Anxious

Father...
My heart feels anxious, today. No real reason. Just another case of the I-want-it-my-way-right-this-minute blues. You know the kind. Most of  humanity lives there. I don't know what you're doing...I don't know the plans you have for me or my family. But, I'm making a choice to trust you. Right now; right this minute. I am choosing Jesus. 

That's it. Just wanted you to know.

Signed,
Your daughter (the one whose heart is always getting ahead of her)

Ty & Baby Jesus

I am a reflector. Not the bicycle sort, of course, but rather the thoughtful, retrospective kind. Watching our baby boy morph into a running, laughing, tackling buddy is more than enough inspiration.

Seeing him develop, right before my eyes, is the greatest privilege I've ever been given. When I see him cover his mouth to cough or put his clothes in the hamper, I know he's refinery in the making.  Our latest tradition involves the story of Christmas, which proudly boasts Jesus at its center. Ty has this puffy-people advent calendar (made by Fisher Price) and each night we pull a manger member from its pocket and place it appropriately in the stable. Baby Jesus is in pocket 25 and every night we share in his coming birth day.

I emphasize how special Baby Jesus is and that he deserves our love, lavishly. These quiet teachings have resulted in exuberant Ty-bursts throughout the day..."Bb-ee Jeesa! Bb-ee Jeesa!" he'll say and smatter the puffy pillow with kisses, before swiftly tucking him back in pocket 25. The warmness he causes to spill from my heart is too good for words.

I know it's simple, not-fully comprehending, love. But it's still love. And its existence gives me much hope for my little man's future. Not only do I aspire for him to chase after his heavenly father with all of the breath he contains, I want him to love people with the same intensity.

Ty's words are starting to flow more frequently and name variations of loved ones have ensued. He's so proud of himself when he says "Jo Jo Jo Jo" for Uncle Joe or "Do" for Uncle Drew. Phone talking has become more than a novelty and we make more frequent bedtime calls than ever before. All of these progressions make me excited for Rebekah.

She, of course, is a normal conversation piece in our home, but I know Ty has little understanding of what we're saying. I'm looking forward to the coming year's changes and the chance Ty will have to re-bond with his mom.

I know that I can't make things happen...that I can't force him to love and adore Rebekah, but my hope is that he'll live in the overflow of Ben and me. That he will love her because we love her. That he'll pray for and pursue her because we do.

I'm also hoping that this will be the year of the sibling (smile). We've had a few expectant moms inquire about our willingness to adopt, this year, but so far they have all made choices to parent (which we respect, understand, and encourage). Unless God has other plans, we'll begin the foster adoption licensing process next summer. We really want to honor birth order, so we may need to wait a long time...but I'm still holding out hope that Ty will have a playmate before next year's end.

If only he knew just how much we depend on "Baby" Jesus....

I will say, it's so much easier to trust God's hand-picking for our family this time around. Such a wonderfully, peaceful place to be.

A New Ty Video

It's been awhile since I've posted a video. I thought you might like to check in on the little man and see how fast he's growing! Ty's new favorite word is go and he uses it, appropriately, in every possible situation. If for some reason, we're not able to give him a convincing answer, his tender heart goes from concerned to distraught in seconds!

I am in love with his inquisitive spirit and his attention to detail (as you're about to see) never ceases to amaze me. I'm a busy little bee making many o' Christmas gifts, so I'll have to update you on life and love, later.

Enjoy the clip!

Ben and Barren

I'm not ready to hold a flapping, white flag, while wearing an I heart barrenness tee, but God has really worked the spirit of thankfulness into my life. Every year that I can remember, my mom makes us go around the turkey table and share the thanks in our hearts. This year, Ben and barrenness topped the list.

Naturally, Ty is an obvious joy-product of such a struggle, but my thanksgiving runs deeper. If it weren't for my barren belly, I would not be the kind of mom, wife, or God-child that I've been called to be. I see the fullness of that, now, and man! am I thankful. I'm even thankful for being thankful! The number of years wasted in deep-trenched, ungrateful pain were too many. But like most things in life, the aftermath clarity is perceptible.

My Ben is always on my long list of thanks, but this year he gets an extra measure. The man is a complete God-send. Long papers and late-night exams have consumed my life for months and Ben has never complained about the slack. He's cleaning, cooking, and grocery-ing, every week, and his double-duty efforts don't go unnoticed. When I think of all the peaks and valleys our young eight year marriage has endured, song can't help, but erupt from my heart. God is so good.

Every other week, I threaten to quit my MBA program and every other week Ben encourages me to stay strong. He, continually, strokes the embers of our family vision, while keeping the pantry well stocked with Oreos. 

I often wonder how any other man would put up with my intense passion and quirky habits. He's not at-all intimidated by my drive and doesn't flinch at the thought of adopting ten kids. How did I get so lucky? 

In a season of giving thanks and in the shadow of a horrifying event (please read and encourage sweet Vee), my heart spills over thankfulness for the barren belly that brought me Ty and for the love of the Father that brought me Ben.

Family of Three

Life is good. I mean really good. My heart has taken residence in the deepest level of content and the security in that is refreshing. I absolutely want a bigger family and am excited about the future adoption possibilities that exist,  but I am also enjoying every minute I have with my family of three.

Ty, of course, has always felt like a part of our family, but as he begins to really communicate and tease and engage, our family dynamic has really changed. Tonight we spent a solid hour wrestling on the floor, just the three of us. His peals of laughter are proof enough that God exists. There's just nothing like it.

Being a mom has taught me so much about who God is and how he loves. Ty has a wicked anger streak that takes him from 0 - 10 in a second in a half, yet he's also one of the most tenderhearted little boys I've ever seen. Parenting him has been such a privilege and I love the person God is shaping me to be. So many characteristics are sharpening into facets that never existed pre-motherhood.

People often tell me how strong my faith is....but, I have to answer with - "Yeah, now." There were a lot of dark, bitter, and raging days pre-Ty. I questioned anything and everything that God ever told me, showed me, or put in my heart. In the days leading up to Rebekah's first contact, I had run over faith like a dirty sweatshirt and was barely functioning as a shell. [If you're in that spot, today...please know that it's temporary].

God is faithful.

I really can't view him any other way, this side of adoption. Some days I get anxious about the fogginess of our future (releasing control is a major weakness), but then my ever-present sign of goodness shares his cookie with me and I see clearly, again.

I know that we're not "in the clear" for hardships. I know that heart bleeders will hit again, but right now, in these days of peace, I'm soaking in all that God has done for us. I'm filling up.  We won't always be a family of three; Ty won't always have our undivided attention and I'm very conscious of the fact. If I knew 5 years ago what I know, today, I wouldn't have spent a minute more crying over emptiness. I would have squeezed fullness from life and hung my hat on a solid peg of hope. That's the attitude I'm trying to live out, today.

Not only does God have my heart and plans in control, he gives me clearance to enjoy and live the right-now moments. We may have two or six or ten children. It might take us a month or eight or a hundred 'n five to get there. But, tonight, I was reassured with little back pats and bubble-gum brushed, sloppy kisses that God holds our days in his hands.

Unadoptable

The smile on this kid lights up the world.

Call it morbid, but sometimes I think about what my life would be had we not adopted Tyrus. It makes me well every time. Obviously, we had many childless years, but the presence of Ty has returned them to us as his laughter and growling take up so much room. Imagining him with another family, even Rebekah and her family, is too much to bear. He is a part of us, now, and the undoing of what's been done is too inconceivable to think about.

Ben and I carry those thoughts into our conversations about foster adoption. We've been talking about it a lot.

There are so many children waiting for families and there is a great urgency in my heart to do something. And by something I don't simply mean adopt as many children in our lifetime as possible (although that's coming!) These kids need advocates. They need voices shouting their names from rooftops and families enveloping their hearts in love. I've been hearing and reading stories that would make your lunch turn. A daughter missing feet because her "mother" left her on a snowy porch, in only her underwear, for hours at a time. A son that was thrown out the window in a fit of rage. A Ukrainian orphan that was deemed unadoptable by her country.

I heard a message, this week, on the love of our Father that produced such violence in my spirit, I had a difficult time functioning through the rest of my day. I walked away shouting, Lord, there is no man, woman, or child on this earth that is unloved, unwanted, or unadoptable. No exception. Yet, the world and church alike, prove me otherwise, every single day...

There are so many things I could say, here, but I want to keep this specific to what the Lord's showing me toward adoption. I've been chewing on my prayer for the last two days and I realized, tonight, that unadoptable labels exist...because families like ours use them. Ouch.

Sure, we get a gold star for even considering foster adoption in the first place. A red one for looking at sibling groups and even a green one for embracing diversity, but what about adopting a child over the age of 12? Unadoptable. A baby addicted to methamphetamine? Unadoptable. A teenager that has severe emotional or health issues? Unadoptable.

The reality is that these kids are labeled unadoptable because there are few families willing to adopt them...including mine.

That was a pretty hard pill to swallow, tonight. Yes, more families should be concerned about the foster crisis in our country. Yes, more adoptive families should be willing to look outside of domestic adoption. But, I can't change the hearts of other families...I can only work on mine.

Tonight, I'm saying, Lord, change me. Help me look at all children as your children. Affix new labels on their heads.

I stand by my initial prayer. Through the eyes of Christ - unloved, unwanted, and unadoptable children do not exist. If only the rest of us could see the world that way...

Happy Birthday Rebekah!

Since Ty can't sing Happy Birthday, yet, we had to show off the tricks he can do!

 

 

We love you so much, Rebekah, and hope you feel all kinds of wonderful, today!