Hope

I have so much to say with the recent events in our nation and the upcoming election.  I just won't though.  It doesn't matter - and I have been in enough Facebook "debates" recently to know that no one has any real skills or desire to truly debate any of the issues.  The pervading emotion is fear.  I can't be part of that.  I have been called simple, silly, and a baby murderer just in the last week alone.  By believers.  Believers with a platform.  Oh friends....

Today, I just want to share some thoughts with you.

Jeremiah has been home 8 months now.  It has been the longest and shortest period of time in my life.  We have had two surgeries, countless doctors appointments, lots of tears, lots of smiles - fear, elation, joy, and every emotion in between.

Every time we turn into our driveway, no matter how long or short of a time we have been away Jeremiah squeals with utter delight from the backseat - "Hoooome!  We're hooome!"   He has never had that opportunity before.  Yesterday, out of the blue and for no obvious reason except whatever was going on inside of his head, Jeremiah threw his arms around Patrick and said, "Patrick, you my brother!"  The joy and excitement in his voice brought me to tears.  Ugly cry tears.  He has never been able to say that before.  This morning, on two occasions Jeremiah got angry - once with Stan and once with Lyndsey.  When asked what was wrong, he replied, "Jeremiah mad at daddy.  Jeremiah mad at G."  Then, in a few minutes he was laughing as dad tickled him and pressing Lyndsey's face close to his for a kiss.  This is a family.  He has never had that before.  He roots through the refrigerator freely, as do all of my kids.  He is cautious around strangers, but after looking at me for approval, he looks people in the eye and talks to them.  He is outgoing, happy, smart, funny - and one of the two most courageous boys I know.

Jeremiah and Patrick have inside of them a courage that I so wish I could fully describe to you.  Their stories are not mine to tell though, so there is so very much about both of them that no one knows.  No one.  As much as I am an over sharer in many ways - my boys' history, medical issues, and emotional struggles will always remain under wraps.  Unless there comes a day that they decide to share them.  Suffice it to say though that both of them are survivors to the highest extent.  They have overcome obstacles from the moment of conception that most of us can not even fathom.  They are heroes.  Even though they may have been considered "hard placements," even though their medical predictions were frightening, even though we had no idea what we were getting into.  Even though.  These two boys, born to other women - one across the country and one across the world from me - were foreordained before the creation of the world to have a chance at LIFE.  They are ROCKING that chance.

Yesterday a friend said something on her Facebook page and I want to leave you with her quote.

"This.  This is the way our family casts a PRO LIFE vote."

Parenting Trauma - When Adoption is Not the Right Thing for You

This is not going to be a popular post.  In fact, it is probably going to stir up some feelings of anger and injustice and self righteousness in some.  If that is you, the I hope it stirs you to give it some good hard thought - and lots of prayer.

It is no secret that I believe in adoption.  I believe with all of my heart that orphan care is the responsibility of believers.  I could list Scripture after Scripture of God telling us to care for the fatherless and vulnerable.  Who is more vulnerable among us than children without protectors?  I have wanted to adopt my whole life, it is just something God put on my heart as a child.  I have never questioned whether I could love "someone else's child" and I have never asked myself "what if this doesn't work out" when faced with adding a child to our family.  Honestly, never.

However, I read tons of adoption blogs and I am a member of countless FB boards about adoption.  Special needs adoption, domestic, international, older child, foster care, kids from hard places, etc.... In the six years since we adopted for the first time, I have learned many things - but the one thing that breaks my heart the most is the disruptions.  They happen all.the.time.   I know there may be a time and a place for a disruption, and God may require me to walk through that heartache at some point - but, there is one thing I can stand before Him and a watching world and declare without hesitation.  Unless one of my younger children is in danger - either of being physically harmed or sexually assaulted by a child I brought into our home - I WILL figure out how to deal.  Stan and I watched a family walk through the sorrow and horror of having to have a beloved son, whom they adopted, placed in a group facility.  He tried multiple times to kill them and his brother, who they also adopted at the same time.  They moved to several states, tried several different schools and counselors, they spent years trying to parent this son - and no one could have.  Through no fault of his own, his life prior to entering their home had just completely ruined him for normal life in a family.  So incredibly sad.  They live near his group home to this day and visit him daily.  He is loved and I believe they did the absolute only thing they could have in this situation.  Sadly, this is not the norm when things go south with an adoption.

More often, the child enters the family, shows signs of Reactive Attachment Disorder (which can not be accurately diagnosed in a week or a month or even six months) and the family says, "Well, it didn't work out."  Yes, there is much more emotion involved than that, but that is truly the crux of it.  And then what happens?  That poor child is rejected again, told in deed if not words that they are not worth it.  There are even disruptions years after an adoption for the simple reason of "oops, we got pregnant."  Or families bring home a five year old when they already have a five year old and then say "oops, we can not handle two five year olds."  Yes, those are absolute real life examples that I have personally seen happen.  And this from followers of Christ!!!  Folks, the world is watching us.  Watching us walk out on our marriages and our children.  And they are supposed to know us by our love.

Every single day on the FB adoption boards I am part of, I see the posts.  "Which agency is the quickest to find a child with "minor" special needs?"  To which I want to scream from the rooftops - "Get a goldfish!!!"  There are NO "minor" special needs when it comes to adoption.  Yes, I know what they mean - a "minor" physical needs, with little long term impact.  But, friends - emotional needs are much more lingering and difficult to parent than physical ones.  Believe me.  I have two little boys - one born with a club foot - which was seriously a non-need and the other with a more serious file - several surgeries, but still not a "major long term" issue.  Our third son is coming to us with no physical health issues that we are aware of.  But, all three of my little boys are traumatized.  They had traumatic breaks in their lives and the body does not forget that easily.  It fights to remember.

If you do not know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can handle the emotional impact of adoption, then donate to an adoption fund - there are people who can.  These children deserve better than a half hearted attempt.  And if you are willing to disrupt without exhausting absolutely every available resource and sometimes even being willing to say "this child will never love me and I will love him anyway because I am the adult here" - then maybe it is not for you.  And you know what, that is ok.  There are more ways than one to be a part of the orphan crisis.

There was a time I would not have said this.  There was a time I would have blasted the church for its seeming lack of desire to be part of orphan care.  (Ok, I still am more than willing to blast the church for that - I have rarely seen a more apathetic group than the "church" in America).  But, now I have been deep in this lifestyle for six years and I have seen things that I honestly never thought I would see.  These children are hurt - and we are not training new adoptive parents on how to handle it.  They are expected to be "grateful" and so glad to have a family.  They are expected to behave maturely in situations that they have never encountered - like the family dinner table maybe.  These children are wounded, terrified, and lonely.  All of those hurts are manifested mostly as anger.  Hurt people hurt people.  We all know it is true, but we don't want to deal with it when the rubber meets the road.

When we first got home with Jeremiah, Patrick was really struggling with not being the baby anymore.  Six years is a long time to have an entire house full of adults catering to you.  What made me the saddest was that Patrick is the one who "found" Jeremiah on the website.  He prayed to be a big brother, he told literally everyone about his little brother in China.  He talks about orphan care to everyone (and he is adopted himself which he also loves to talk about).  Several weeks after we got home, after a particularly hard day, I asked Patrick to talk to me about how he was feeling.  Sadly, he said, "I just liked his picture better."

Now, thankfully, things are looking up and they are slowly but surely becoming brothers.  But, that statement has resonated with me for the past three months.  "I liked his picture better."  Isn't that true of the way most people view orphan care?  We don't want to see pictures of sad and starving orphans.  We want to do something.  When we hear that 18,000 children die every single day from hunger related disease, we are appalled.  We "love" their pictures.

But, each of those pictures represents a real flesh and blood human.  With a personality and mannerisms that may get on your nerves.  Each of those pictures represents a person, one who is hiding more traumatic experiences behind those soulful eyes than you or I will likely ever even hear about in our lifetimes, much less actually experience.  These kids are hurt.  And we are the adults.  Patrick is six, so he gets some grace.  When you or I go through a year long process to bring a child into our homes, we do not get to say "I liked your picture better."

It is hard work.  It is down and dirty and exhausting.  It hurts - physically, emotionally, and mentally.  Spiritually it will tear you apart.  You will rage at God sometimes screaming "WHERE are YOU?"  You will take one step forward and 400 back.  And sometimes, the breakthrough never happens.  Sometimes he or she is still mean and catty.  Sometimes the anger is barely simmering under the surface and often it explodes.  Your other kids don't know what is going on.  It is messy.  And sometimes you just have to say, "I love you anyway."

Friends, I don't mean to be harsh - just real.  I think the time has passed for sugar coating adoption and showing pictures of these precious smiling babies without talking about the other side.  Every picture on my blog of Patrick and Jeremiah is real.  Every single one.  They do smile, a lot.  They belly laugh and they play.  But sometimes they sob - gut wrenching cries of grief, unlike anything I have ever heard in my life.  Sometimes Patrick wants to know why.  Why did my first mommy not want me?  Jeremiah will want to know too.  Those questions are deep and raw.  And you must - you MUST be prepared to deal with them.

You must know that when you bring a teenager into your home, he or she will not immediately be thankful.  Why would they?  They have no obligation to love you.  You are not the first person to tell them this is forever.  Or to say "I will love you no matter what."  Everyone says that, until it gets hard.  Until they yell "You are not my mom." or "I don't want a dad."  Teenagers know where to strike to draw the most blood.  Believe me, I have a few of them myself - and biological or adopted, they go for the gut.  Add trauma to that and oh my goodness.

Friends, please.  Dig deep into yourself before you start the adoption process.  Play out the worst case scenarios in your mind.  Be sure that God is leading.  There are many many options for supporting those who He does lead to adopt.  Be very very sure that you are not stepping out on your own.   It is the most rewarding thing I have ever done - but, it is not easy.  I think that for far too long, we have unintentionally been misleading by only blogging about the good times.  We want to celebrate those - but there is so much more that needs to be talked openly about.

Talk to many people, leave me a comment, do your research before you enter this world.  It will grow you and stretch you unlike anything else I can imagine - but you need to be prepared.

Mother's Day

Twenty-two years ago I became a Mom.  Mother's Day takes on a whole new meaning at that point.  I believe that Mother's Day is a day to celebrate all women, because women are nurturing by nature and whether or not someone calls you "Mommy" you matter, and the investments you make into the lives of others count.  I know though that for those struggling with infertility, or the loss of a child - or for my single mom friends, this is a very hard day.  I am so sorry for the pain you are in and the reminders that are particularly hard this weekend.

There are another group of ladies for whom this weekend is painful and bittersweet.  They are largely forgotten and until you are personally invested with one of these amazing ladies, you don't realize the depth of their emotion.  I am referring to the birth moms.

Six years ago I sat in a "crunchy" organic cafe in the art district of a metropolitan city and ate a spinach salad with my Patrick's birth mom.  Then she handed me "our" baby, all five pounds of him, and she walked away.  That was one of the most profound moments of my life.  Despite the mistakes she made in her life leading up to his birth, she managed - with God's help - to keep him safe for nine months.  She held him close to her heart then and for the nine days following his birth.  She rocked him, she sang to him, and he knew her voice.  Then she did something that quite frankly, I don't think I would have the courage to do.  She chose a life for him that she could not provide, despite the pain in her own heart.  She is a hero.  

Less than three months ago another profound moment occurred when we stood in a large room with over 40 friends who had become family in a miraculously short time - and watched 14 orphanage directors walk in with our new children.  We held Jeremiah in our arms that day after an 11 month paper pregnancy that left me as weak and spent as any delivery has ever done.  When I looked in his eyes, I thought immediately of his birth mom.   Short of a miracle, I will  never get to share a salad with this one.  I will never get to tell her that her baby boy, the one she loved and cherished for five whole months, is happy.  That he is healthy and that his medical needs are being addressed.  We can only assume that she could not provide what he needed medically and so she let him go.  Despite being in a country where letting him go was illegal and had to be done in secret - she risked everything to do what was best for her baby, knowing she would never lay eyes on him again.  Would I have that kind of courage?  I am going to be honest and say that I am not sure I would.  That is true sacrificial love.  The kind that makes my heart squeeze with emotion.

These two women birthed my children.  My beloved sons.  The magnitude of that is crazy huge.  Because of these women they have characteristics, mannerisms, and talents that have nothing to do with Stan or me.  Yet, we get to nurture those.  We get to watch them become all that God has for them.  It isn't fair.  Not at all.  It is hard and I just want to wrap these women up in a hug and tell them how very sorry I am that life is not fair and at the same time how very grateful I am for the precious gifts they left to us.  Yet, I can't do that.  Circumstances do not allow me to be able to do that with either one - and the further down this path I get, the fear that once accompanied the thought of adoption, is replaced by a longing that can only come from God Himself.  A longing that I could sit over a cup of tea with my children's first mommies.  That I could hug them tight and tell them all about "our" boys.  The knowledge that there is a "village."  Not the village that some people want us to buy into, but a sisterhood.  A village of mamas who only want what is best for these children that God has given - no matter what the circumstances.  Their births were not accidents or surprises to Him.  Their lives matter - to each of us, to the world.  We only want to get this right and it takes all of us, for these women are part of my children.  Their blood, not mine, flows in their veins.  And that matters.  It matters, for the men they grow into will be because of both of us.  And there is a time and a place when our worlds collided - and even if I never get to see them again (or ever), our worlds will forever be united.  We will forever both fiercely love the same little boys, who will one day be men. The magnitude of God's great and awesome ability to weave HIStory together into something so gloriously messy and beautiful never ever ceases to amaze me.  And the fact that He is allowing me to be just a tiny part of that tapestry is nothing short of a miracle.

Last night Stan and I watch a new documentary called Closure on Netflix.  It is the story of a 25 year old adoptee finding her birth mom and dad for the first time.  I won't give any of it away to you, because you should watch it.  I just sat and cried because recently God has been replacing what used to be a fear in my heart, with a longing.  A longing to watch my world collide with the worlds of my sons' birth families.  Three worlds that could not be more different.  I can picture myself around a tea table in China with the lady who gave birth to Jeremiah.  I can see myself at a large backyard barbecue with Patrick's birth family.  I can see us crying together and laughing at the amazing, awe inspiring God who did this thing in our families.  I long for the day.

So - even though I am a day late posting this - Happy Mother's Day to us all.  Women who invest in others, women who have loved and lost, women who have loved in the gap, women with wayward children, single moms, grandmothers, counselors, encouragers -- we all matter.  It is cliche to say that they hand that rocks the cradle rules the world - but friends, I believe it does.  We can raise warriors, no matter where they started or how rough their beginnings were.  And though most of us have no desire to "rule" the world - I have yet to meet a mama who doesn't want to change the world we are leaving for our children.

We have the power, with God's help, to lay down our lives for that very cause.

Happy Mother's Day!!!!

Journey to Jeremiah - Update

It has now been about 10 weeks since our little man was placed in our arms.  We have been home for over 8 of those weeks.  Since I last wrote about attachment, Jeremiah has continued to thrive.  He has meshed right in with our family and is doing exceptionally well.  Patrick is struggling a bit.  His world has been rocked to the core and I admit to being a bit disappointed in his jealousy.  I knew he would have his moments but he has struggled much more than I anticipated.  I think he is also disappointed in himself, which breaks my heart.  He loves Jeremiah and talks about him constantly when he is not with him.  But, when we are all together at home (he does extremely well out and away from the house) but at home, he is so jealous every time Jeremiah comes near me.  It has reveled some issues in Patrick that we have frankly ignored over the past couple of years and should have addressed before now.  Patrick is adopted from birth and I foolishly assumed that we would avoid many of the trauma behaviors that children who are adopted often have.  I did not take into consideration that Patrick's in utero experience was rough (understatement of the year).  He had to fight to survive and he is still fighting.  So now we are addressing Patrick's needs as well as Jeremiah's and Mama is T-I-R-E-D.  

Trauma is exhausting.

Attachment is exhausting.

Doctor's appointments are exhausting.

Parenting is just plain exhausting.

Tell us something we don't know, said all the moms.

Well, adoption is absolutely amazing.  Every morning when I look at their faces, I see the very heart of God in my home.  MY home.  And I do not deserve it.  Jeremiah said "I love you" unprompted for the first time on Saturday.  We spent the day in a little town a short drive from our home and we were walking around the town square, playing, having their faces painted, running in the grass, laughing.  All of a sudden, he threw his arms around my neck and said "I love you Mama."  

Melt.My.Heart.

When I look at his huge smile, hear his belly laugh, and watch him play and explore the world around him every day I am just in awe of the God who redeems.  He reaches down into our most broken places and picks us up.  He gives us things we don't even realize we need.  Jeremiah had no idea he needed a family - and we had no clue how much we needed him.  

Both of my little boys show me every day the Father's heart towards us.  "For He predestined us for adoption as sons, through Jesus Christ."  And now we have the right to be called Children of God, the very same as natural born children.  (my paraphrase)   God uses all of our children in various ways to reveal Himself to us - to grow us, stretch us beyond anything we thought we were capable of.  We fight for this life.  We fight for their lives and their health and their emotional stability.  

If not us, then who??? 

Now for a more practical update of our lives for those interested.  We have started the process of addressing Jeremiah's physical needs.  Mentally and developmentally he appears right on track, if not advanced.  Physically he is very healthy apart from his "special need" which is hypospadias and undescended testicles.  We received all of his blood work back (after much drama trying to get a blood draw).  Jeremiah is now termed a "difficult draw" and can only have blood drawn under sedation - per the instructions of the best pediatric IV team that our children's hospital has.  Yikes!!  That's tough.  But, they have been amazing and we got what we needed for his diagnostic tests and his basic bloodwork.  So, all of his bloodwork looks perfect as far as "health" is concerned.  He has clearly been well cared for.  

His special need is, in and of itself, not a big deal.  The big deal is that these needs are usually addressed and repaired under a year old, so they become a bit more involved and traumatic in an almost four year old.  After about three weeks now of almost constant doctor's appointments and attempted blood draws, we are good to go.  We will see the doctor next week to put a date on the calendar for the surgery to repair both issues and then hopefully put the medical part of this process well in the rearview mirror.  (I will save my post about the current state of our "sick care" system for another day). 

In the past few weeks we have also had Jeremiah's first dentist appointment, regular chiropractor visits (which he adores, as we all do - our chiro is THE most amazing person), countless baseball games for Graham, multiple trips to the zoo, the science museum, the children's museum, all the parks in the vicinity, and a visit from our NC family - which was amazing!  

Jeremiah seems to know his colors and how to count in Chinese and he is diligent about learning to do the same in English.  His favorite things right now are the dog, splashing in the pool (but not going under), taking a million showers a day (but not wetting his hair), eating toast and seaweed, peeing on the potty (but not consistently enough to call it potty trained), watching Paw Patrol, and reading Brown Bear Brown Bear.  He loves outings and he loves playing at the park.  He babbles literally all the time.  He is still mostly attached to me, but when I leave him home for short periods with the other kids he "gets over it" pretty quickly.  Stan and I have even been on two dates, which was amazing!  He sleeps all night, only sitting up for water once or twice soon after falling asleep.  

In other news our life is nuts right now.  In the midst of our crazy, Bryce graduated from college last week and we celebrated her with brunch at a local resort.  We leave in a couple of weeks for Florida, where Lyndsey will graduate from high school and then stay in Florida for a few more weeks.  The rest of us will return to Arizona, take care of Jeremiah's surgeries and finish the wedding plans.  Bryce and Jacob get married mid-August and she moves to Texas.  By then school will be starting again and I will be tutoring Patrick and Jeremiah's Classical Conversations class, Lyndsey will be taking college courses, Graham will be in High School (still at home), and there is a very real possibility we will be adopting another son who is Patrick's age.

Anyone want to join me for a nap?

I do love my crazy life! Enjoy a few pictures of our growing tribe!

Happy Resurrection Day!

Brunch to celebrate Bryce's graduation!

Face Painting in the square in Prescott! (the day J said "I love you.")

Hallelujah and Amen

I read the best blog post today.  You should go and read it before you continue this one.  You can find it here.

I think my favorite quote is this, "Yes, we are a Hallelujah people, and redemption is our song. But let’s not cheapen that redemption by acting like it wasn’t costly."

I snapped this picture just a few minutes ago.  It has already been a month and I still look at him and simply can not believe he is here.  It is over...the paperwork, the hours in the car, the waiting game.  Yet, truly that was the easy part.  It is actually only just beginning.  The bonding, the attachment, the medical needs, the language hurdles.  The important things.  The ones that come with lasting consequences if we don't get them right - or if God doesn't show up.  

God always shows up, you say.

And you would be right.  He does.  But, I can tell you with no hesitation that He does not always show up the way I want Him to.  Sometimes us "Hallelujah People" have to wait for Sunday for a very very long time.  Sometimes Sunday only comes on the "other side."  I know too much to think otherwise.  I know the stats on human trafficking and child rape.  I know there are hundreds of thousands of children who need homes, both internationally and here in America.  Our foster system is full of lonely children - they are broken, confused, and that is displayed to those around them as anger and aggression.  I know there are millions of homeless people worldwide who are not lazy or looking for a handout, but who truly need help - their story could be mine, or yours.  Where is God?  

That is the question of the ages, right?  Why doesn't He "show up?"  The question we really want to ask it "why doesn't He fix it?"  He could reach down and point His cosmic finger and BOOM - fixed.  He could just speak it, like He did in the beginning.  

But, He is not going to.

How do I know this?  Don't I believe in miracles?  Absolutely I do.  Every single day.  Look at that face up there.  He is my miracle.  So are his brothers and sisters.  So are the boys yet to join our family.  (Yes, there are more to come)  So are my sons and daughters in law to come and my grandchildren - biological and adopted.  I submit to you that the olive shoots around your table are without a doubt your greatest contribution to this absolutely broken world.  The "blessings" we all love to talk about are not what we think they are.  They are not money, houses, vacations.  They are people.  Living, breathing, broken people.  Just like me.  People that are needy - stuck, as the author that the blog post said, in the "messy middle."  And sometimes friends, it costs us everything. Hallelujah, Sunday is coming.  But, here and now this life is made up of a lot of Saturdays.  And you know what, God IS here.  He is here in the broken and messy.  He gives us glimpses of what is to come.  That glorious day when He will show up in a way that can no longer be denied by the majority.  

Oh - what a day!  I can't wait - this very second would not be too soon for me!

Come Lord Jesus!  

Happy Resurrection Day to all of you.  Let's be people that show up every day and sit in the mess with those who are hurting.  After all, don't you want someone to sit in your mess with you when it is your turn?

Journey to Jeremiah - Part 4 - Bonding and Attachment

Attachment, bonding, grieving, connection, trauma, RAD....these are the terms and conditions that I have analyzed (ok, overanalyzed), read countless books about, studied, prayed and cried over these past 11 months.  I thought about them when we adopted Patrick almost six years ago, but I thought adopting from birth was a guarantee that these issues would not affect your family.  It's not.

Adoption and trauma go hand in hand.  Always.  No matter what the circumstances behind an adoption - there is a tragedy involved.  What to us is a moment of long anticipated joy is to our children the culmination of a series of traumatic events leading them to a place they never wanted to go.  Whether it happened after only nine months in the womb and 9 days out of it, as it did for Patrick or whether it was three and half years worth of events leading up to "that" day - as it was for Jeremiah - there is still trauma and tragedy and heartache.  Yes, Patrick's "break" was easier on the surface.  His mind can not remember his birth mother.  But, his body can.  Her DNA is a part of him and it always will be.  There is connection in our cells and when that connection tragically breaks, there is long term pain involved.  Patrick is totally and completely attached to me - and to our family.  He is.  And yet, there are issues that arise from time to time that can only be explained by the trauma he endured in utero and the break that happened soon after.  Those things are irrelevant to our love for him or even to his day to day activities.  But, they are very relevant to the man he is growing into.  They are part of him and we can not deny them - it would only add another tragedy to his life if we attempted to.

Jeremiah's story is a little more complicated on the surface.  How their respective stories will affect the men they grow into remains to be seen.  Jeremiah does remember.  Not his birth parents - that break was made early, and his mind can not remember it.  Yet, it is still a combination of their DNA that makes up his physical body.  What he does remember are the caretakers he has had since he lost his birth parents.  We are eternally grateful that his caretakers have been kind, loving, and godly.  His life has been happy and settled.  He has been well cared for, fed, kissed and played with.  He is developmentally on track and at least in my experience, well advanced in many ways for a three year old.  The problem is that no matter how wonderful of an environment you live in, when you are an orphan, living in an orphanage - that is not a family.  It is a type of "familial" living and in his case, it was a very very good representation.  But, a representation is not the real thing.  And his nannies, though they loved him dearly, were not the same as a Mama.  It was their job to love him.  I love him because he is mine.

Bonding and attachment are intentional work.  They don't just happen.  I believe that love is a choice.  God led us to Jeremiah and we chose him 11 months ago.  We began at that point to choose to love him.  I understand, because I talk to hundreds of women about this, that adoption is not an easy choice for some people.  The thought of loving "someone else's child" is overwhelming to many women (and men too I suppose, I just talk mostly to women).  They want to want to - but, they think they just can't.  For me, this is the easy part.  It never crossed my mind that I would not love Patrick and Jeremiah as much as I love my biological children.  It just didn't.  Now, I knew that adopting an older child may be somewhat different in the beginning than adopting a newborn.  Patrick was handed to me weighing five pounds.  He really had not formed any distinguishable personality yet and he was a tiny, precious baby.  I wrapped him up in my sling and carried him around just like my first four children.  And I fell in love with him as he fell in love with me.

Jeremiah came to us with a personality intact.  A pretty strong one, I might add.  I was prepared that I may have to "fake it til I felt it" with him, as I have heard many people say.  I know that three is a hard age anyway and I was prepared that he may have habits and mannerisms that just got on my nerves.  Ya know?  Like when you babysit someone else's child and you love them and you are kind to them, because they are a child and you are an adult, and you just do.  But, they do things that just get on your nerves.  It's ok to admit, we have all felt it.

I can honestly say however, that I do love him.  He doesn't get on my nerves and he hasn't really displayed any habits (yet anyway) that are particularly annoying to me.  If you are reading and you did have a hard time with bonding, please don't feel defeated or "less than" or any of that.  Every person and every child and every situation is different.  I could adopt again and have a totally different experience - and so could you.

Attachment, I would define as the act of forming the true parent/child bond with your child.  When we talk about attachment in adoption circles, we all kind of mean whatever is the opposite of RAD.  It is a scary acronym to those of us who adopt older children.  I guess a child of any age could have RAD, but somehow we mostly equate it with the "older" ones.  Those who have already had their little wills shaped by someone else, someone who is not you.  We read books and blogs and we scare ourselves too death about the horrors of reactive attachment disorder.  And it is a real thing, and it happens.  A lot.  We want to do it right and be sure that nothing we do tips the scales the wrong way.  It is a lot of pressure.

Attachment is not something that happens automatically.  It takes real, intentional work.  You can not just jump back into your busy schedule with a newly adopted toddler or older child.  These children thrive on consistency.  Their entire world has been turned upside down.  They have no idea what or who they can count on anymore.

We arrived home two weeks ago, and today marks one month since our Gotcha Day.  So, it is still early to talk about complete bonding and attachment.  We are doing very very well, but there are still moments that it is painfully clear that we have a long way to go.

For our family, bonding has looked like spending a lot of time playing, singing, eating (so much eating).  Food is a really important tool for bonding.  What may look like bribery - and sometimes is - is also a huge factor for trust.  Jeremiah came to us very well fed and well taken care of.  That is not always the case.  However, even though he has never had to perform for his meals or wonder if he was going to get one - the fact is that he had no way to know if we could be trusted.  Food is a huge thing.  I know for me, one of my biggest concerns about our trip to China was food.  What if we can't find anything suitable to eat?  I brought a suitcase full of food - it was my security blanket in a way.  How much more so for a three year old being thrust into a situation that he did not choose and had no say in.  What if they don't feed me????  It has to be something that runs through their little minds.  So, we met him at the door with lollipops and crackers.  We allowed him to eat as much as he wanted when we would go to the restaurant for a meal.  We gave him snacks every time he asked.  We kept his cup of water full all the time and in plain sight.  Now that we have had him for a month, he has learned that we are going to feed him.  So, after he eats two bananas, then I can steer him in another direction when he asks for a third, knowing that he is not really hungry.  We still have a full water bottle near him all the time and we still offer snacks and meals more frequently than we will as time goes on.  But, I think we have cleared the food hurdle for the most part.  He does love to eat though, and has been so compliant about trying new foods.  We have learned that, in addition to his "staples" of seaweed sheets, noodles, and bananas - his "new" loves are olives, yogurt frozen into a popsicle, toast with butter, and dried peas.  Sometimes he eats these all at the same time, because you know - choices are HARD.

As we settle into our new normal, I am realizing what I already knew would be true.  This whole thing is about me.  What I mean by that is not what it sounds like.  Many would say (and do say to us daily) that Jeremiah is so "lucky" (I don't like that word and do not believe in luck) or they will say he is so "blessed" to have us.  In fact, it is the other way around completely - if I believed in luck, then there is no doubt that the "lucky" ones are us.  We GET to.  We need him a lot more than he needs us. Because you know what, God could have used anyone.  He could have picked someone far more qualified.  But, that's the thing about God.  He is just so - GOD.  He wants to draw us to a place that we never would have gone on our own.  A place where He must show up or we just couldn't make it.  Never make the common mistake of believing that God will never give you more than you can handle.  That is not Biblical and I promise you it is not true.  God absolutely will give you more than you can handle.  If He wouldn't, this chic would not be attempting to mother six children - I can assure you of that.  I am a complete and utter disaster.  There is absolutely nothing I feel truly good about in my life.  Most days I fall into bed feeling like a complete failure.  Overwhelmed with all the "little" things of life that add up to make a huge boulder in the path.  I never feel like enough in any area of my life.

But God.....He shows up in sticky kisses and giggles.  He is there when teenagers hold your hand.  He whispers I love you in the voice of a five year old who has been missing his Mom and just wants to snuggle.  He tells me over and over that though I never deserved this life, He gave it to me just because He can.  He delights to give us the desires of our heart - and a long time ago, I decided that the only true desire in my heart is to follow Him into the deepest places.  I stumble, I fall, I fail - I feel like I fail much more than I succeed.  Yet, somehow we keep moving in forward motion.  We keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Somehow, I have amazing adult children, teenagers who love me (and like me most of the time), and now two little boys who fight over who gets to snuggle with Mama.  Honestly, my life is nothing like I thought it would be at this point, but it is far more than I ever dreamed or imagined.

God is there - and that is really all that matters in the end.  I am so eternally grateful.

I will leave you with a few pictures from the past couple of weeks.  That smile -- oh my goodness, it melts my heart.  Watching him learn to accept our love is a beautiful picture of how God knits hearts together.  It seems like yesterday we were in that Gotcha room, but at the very same time, I don't know how we ever lived without this little guy.  Our family was definitely missing someone - and I am so thankful we found him!!

Journey to Jeremiah - Part 3 - We Gotcha Baby Boy!

The morning dawned early for all of us.  Too excited to sleep, we all went to breakfast.  Someone had suggested that we get together to pray before we left to get the babies.  We were to leave at 9:30 and the babies would arrive at the registration office sometime before 12:30, depending on when they left their orphanages.  About six or seven families (some missed the "memo" and did not realize we were getting together) met in the lobby for the prayer time.  We dragged our chairs into a tight circle and huddled together, heads bowed - not completely unaware of the fact that the huge bubble camera attached to the ceiling above us was watching and likely recording every word.  We started out sharing our thoughts, our fears, what was going through our minds here at the last hour.  Then we took turns praying.  Corporate prayer is such a powerful thing.  Obviously God hears and responds to every prayer we utter or even think, but where two or more are gathered the Spirit falls in a unique and powerful way.  We prayed for our children of course, for each other, the other children we brought with us, for adoption in general, for China - the country we had come to dearly love - for the nannies and foster mommies who had loved on our babies in the interim, for their birth Mamas.  We prayed for the tragic circumstances that our precious ones had faced to bring them to this point.  Our hearts were full to bursting with excitement, joy, anticipation - their hearts were about to break.  We felt the full weight of that knowledge in that moment and it was beautiful and it was messy, and it hurt.  God had given each of us the most amazing responsibility - the responsibility to raise another one of His children and point them back to Him.  None of us gathered in that room that morning took that lightly.

We left for the Registration office, where we were to meet the orphanage directors and nannies that would bring us our children.  Jeremiah's orphanage was about three hours away, so I did not expect that he would be there when we arrived.  Our large group all received our children together, but we were divided for bus rides, even when we were going to the same place.  This is a picture of us with the six other families that we were with the majority of the time.

It was Monday, February 15th in China, but in the US it was Sunday evening, the 14th.  Valentine's Day.  Clearly, the best one any of us had ever had.  What better day to receive the gift that represents the very heart of the gospel - the very definition of Love itself?  

We walked up those concrete stairs and through the front door, armed with bags of "distractions."  Hand held toys, cars, dolls, stacking blocks and lollipops.  Lots of lollipops.  It looked like any other government building and a dim hallway led to the "Gotcha" Room.  It was just a large room with a few chairs lining the edges.  The nannies or orphanage directors would bring the kids there to meet us.

As I knew it would, our Gotcha was not like anything I had imagined.  Mostly because I totally and completely jumped the gun and ran away with it.  We were coming down the hall en masse with our group, having been warned over and over by our guides that most likely none of the kids would be there yet and not to worry or be anxious.  They would all make it.  Because patience is not my virtue, I peeked through the crowd into the room and I looked down.  And there he was.  All I remember is yelling over my shoulder to Stan and the kids, "Jeremiah is already here!"  And I pushed through the crowd.  

I didn't mean to.  I didn't think about it.  But, I saw him and I just couldn't stop myself.  I squatted down right in front of him.  I don't recall seeing the orphanage director or anyone else for a few minutes.  

Then everyone else saw what was going on and pushed forward.  And they just jumped on him.  I keep imagining that he actually recognized us, thanks to all of "Aunt" Carol's hard work showing him pictures of us so often.  He didn't cry and after checking me out for just a couple of seconds, he broke into a huge grin.  His orphanage buddy, Louie, who also lived with Jeremiah at Shanghai Healing Home (more on that) was also there.  Everyone else in our group just jumped in there and started snapping pictures and making videos.  We had vowed to help each other capture as many moments as we could.  At that moment, I could not see anyone except Jeremiah and the rest of my family as they gathered around him.

It was surreal really, I don't know how else to put it.  It was a day that I had dreamed so much about, worked so hard for.  I had tried to prepare for it, but you never really can.  The emotions are completely overwhelming.  And being in a room filled with other people experiencing the same thing made every emotion intensified.  I used to be a very private person.  I like being alone.  When I was younger, I never wanted to talk to older women - I didn't want a mentor.  I didn't want to open up to anyone.   I just wanted to be inside my own head, to work it out alone.  As I have gotten older, I have found that you miss so much by not sharing life's personal moments and struggles with others.  We are all broken.  God sent me my first mentor about 12 years ago, and having her in my life has taught me that I need my sisters in Christ.  Stan needs his brothers.  We need people that we can share life's joys and heartaches with - God created us to live in community.

So, a community "delivery room" is about the best explanation I can think of for the Gotcha Day scenario when you have a large group like we did.  We would stare at our babies - still a bit in disbelief that the long anticipated day had come - hug them, and then carry them around the room to snap pictures and ooh and aah over our friend's babies.  For two hours we watched the children come in, we heard the cries and the laughter.  We took thousands of pictures and videos.  We laughed and cried with each other.  We took in the emotion of the reactions of others.  Some people laughed when they first saw their babies, some gave shy smiles and patiently waited for the children to make the first move, some barreled into it with no reservation (that was mostly the kids), some broke down in sobs, and some people literally fell to their knees - praising God and absolutely overcome.  It was a beautiful, glorious picture of heaven.  It was just a sliver of what that glorious day will look like.  When our faith culminates and all of our hopes become our reality.  Gotcha Day is just a little like that.  And I believe God was smiling.

By noon the last of the children had arrived.  We gathered our things and our new little ones and headed back to the buses.  Then began the work of bonding.  Grief is no joke.  And make no mistake, these kids are grieving.  But, they are tough and courageous.  They are made of the stuff of heroes.  Next post I will talk about the bonding process and how that has looked for our family.  It is so different for everyone and really nothing that can be predicted.  I do think that many people in the adoption world today are not prepared for the intensity of the grieving process and often give up too soon.  These precious souls have faced tragedies the likes of which most of us can not comprehend.  They are wounded.  But, they are oh so resilient.  So incredibly brave.  They fight for a fresh start and we have the holy opportunity to fight with and for them.  It is a privilege and an honor that we are so very grateful God has given to our family.  Thank you for reading and for being a part of our journey. Your prayers, your support, your love for our kids mean more than you can ever begin to know.

Journey to Jeremiah - Part 2

So, I am a worrier, a dreamer, and kind of a downer.

If you have read my blog long - or ever - you are thinking....duh.  NO way.

I dreamed up the absolute most fearful 12 hour flight to Beijing that you can imagine.  I mean, picture a Boeing 797 doing the stunts of the Blue Angels (and not on purpose).   You know, the one and only thing that is half way comforting about my ridiculous tendencies is that the reality is rarely as horrific as I dream it up to be.  The problem of course, is all the time I waste dreading something that I can't change.  I am pretty sure God speaks about that in Scripture many, many (many) times.

Anyway, as He always is, He was there.  "His faithfulness reaches to the heavens..." (and it certainly reaches up to 40,000 ft.)  If the flight was turbulent I don't recall.  Truly.  No fear.  And it actually went by way faster than I ever dared hope.

We landed in the Beijing Airport at 7:00 pm China time - the day AFTER we left Arizona.  Such a surreal thing - to "fly over" an entire day.  There was one other family from our travel group on our flight.  They also had three of their other children with them and our CCAI guide Jason was waiting for us at the baggage claim.

I want to pause to give a shout out to CCAI.  There are situations where your child's file can not be picked up by CCAI, and you can't use them.  But, you guys, if there is ANY way at all for you to use Chinese Children Adoption International - then you absolutely must.  I am sure there are other great agencies, but I can not imagine how anyone could be any better.  Their customer service is beyond compare.  Our guides did everything but tuck us in at night.  NO joke.  Maybe some people don't want to have their hands held, but for us rookie travelers - YES please.  Help me cross the street, I am so good with that.

Anyway, so Jason met us at the airport, with the bus (and driver - Master Su) and off to the hotel we went.  On the way, he gave us the schedule for the weekend's activities and lots of history of Beijing. Jason had a habit of repeating himself.  He said literally everything at least twice - and he hit the important things (like what time to be back on the bus the next day) three or four times in one sentence.  You could tell this was not Jason's first rodeo and he likely learned long ago that the Americans do not listen very well.

By the time we got into the room and settled, we were ready for bed.  Since we had eaten on the plane, we had some protein bars, took a melatonin (those things have literally saved my sanity these last few weeks), and off to sleep we went.  Considering our internal clocks were way off, we were up bright and early and off to breakfast in the hotel dining room where we met the rest of our travel group.  These families deserve their own post, so I won't go into much detail except to say that we met 13 other families during our time in China, and they are life long friends now.  No doubt, there are not that many people on the planet that I have shared moments as intimate as the ones we shared in that Gotcha room on the 15th.  We're getting there.....

After breakfast, we all went to the bus.  Jason showed up at breakfast in a BRIGHT yellow coat and a  large red flag with CCAI printed on it.  He was going to make sure that all of his charges were accounted for and safely delivered to the next city.  Bless him, he was awesome!!

The first day we toured Tienanmen Square and the Forbidden City.  Then, we took individual rickshaw rides to a private residence, where the owners served a home made lunch to our entire group.  With 14 families, lots of us bringing other children, and two bringing grandparents - we had a grand total of 43 traveling together.

It was a wonderful day of seeing the capital city and some of the most famous landmarks in China.  Glimpsing the culture of our future children was important and eye opening.  On the surface, I learned that the Chinese people are very cold natured, they love tall blonde Americans and follow them around like the paparazzi, they have no personal space limitations and don't mind walking in a herd with their bodies literally pressed together and moving along like a tidal wave.

On a deeper level, I learned that everyone should be the minority at some point.  Experiencing a period of time when I could not understand anyone, didn't look like anyone, and most often found everyone staring at me was disturbing and yet very profound.  It opened my heart just a little more to the plight of my brothers and sisters of all races and the prejudices that still sadly exist in our country. A nation that was founded to give shelter and refuge to the masses - meant to be a melting pot, a land of opportunity.  Yet, we have not come nearly far enough in areas that really matter.

I learned that Jeremiah's people are strong, beautiful, smart, and they are survivors.  The Chinese birth mamas have encountered so many many obstacles in creating their families.  Poverty, pollution, a government that controls your life so rigidly that it tells you how many babies you can deliver.  A medical system that prevents poor families who want to keep their babies from being able to do so because of finances.  The courage and bravery of the mamas and babas who would actually leave their babies in a public market, knowing they would be found, hoping against hope that they would be adopted - would I actually have that kind of selfless love and steadfast courage?  Would I?  Or would I hold my baby tight against my chest and refuse to give him up until he drew his last breath?  I honestly don't know.  As selfish as it sounds - I don't know if I would have the courage to give them up that way.  Not ever really knowing what happened to them.  Oh, how I wish I could hug Jeremiah's first mommy.  How I wish I could somehow tell her that he is loved, happy, and ok.  That we will do for him medically what she could not.  Somehow I imagine myself being able to communicate with her.  On some deep, primal level that only two people who passionately love the same little soul can do.  I pray that she just knows.  That two weeks ago a peace flooded her tormented soul.

China was amazing in so many ways.  It was a place of almost mystic haze.  It is steeped in ancient superstitions.  Beijing was old meets new in many ways.  The ancient landmarks, the traditional pagodas and architecture, the Great Wall, the temples, the Buddhas - all that in stark contrast to the absolutely breathtaking skyscrapers, concrete, cell towers, and thirty million residents pressed together in a huge mass of humanity.

We toured the Great Wall on Saturday.  It was freezing, it was a brutal climb, especially dragging a five year old who was "soooo cold he was going to diiiie right here on THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA!!!"  But, the view from the top (well, not quite the top, I couldn't drag Patrick that far) - but the view -- there are no words.  Over 4,000 miles of wall stretches across the northern part of the country.  Building the wall took the lives of an estimated 1,000,000 people - it is known as the "longest cemetery in the world."   It was absolutely breathtaking.

After we thawed out, we toured a jade factory, learned the history and significance of jade to the culture and had lunch at the restaurant on site.  It was a wonderful day, bonding even more with our group - dreaming about our babies who we would meet on Monday morning in a new city, and just soaking in the culture so that we will have so much to share with our kids when they are old enough to ask questions.

Jeremiah, we loved "your people."  We loved their soft smiles, their shy waves and quiet "hellos."  We love their jet black hair and beautiful almond shaped eyes.  We loved learning all that we could about the things that make China one of the most studied ancient cultures in all of history.  There is such an intensity there - we fell in love with the people.

Sunday morning we left early for the airport.  Again, our amazing guides made the in-country flight as painless as possible.  They gathered our luggage, collected our passports, drove us there, walked us in and received our boarding passes and hugged us good-bye at security.  We flew 2 hours south to Zhengzhou, the capital of Henan province, where in the wee hours of the next morning, 15 children - orphans no more - would begin to make their way from all over the countryside to one central office building in the middle of a bustling city.  Fourteen Mamas and Daddies, three grandparents, and more "extra" children than I can remember would be waiting to smother them with hugs and kisses.  Lollipops in abundance - tears, smiles, emotions that literally drive you to your knees.

Coming up next.....Gotcha Day!!!!

Journey to Jeremiah - Part 1

How do I even begin to put into words the past two weeks?  The past year really.  What started out as a fuzzy picture of a little boy in a "stylish" jogging suit and a pretty thin medical file with some scary predictions - brought us to a place that I have always dreamed of going........

CHINA!!!!

And that little boy up there - well, here he is today!

This picture was taken less than one week after he was placed in our arms.  Those eyes, those outstretched arms.  The very heart of God wrapped up in the joyous smile of a child who now has a forever family.  A Mama and Baba of his very own - always and forever.  There is no greater joy on this earth.  And friends, there is NO medical file scary enough to not be worth seeing that smile directed at you.  Our God is bigger, He is greater - and He is in the business of moving mountains and making scary predictions doable - just because He is there.

So, let's back up.  The paper pregnancy started in early April when we received the file.  It was the only one we looked at.  Much the same as we had done with Patrick almost six years ago, we prayed simply that God would send us our child.  That we would not have to say no to a file.  We looked it over, prayed about it, sent it to a couple of doctors we know, and we said yes.  In a span of 24 hours.  We sent it to the doctors, not for "approval" or a yes or no, but for a "tell us what to do next" kind of thing.  We knew.  When the picture from the file came up on the computer screen for the first time, Patrick said, "There he is.  That's my baby brother."  Through tears, Stan replied, "Go get him."   

So, I went.  The paper process was excruciating.  I won't lie.  I have given birth four times, in every manner you can conceive of.  I have adopted domestically.  And there is not much that compares to the international process.  It is brutal.  The sheer amount of documents that must be notarized, certified, authenticated. The acronyms - LOI, PA, USCIS approval, TA..... What does all that mean, you ask?  It means that instead of hours over the toilet with morning sickness, it is hours in the car with your files of documents.  Going to the courthouse, going to the notary, going to the UPS store.  The guy at the UPS store we use literally hugged me one day and said "I hope you are almost done, you look really tired."  Bless him.  

It was hard.  But that smile.  I would start again today.  

So, finally - finally the TA arrived.  That means Travel Approval - and all the rest of it begins to fade.

"Book your flights," were the best words our agency uttered during the entire year!!!

So, we did.  Our Gotcha Day was exactly ten and a half months after that picture slowly rolled onto our computer screen and that little face became a part of our lives forever.  

Here we are!  February 10th, 2016 - leaving Seattle for the long flight to Beijing!!  Look out China - Patrick is coming!!!  

Stay tuned for Part 2 of our journey to Jeremiah!!

Slaying the Monster

The ESV version of the Bible uses the word "fear" 437 times.  Almost every one of the verses say something along the lines of "fear not" or "fear the Lord."  Now, I get the "fear the Lord" part - and it is my heart's desire to do so properly and to live that way.  The "fear not" part, God and I talk about every.single.hour.  

Anxiety is my closest companion some days - I strive to keep it firmly in the category of an "affliction" and not allow it to move into the sin category.  But, I fail so miserably and though CS Lewis says I shouldn't, I do feel a lot of guilt about it.  

"Some people feel guilty about their anxieties and regard them as a defect of faith. I don't agree at all. They are afflictions, not sins. Like all afflictions, they are, if we can so take them, our share in the Passion of Christ."  CS Lewis

If Mr. Lewis is correct in this statement, then I most definitely have an opportunity to share in the passion of Christ in a big way.  I am not sure I can take it though to be honest.  

So today I am reading and copying "fear" verses.  I love what I am reading.  "Perfect love casts out fear."  "His mercy is for those who fear Him, from generation to generation."  "Fear not, little flock, it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the Kingdom."  "Do not fear, only believe."  Yes - I snatched all of those right out of context and did not give you the references.  But, the Bible is living and active and today - I need these (and the other 400) and I am claiming them.

So, for those of you who read my blog and see my FB posts and think somehow that I am "fearless" then I am so sorry to burst your bubble.  I am terrified right now.  I am terrified of the 12 hour flight to even get to Ch*na much less all the rest that goes with it.  I am scared of taking my other kids with me but the fear of leaving them here and going that far away outweighed that one.  I am afraid of germs, the food, the in country flights, the van ride we have to take to apply for J's passport (the one with no car seat for Patrick and no seat belts for the rest of us).  I am afraid that Patrick is going to take a huge slurp of tap water and I am afraid that I will have to drink protein shakes three times a day for two weeks because I can't find any food I am willing to eat.  I am afraid I am not packing enough, but I am also afraid my husband is going to freak because of all that I have packed.   I am afraid because when we get back home we have some other really big things going on in our family and we are going to hit the ground running with not as much down time as I would have liked.  I am afraid of the dynamics of our family changing and I am afraid Jeremiah won't like us.  Our life is at an easy point right now - the kids are growing up and self sufficient, they get along pretty well, and we are finally feeling at home in Arizona.  I am scared of knocking all of that off balance, which we are surely about to do.

Here is what I am not afraid of though.  Here is the one and only part of me that has truly "slayed" the monster that stalks me almost constantly.  I am not afraid of being inside of God's will.  I know that I know that I know that one day along about the year 1999, I was on my hands and knees mopping my kitchen floor and God whispered in my ear that one day I would mother 7 children.  I was at the time mothering three and pretty much overwhelmed with that.  Now, we are well on our way (closer than we have announced yet - hint, hint) to seven.  I had no idea that fateful day where our children would come from - I knew at least one of them would come through adoption, but I had no particular country in mind.  I was very new at the time to following God's leading in my life and even newer to hearing His voice.  

So, when people say to me, "Wow - nothing ruffles you."   "You don't mind having a house full."  "I could never do that, it scares me too death."  These things I hear basically daily.

Here's what I have to say to that.  Everything.  Every freaking thing ruffles me.  I love a house full for a bit and I love being ALONE even more.  And you know what - being scared too death does NOT preclude you from doing "that" - whatever it is.  

I am not fearless.  I am terrified.  My stomach is churning, I can't sleep at night, and I have this sick sinking feeling that everything easy about my life is about to fly right out the window.  I am afraid of hard.  I don't like hard.  I want God to make it easy - easy transitions, easy medical situations, easy (and non-turbulent) plane rides -- the plane ride, you guys - it's freaking me out!!!!   I want more dates nights, yet I am about to have less - WAY less.  I want to sleep all night in bed with my husband (and only my husband).  I want to go on romantic getaways and travel to romantic places.  I want all the same things you want.   

Here is what I want more though.  I want more to be smack dab in the middle of God's will.  You know why?  I am stubborn and hard headed, but one thing I have learned in the past 20 years of following Him is this - there is NO place better for finding true joy.  There is only one way to find joy in this life and that is not in vain and selfish pursuits.  And if you notice, every single thing I listed above was vain and selfish in and of itself.  There is nothing wrong with date nights and romantic getaways, but God will provide those for us when we need them - He always does.  What is selfish is saying that I want "more" of the things that please me.  More easy, more vacation, more sleep.  "Seek ye first His Kingdom and all the rest will be added unto you."  God provides all that I need - He always has and I have no doubt that He will continue to.  But, true joy only comes from following Him into the hard places.  The places that sometimes I don't "feel" like I want to go.

So, as this trip approaches, here are the things I am totally and completely sure of.  First, Jeremiah is MY son.  I would travel around the world a dozen times to bring him home and I will love him as long as I have breath - even if he never loves me back.  Next, being a mom brings me more lasting joy than any other profession ever ever could - raising the next generation of warriors for Christ is all that I can imagine doing with my life.  Finally, whatever happens next for our family and wherever God leads us, no matter how hard it is - I will continue fighting the monster of fear and anxiety and I will set my heart, mind and strength on trusting and fearing nothing but the Lord.  There are millions of children without a family - that is the passion God has given me - and I will step out in faith, no matter how afraid I am, until they ALL have a family or He calls me home.  

This is the legacy that I want to leave my children.  

"For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Fear not, I am the one who helps you.” Isaiah 41:13