"Are you their mom?"

Last week, we were at my cousin's baseball game and about half way through the boys were getting wiggly bottoms. We told them they could go run around the field behind us and gave them some parameters. A few minutes later, we found that they had made friends with some older boys and had joined their soccer game. When the game was over and people started packing up, there was a black family sitting in the home field bleachers that were getting ready to leave. I heard one of the older boys tell Laron, "Don't you need to go home with your family?"

Laron looked at him, strangely, and, pointing to me, said, "No, my mom is right there."

The poor boy just coudn't wrap his mind around the fact that Laron was with our family. He asked him several more time until Laron finally said, "My MOM IS RIGHT THERE." I smiled and waved, but didn't intervene.

Today, the boys were riding bikes in the driveway while I was making dinner. I heard one of the older neighbor boys that they hadn't met, yet, come ask if he could play (my boys have an uncanny ability to draw a crowd and make friends, quickly).

He started by asking them their names and ages. Ty explained, with painstaking detail, that he used to be two, that he, now, is three, and, in June, will be turning four. There was a long pause and the boy said, "Are you guys brothers?"

Laron said, "Yup. You wanna ride bikes with us?"

The boy wasn't ready to move on, "But, you guys are the same age?"

Ty went through his explanation, again, and ended with, "We are both turning four."

The boy wasn't convinced, so he asked, again, "And you're brothers...how?"

I decided to poke my head out the door to see who was asking all the questions. As soon as I came around the corner, the boys shouted, "Hi, Mom!"

The boy looked at me and said, "Are you their mom?"

I smiled and said, "I sure am! Have fun boys," and walked away with a smirk on my face.


This is only the beginning to a lifetime of questions. I love that my boys are confident in their brotherhood and secure in the role they have in our family. When it comes to preschool friends and park acquaintances, I decided that it's their story to tell, not mine. How much they want to reveal is up to them.

It's funny to watch their interactions because nothing about their life feels unnatural. They assume everyone gets it! Sometimes I do want to interfere and say, "Just ask them if they're adopted...they'll tell you!" But...right now, it's more fun to watch the boys handle it on their own.

From one Rebekah to Another

Sweet Rebekah left this note on my Facebook wall, today:

To a lady who has had a great impact on my life. A lady who carries herself with great humility, spreads joy wherever she goes and loves with all her heart. Rebekah you are an amazing woman but most importantly you are an amazing mother. I remember seeing your face when you held our sweet Tyrus for the first time. It was one of the highlights of my life.

I am truly blessed that God put you in my life. Happy early Mother's Day!!


Here is my love to her, in return:

To a woman who has had a great impact on MY life. You are full of laughter and courage and heart. Your zest for life and capacity to love is great. Your friendship is one of the greatest blessings in my life and sharing motherhood with you is beyond a dream. Tyrus is a wonderful mix of all our best qualities - God has great plans for that boy. What a thrill that those plans include us!

My heart is in constant thankfulness for your role in my life. Happy Mother's Day, my dear friend.

Baby Mia

I love my husband. This was his response to my text message, this afternoon:

It's no where near a done deal, but my heart is pumping! Mia's court hearing was rescheduled twice in the last couple of months, but it finally went before a judge, this week. I don't know the ins and outs of her case (most of what I know is from facebook), but parental rights were terminated and a referral for adoption requested. Once an adoption worker is assigned our petition for adoption will be submitted by our case worker. Thankfully, Mia is being assigned to the same agency that our adoption worker represents, so we should avoid the confusion that occurred in LJ's case (we petitioned for him, but then found him on the MARE website a couple months later because our paperwork was lost).

I am trying very hard to be neutral and pray God's best for Mia...but, boy, do I want that to include our family! I have been praying for this sweet girl for 18 months...I was confident that her case would come to this point, now, I just want to bring her home.

All we can do is wait.

Intentional Mothering

I was asked to submit a guest post over at Deep Breaths. Katie put together a wonderful series on intentional mothering. I shared about the importance of sewing the Word of God into the hearts of our boys. Check it out!

Too Hurt to Stay

"Dear Mum, it read, I am sorry for my life. I never meant to hurt you and I love you with a big heart. I want you to kiss me when my dad isn't looking so he doesn't think I'm a girl's blouse. I promise I'll let you kiss me. Casey and Mike are fixing me into a proper good kid like our Lewis. When can I come home, Mum? Love for ever and ever, Spencer xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx."

TLC Book Tours asked me to do a book review for Casey Watson's, Too Hurt to Stay. A true story of a troubled foster kid's journey to family. Before I dig into it, here's the book trailer:



Here's the thing. The story is gripping.

I read it in two days flat. Casey's writing is raw and genuine; there's not a lot of fluff. At first I was turned off by it and couldn't place the disconnect, until I realized our international differences. Casey is from the UK and her rhythm of words, not to mention some of the terms used, were puzzling at times.

There is some language in the book, but I didn't find it offensive, as it fit within the story.

It's hard to give a strong recommendation for the book because the content is so heavy. The ending isn't magical...it's real life. Casey and her husband are heroic in my opinion. They foster high risk kids for short periods of time, preparing them to return home or ready them to be fostered within the system. I am in awe of what they do and how they do it...and challenged to do more.

Spencer is the eight year old boy of whom the story is written. His childhood was so tragic, I could barely handle the read...but, then, the need for redemption wouldn't allow me to put it down!

If you have already experienced the foster care system or have a rooted passion for bringing change, this would be a good read for you. I would not recommend this book for those that are wavering between domestic and foster care adoption. It is a rough read and could, potentially, scare you into saying no...when we need you to say, yes!

Like I said, I found Casey's book extremely raw and inspiring. I have a greater respect for our loving, dedicated foster families and a deeper groaning to help serve these desperate kids who deserve more than they've been given.

Let me know if you end up reading it. I would love to hear your thoughts!

"I'll Never Give up on Them"

This weekend we went to the grand opening of the Michigan Heart Gallery. As we listened to the welcome, the speaker asked for any kids in the audience, waiting for a family, to raise their hand. LJ's shot up in the air. I tickled his tummy and said, "LJ! Put your hand down - you have a family!"

He pointed and said, "But, mom, I want to go up there - "

The kids were lining up to tell their stories.

God is going to use our little man in big ways. LJ loves people.

I cried through the entire event.

Tristan got up and shared his story. 16 years old. 8 homes in 3 years. He graduates next year and holds out hope for a family. He talked about how he wasn't on stage to advocate for himself...but for all of his friends in the system. I nearly sobbed when he finished with, "I want to make a change in my legacy. I'm going to be a good dad. I want my kids to know...I will never give up on them."

Rachel read a poem she wrote. 17 years old. Beautiful girl. I stood to my feet when she fought her experience with these powerful words, "You can't bring me down - You can't control my destiny."

One by one, each child shared his dream. I want to be an astronaut. I want to go to Disney World. I want to go to college. I want to be hugged every night before I go to bed.

Seriously. I could barely move from my seat, I was so racked with emotion. I have to do more. We walked through the gallery as a family and took our picture next to our picture - LJ is a story of success...he found his family. Ben was mesmerized with a picture of three boys. I couldn't stop staring at a teenage girl with hair like mine.

I knew they were real. I knew their stories existed...but seeing their sweet faces and listening to their dreams, in person, lit a fire in my heart. I have to do something.

We, of course, will adopt as many kids as we can (first we have to move out of our teeny condo), but I need to do more. Start a support group? Volunteer for MARE? Advocate with Dave Thomas? I don't know what the answer is, yet, but I trust God will bring it.

At the conclusion of the presentation, the president of the Judson Center, Cameron Hosner, said, "You each have someone who is irrationally crazy about you. Help us help these kids."






 "These children are not someone else's responsibility. They are our responsibility." - DAVE THOMAS

Boo Boo Frog & Redemption

We have not completely loved the orphan spirit out of LJ, yet, but he has come such a long way in a year. Ben and I had some one-on-one time with our buddy, yesterday, that brought me to a point of teary awe. This picture was taken last March, during one of our first family outings (breakfast at IHOP).
 

It is such a sobering picture for me, because it depicts the inner sadness that LJ brought with him when he moved to a new home for the last time.

Ben, LJ, and I snuggled on the couch together. Tickling and giggling. I thought over the last few weeks and the amount of personality that has surfaced. For as much inward battle that he faces, LJ is an extrovert. He is so much like his daddy. He loves people and would give the shirt off his back if someone asked for it. We were at dinner the other night and as we wove through the crowd toward the bathroom, he stopped several times along the way - "Hi, my name is L_____ Jeremiah Pinchback, what is your name?", "Are you a real waiter?" and, my personal favorite, "Hi! I really like your baby."

LJ has always been quite outgoing when he's on the playground, but in the last few weeks we've noticed that his passion for people extends past his height.

Lately, every store cashier and waitress gets introduced to Ty by his brother. LJ always uses his full name and introduces Ty as "Tyrus." He gets big fan fair from his subjects and Ben always follows up with, "He's planning to run for mayor."

Tonight, my aunt and uncle stopped by to say hello and the boys were eating some crackers at the table. My uncle, jokingly, said, "Will you share one with me?" without a flinch of consideration, LJ got up from the table and took his second to last cracker and gave it to my unlce. He went back to his bowl for the last one and gave it to my aunt (she hadn't asked for one).

That's my boy's heart.

He's such a lover...such a giver.

While the three of us sat on the couch, I thought through his character traits and how much they've developed. LJ is so much like Ben, it's striking. They both speak the same love languages (touch and words of affirmation), they share the same humor, and their faithful, friendly demeanor invites others to come a little closer.

Apart from the same squishy nose, mine and LJ's sameness comes in worship. LJ is deeply affected  by music and has an acute sensitivity to the Spirit of God. Whether the music is on or not, he sings his heart out in the backseat of the car. It's one of my favorite things about him.

Our moment got a little crazy as the boys (Ben and LJ) started rough-housing on the couch and LJ got a nail to the forehead. The scratch was non-existent, but LJ asked if he could run to the freezer for our boo-boo frog. The request was silly and unneeded, but it brought tears to my eyes because it's exactly what Ty would have done. Ty is crazy particular about everything. Any sort of bump or brush sends him to the freezer for the frog. I couldn't recall a time where LJ ever needed or asked for it.

He, delicately, placed the frog on his forehead and laid, quietly, on the rug while his "injury" healed.

I thanked God for beautiful redemption. I've been taught it my whole life and hear stories of the role it plays in others' lives, but, in that moment, I experienced the knowing for myself.

God redeemed the life of my beautiful boy.

His eyes are bright, his smile genuine, and his hope for the future secure.

What a difference one year makes.

How, on earth, could we not want to do this again?