, and I was watching our family fall apart (at least in my feeble eyes).  Everything I loved, our precious little family unit, was coming undone at the seams and I was terrified.  I wanted out; I wanted it be over; I wanted to go home and forget any of this had ever happened.  The fissures were deepening, and I wasn’t sure how long I could hold together.

Yes, it was ugly beyond imagination and I will not bear every detail because some of my thoughts were horrifying to even myself.  I was in a place I had never known I could go; in the deep crevices of my vessel there was a black sin that had never been exposed.  It was terrifying, but I was desperate.

Separation came and our family was divided for a time…some in Africa, some here at home.  My hurt turned cold and a protective layer hardened around me.   Without thought, I was keeping God out.  I was clinging to the hope that change would not come, and I was content to stay in my bitter state if that’s what it would take.

Friends pressed in.  And not just any friends, but the ones who will stay up until 3 am because they are unwilling to let you go; friends who will drop everything, even their four kids, to drive 2 hours and just sit over coffee, waiting for your vulnerable crack where questions only they could ask might seep in and find their tender landing place; friends who will pack their kids in the car and make a 9 hour journey just to rub your feet and catch your tears, do your grocery shopping and make your lists to keep you moving.  These friends, these vessels filled with the Holy Spirit pressed in, found my cracks reminded how to let the sin drain through.  Slowly at first, just a trickle, but it began.

The details of all that took place between then and now may find their way into later entries…there’s more than I can process into words all at once.  But it was a bleeding process…spilling through those splintered openings, with pain and surrender every drip of the way.

The more open those cracks became, the more freely the black muck that had sat like sludge in the bottom of my vessel began to flow.  It was my sin, my selfish heart, my perception of how life should look…not the children or anything they did or didn’t do.  It was me.  My black liquid sin.  And God began to drain it out.  One painful drip at a time.

Sometimes I felt like he was using a crowbar to widen those openings and at times I feared I would just break into a hundred pieces…honestly, at times I hoped I would and then maybe it would be over.  But then came grace.  Grace in the form of Christ’ blood patched the cracks, filled the fissures, and sealed my vessel.  And I was filled.  Filled with the LOVE of a Father who adores His children more than any words can express.  He filled my patchwork vessel and I began to see His plan, one small spec at a time.

For my husband's perspective on it all click here and then here for the follow up

4 years, 10 months, 17 days...Done

Waiting under the stairs of the courthouse.  It felt like time was crawling at a snail's pace.  My emotions were swirling.  What was I supposed to be experiencing?  Relief?  Joy? Giddy excitement? Exhaustion?  In my confusion, each sensation took a brief swirl through my body and brought eyes brimming with tears, cold sweats, yawns, giggles, and inevitably full blown sobs.

The kids made an honest attempt at patience, although the contentment brought by coloring books and snacks waned quickly.  They sensed the weight of the morning's events, yet as more friends and family surrounded us with their love and support, the children settled.

4 years and 10 months...we have waited this long to be here.  This was it.  The final step, the last event, the only thing seperating us from being fully united as a family.  And we were here.  I started to sense the wave of relief rising behind me.  Forcing steady, slow breaths and whispering praises, we clung to eachother whenever a moment allowed.

Our name was at last called and we filed into the court room, children racing to the jury box (to which the baliff said, "look, it's a jury of his peers!") as we gathered our little ones to the long table.  Surreal.

I had never expected this moment to be so significant, but my racing heart told a different story.

The kind and gentle voice of the judge led us through the formalities.  He knew.  He understand and his mannerism gave grace to the weight of his authority.  We were so blessed through the way he conducted the proceedings.

The wiggles began.  Naomi pushed and pulled on her brother until we started to play hot potato with them, transferring kids from lap to seat to lap again, hoping, praying for some stillness.

Our eyes tell more than words can, but the four little blurry heads in this picture depict the vast degree of movement going on.  "How are we going to get through this?!" we spoke to each other without words, only a chuckle.  THIS WOULD BE the way it ends...THIS is life now.  Constant moving, constant noise, and a deeper, more intimate connection than we ever dreamed we would have as husband and wife.  No words are needed.

Papers were signed.  Silas made sure everything was in order.  The judge spoke with a profound and direct statements and I couldn't help but hear my heavenly Father's words rising up.  "He has a right to FULL inheritance."  Ephesians 1:18

And then he was ours.  Not that he wasn't before.  He has been ours since April 2010 when we first heard his name and saw his sweet face.  But now, he is legally bonded to us on this earth.

Now I was feeling the excitement and I could hardly wait to hear those words again with our little girl's name placed at the center.

She pressed into me, as if she knew our lives were being joined, brought to a parallel place.

And then, she was ours.

It is truly finished.  And we cry out from a place of knowledge like never before:

"Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."

Philippians 1:6

For almost 5 years we have experienced such overwhelming love, support, graciousness, sacrifical giving, servanthood, and devotion from so many family and friends, literally around the world.  To have some of those precious ones present for this final event in our adoption, after being in Africa without them for so much, was truly significant and something we hold so very dear.  (Although we do wish we could have had every one of you by our side that day, we know hearts were present with us from a distance.)

"The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by Him we cry, “Abba, Father.”

Romans 8:15

(The word adoption in this passage is referring to the full legal standing of an adopted male in Roman culture. How cool is that!)

". . .for in You the fatherless find compassion."

Hosea 14:3

". . .for in You the fatherless find compassion."

Hosea 14:3

(This little girl's life has been bathed in the compassion of her Father from the day she was born.)

The realization quickly came that there were no more lists to write, not another call to make, all appointments had been kept, the travel was done, no documents left to sign, copy and notarize, every event had taken place.

It was truly over.

We were done.

After 4 years and 10 months . . . my mind was free from the burden of pursuing the security of my children.  I almost did not know how to function without the constant pressure of accomplishing the next task.  Strangely, I felt a little lost . . . and maybe even, a sense of loss.

I was unsettled by this out-of-place emotion.  How could it be present amidst so much fullness?

A divinely appointed conversation with my father-in-law brought clarity and peace as he shared his own heart and experience with me.  This process had come to define me for so many years, and even gave me a degree of purpose.  Now, it is done, over, and that is gone.

So . . . there is relief and joy . . . and we sing out from the grace we are bathed in daily as we press forward:

How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!
People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.

Psalm 36:7

We would like to thank you the gifted photographers who graciously spent their morning blessing our family with images that will memorialize this incredible day... Thank you, ladies!!!

Robin Anderson

and

Caryn Suehowicz @ Eikon Photography

Brown Baby Girl

Please Pray

Today our precious little one will be having testing to determine if she needs surgery on her brain and/or spine

she will be sedated completely for several hours

He KNOWS the beginning and the end, our Alpha and Omega, Bright Morning Star, and King of Kings...in Him alone we trust

I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip—

He who watches over you will not slumber;

Indeed, he who watches over Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep.

 

The LORD watches over you—

the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all harm—

he will watch over your life;

The LORD will watch over your coming and going

both now and forevermore.

Psalm 121

In case you were wondering...

An excerpt from our adoption blog I just HAD to share with you:  http://www.theorphanstable.blogspot.com/


These last posts about darkness may have left you wondering if adoption is worth it.


Consider these pictures as food for thought

These are the first pictures we received, and a recent picture of each of our precious little ones

The other night I showed Silas this first picture we received of him and said, "hey Silas do you know who that is?"

"That's Nicholas (the name given to him by the orphanage)" He replied "Daddy, is he sad?"
"Not anymore son...not anymore."