Taking Stock

Five years ago today, I walked down the aisle at my wedding. It was a long time coming, and a union accomplished only by God's design (A Wedding Story ). I know my husband, Paul, and I had discussed "Where do you think we'll be in five years?" I'm not sure we would have imagined that there would be a toddler asleep upstairs for a nap and a newborn snoozing on my chest as I type.

I always envisioned that I would be married sometime in my twenties, enjoy a few years just with my husband, and then start having children, maybe four. Yet, years (and years and years) went by as I watched almost all my friends do just those things. Wedding after wedding, and baby shower after baby shower. It was hard to see so many people get the life that I had wanted. I prayed, and cried, and demanded, and cried, and prayed. . .

A deep longing of my heart was to just be "normal". To get married when my friends did, to have kids when my closest friends did. Nope. I remember talking to the Lord about this--"Is it so much to ask? To be normal? To be like everyone else?"

Now, beginning my fifth year as a wife and in the middle of my second year as a mom, well. . . Still not normal. Those close friends of mine? Their kids are going to college and getting married and having babies now. Most of the moms with kids our children's ages could also BE our kids. It makes forming new friendships interesting. Paul often gets mistaken for Grandpa, and while I haven't (yet) been called Grandma, I did have someone ask me last weekend if I were Mom or Grandma.

I don't know why the Lord waited so long to bless me with marriage. In the past I have said that I wished I knew Paul earlier, but now I have rethought that, since earlier means different children. I do know that being out of sync with most other people keeps me looking to the Lord for acceptance and peace and grace. I definitely know that being an older parent also requires extra strength and energy and faith to believe that we are the best choice for these children, at this time.

Life in the mainstream or out of it . . all of it requires faith and trust that the Lord is enough, no matter our (perceived) level of "normal".

My life is not how I thought it would be (I'm learning that very few people's are), but it is so, so good.

Psalm 16: 5-6 (ESV):


5 Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;
    you make my lot secure.
6 The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    surely I have a delightful inheritance.
7 I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;
    even at night my heart instructs me.
8 I keep my eyes always on the Lord.
    With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

Unless God. . .

Two weeks ago my husband and I had one of the hardest Thanksgivings ever. We had lost the son we were supposed to be adopting and were heartbroken ("Supposed to Be"). A few days later we went to church, wanting the support of our church family, but dreading the emotions. Over and over we were asked, "Is there any chance that you could see the baby again?" "Couldn't you guys be his foster care family, since you were going to adopt him anyway?" "Are you SURE it's all over?" Over and over we said, "No, not unless God intervenes." "No, they don't do things that way. Only if God does a miracle." "Yes, yes, it's all over. Everyone's told us that. There's no chance unless God does something miraculous."

Monday morning we were both supposed to go back to work. Sunday evening I decided not to so that I could accompany Paul to a doctor appointment. As I sat in the waiting room, we got a text from our adoption agency social worker to "Call me as soon as you can." We called, and she told us that the family services agency of the county in which the baby was born wanted to see if we would foster the baby while all of the details and logistics of figuring out where he would end up were sorted out. At that point we assumed it would just be for a few weeks. Of course we wanted to see the baby again, and give him a good start, but we also knew the even bigger heartbreak that could occur in a few weeks. We agreed to talk to the county to see exactly what they wanted.

The agency offered us to be kinship foster care providers for the baby. When we asked them how long they anticipated us having the baby, they said "Six months to a year, up to two years." Huh? It seems that the sorting out of all of this is going to take a while, and that, while the goal of foster care is always reunification with the birth family, there is the possibility that the child will become available for adoption.

It seemed abundantly clear to us that God had indeed intervened. We believe that He, miraculously and against all protocol, wanted us to have this baby back, at least for a while. So, while we intellectually have counted the cost of loving with no guarantee, we know that emotionally we risk heartache and tears--as do all parents. We don't know what God's plan is with this. It could be to give our little man the best start that we can, in a stable and loving environment. It could be to show the other people involved the love of Jesus. It could be to eventually adopt this little one who burrows deeper into our hearts every day. Regardless, when God works in such a big way, we really have no choice but to submit and trust Him that He will be enough for us, no matter what happens.

Some Days Are Like That. . .

Today was a hard day. It’s been a year since our domestic adoption home study was approved by our agency and Paul and I officially became a “waiting family.” During that year we had an expectant mom choose us to parent her child. However, due to several circumstances, she ultimately changed her mind and decided to parent. We’d had a name, a crib, an outfit, and a vision of ourselves as a family of three. Since then, it’s been eight months of nothing. The reality is that there aren’t a lot of infants out there in the private adoption world. The reality is that we are too old for almost all international adoption, and the countries we’re not too old for we don’t qualify in other areas. We’re planning on taking the classes to become foster parents to see if that route might work better. We’re trying to trust the Lord and pay attention to where He might be leading.

Those are the facts. But today I’m also dealing with the feelings. The pain of wanting to be a mom for as long as I can remember, and imagining myself with a husband and four kids, staying home as Mom while Dad went out to work. But the husband didn’t come until the biological window was already essentially closed. So, instead of what it seems most people do—some canoodling with the hubby and voila, a baby—we instead got to do fingerprinting and fire inspections and social work interviews and friend referrals. CPR classes and book studies and drug tests.  Application fees and class fees and agency fees. And we did it, praying and hoping for the child who would make it all worth it.

After this year of waiting, we went for a meeting today to talk with our social worker about how we are doing and what else we could do. I like our agency. They’ve been great. But no one seems to know what to do when I respond with my honest feelings rather than the correct Christian answer.

“You do a blog? Write a blog about your adoption wait,” they say.  Yeah, right. Because people want to hear how powerless I am and how impatient I feel and how frustrating it is to be able to do nothing to make this happen. People prefer happy endings. Those chosen to share their stories always have the husband, or the baby, or the cure, or the victory. “Read this book about this woman and her wait.” “Does she have the baby now?” “Yes.” “That’s what I just said:  NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT THE MESS IN THE MIDDLE UNLESS THERE’S A HAPPY ENDING COMING.”

We are in the middle of the mess in the middle of the story. We may not get the happy ending that we desire. It’s harder than I imagined to put my heart and hope out there for everyone to see. It can be difficult to stay positive or even realistic.  Today was a mix of so many emotions. I’m tired of waiting. I'm angry this isn't easier. There’s not much I can do, but I want to do what I can. Yet when I get suggestions: Write a blog, join Instagram, try Pinterest, call other agencies, make a copy of your book and put it at OB-GYN offices, ask friends to share your profile. . . then I shut down because what if I can’t do all of that? If I can’t or we don’t do it right, do we miss our chance at a child? And, deeper, why does this have to be so hard for us when it is so easy for so many other people?

As many of you who follow this blog know, I have had my struggles with feeling distant from the Lord over the last few years. It’s improved, but I would still like my relationship with Him to be closer. In the middle of this journey it can be hard to see God at work. As I spent the afternoon avoiding the acts of praying and processing the morning, I had an errand to run. I couldn’t find the audiobook I wanted, so I was listening to a message from my old church in St. Louis. When that message finished, another one automatically loaded from Tim Keller, well-known pastor and Christian author, called "An Immigrant's Courage", about Ruth and Naomi and Boaz. It’s a great message and I could talk about several ideas in it, but what struck my heart was when Keller spoke about how the Lord did not abandon Naomi. He provided Ruth for her, and, through Ruth, a future and a hope and an heir.

Naomi thought that she had lost everything. Her husband and sons were dead and she was too old to work or to marry. She went back home telling everyone to call her “Mara” because it meant “bitter”. However, God had a plan for her. The book of Ruth is only four chapters long and will tell you the whole wonderful story.  God ultimately provided a husband for Ruth, and, through Jewish custom, an heir to Naomi’s son. The Lord did not abandon Naomi, and He has not and will not abandon me. That doesn’t mean that I will get a child. It does mean that the Lord is with me and communicating during the wait. Today God used the message I heard and the truth of the book of Ruth to remind me that, though things may not work out according to my plan, He will not leave me alone.

So, I will call more agencies, take the foster care classes, continue to figure out Instagram, keep praying that God will bring us a child, and wait for the end of the story.

P.S.
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Sticking it Out

Okay, here it is: I am still reading in the Bible everyday. In the Old Testament I'm in the chapters in Joshua where the land is divided. Not a lot of practical application (that I can see). Also reading in the Psalms and the book of Luke. Surely I should be able to come up with something pertinent from them? Nope.

This moment is when it is tempting both to stop reading or to make something up that sounds really spiritual to convince myself that I am hearing from God. The truth is that there are many days when I spend time with the Lord and I don't have any giant revelation. I read even about the life of Jesus and just say, "Yes, yes, I remember this, I agree with this, but. . . ".

Today I prayed and asked the Lord to show me if there is anything that I am doing that is blocking me from hearing Him, and I am trusting that He will show me if there is. There may be some specific sin (there's always something)of which I need to repent. However, there may not be. It may be that this is a time that I need to walk in faith and stick with the discipline of a daily quiet time, trusting that the Lord will show up again. My closeness and worth to God are not measured in how much I "feel" Him or what insight I receive each day. Because of the cross, I am God's child as much on the days that I have goosebumps from feeling His presence as on the days when I can't focus to pray for more than ten seconds without thinking about what I need to do that day. I'm so thankful that my security is in HIM and His truth, not in my feelings or understanding.

He's Not Us

I am thankful that the Lord is not like us. I am simultaneously reading in Deuteronomy about how the Israelites should be faithful to God but won't be, and in Psalm 78 about God's faithfulness to the Israelites in the face of their disobedience. The Lord did punish them for their "whoring" (Scripture's word, not mine) after other gods, but He did not annihilate them, which they deserved. The verses that spoke to me today were Psalm 78:37-39:

37Their heart was not steadfast toward him;
they were not faithful to his covenant.
38Yet he, being compassionate,
atoned for their iniquity
and did not destroy them;
he restrained his anger often
and did not stir up all his wrath.
39He remembered that they were but flesh,
a wind that passes and comes not again.

The line "He. . . atoned for their iniquity" touched me. It has always been the Lord atoning for our sin, making a way to be in relationship with Him, even before Jesus. If I could just understand how much God's heart is longing to be intimate with me. . .