That was the plan.

(random winter photography)

Six months ago, 

I was about to adopt a toddler. I was about to enter a whole new journey of parenting an adopted special needs child. I was about to have five children. I was also about to start our sixth year of homeschooling, with three kids at home while the oldest spread her homeschooled wings and flew off to highschool. I was about to begin another year in leadership at Community Bible Study with a group of women who had grown near and dear to my heart over the past year. 

That was the road before me.  

That was the plan.  

Three very good things.  

Then it all came crashing down.  In a matter of weeks, everything changed.  Heart wrenching decisions completely altered the course.  In one tumultuous swoosh of God’s design, the good and worthy and excellent plans for the future came to a screeching halt.

We would not be adopting Levi.  We would not be homeschooling.  I would not be in leadership at CBS.

BAM.

Plans were shattered.

I was shattered.

And it was exactly what I needed.

Yes, I needed a good shattering of a lot of junk.  God, of course, knew it.

I also needed a shattering of a lot of good stuff.  

Even the "good" stuff in our lives can sometimes be the "wrong" stuff.

At the time, all these decisions and changes seemed so sudden and urgent.  But the reality is, we prayed for many years about adoption.  We prayed for many years about homeschooling our children.  For many years we sought God's will and prayed for God's direction in all these things.
  

Why then are we so surprised when God does exactly that?

Yes, it hurt a little (a lot). It took time to see through the mess of emotions.  God's message was clear.
Wait. Rest. Be still.  He is the one taking the shattered pieces and making something beautiful.
~ ~ ~
When it becomes clear that God has rocked your world, your head spins a little.  
When it becomes clear that He is lovingly and tenderly putting you all back together 
into the vessel he always had in mind,
well, 
your heart spins a little.

Bright Shiny and New

My sister recently asked me how I was doing.  What she meant was "Are you okay?" I was not immediately sure what she was referring to because frankly, this year has been so full of ups and downs.  Change lurked around every corner.  She could have been talking about any number of things.

But she was talking about Levi.
We all thought Levi would be home with us for Christmas.
It's hard to say his name. It's so much easier just to say "the adoption."  When I say his name, I see his face, and when I see his face, well, you can imagine.

So to answer her question.
I'm okay.
I'm surprisingly okay.
I hope I'm not in denial here, but I'm extraordinarily okay.
Thanks for asking.

The past year will certainly go down in the record books. I wouldn't have--couldn't have--planned it this way myself. Nobody would. And really, isn't that good news?  That when we step out in faith, God will work out his best plan for us...no matter what?  No matter how much we plan and strive, how hard we try to arrange and control, no matter the decisions we make, paths we take, messes we create, no matter how long we wait...God is in control and he'll get us where we need to be. That truth has become so real to me. I wear it like a favorite pair of jeans.

I'll take his plan over mine any day.   

And you know what?  I haven't been this full of hope in a long time. Crazy isn't it?  After all the heartache, all the stress, all the unexpected change?  I couldn't begin to explain in one single post, but there's a bright shiny new hope written upon my heart.  I'll sum it up simply with five familiar words: 

Jesus loves me this I know.

Not just because the Bible tells me so.  I know it because I've seen it, felt it, prayed it, cried it, and lived it through the mountain top highs and dark valley lows of this year. I'm learning that my messy, sinful, bruised, and battered heart really matters to him.  I haven't always believed that, so we are making big progress here.

From the outside, our life and family may look pretty much the same as it did 12 months ago. But let me tell ya', we've changed and grown in ways that cannot be measured by outside appearances.  Maybe that was the plan all along.

Yes. Jesus love me. And you. And Levi.

This I know.

I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Psalm27:13

Unfinished Story

"So, what's new ?"

I really hate that question as a conversation starter.

I mean really, you have no choice but to say,

"not much."

Well, the truth is, there is not much new.

Yet things are very different.

Not that long ago, we expected, hoped for, and eagerly awaited 

a flight across an ocean to meet the little boy we were certain was ours.
We had hoped he'd be home by Christmas.

I have clothes collected from yardsales over the summer
not even knowing exactly what size he would need--

cute little fall overalls, winter sweaters, and little boy jeans.
I am not sure what to do with that now.

Today it dawned on me that I had to take his pictures off this blog.

He is not ours. He belongs to someone else.
This is not the way I thought the story would end.
 But then again, I am not the author.

I'm not going to pretend that I understand what happened.
I certainly don't pretend to know what happens next.

But I'll tell you what I believe.

There is more to the story that we don't know.

And as much as I want to know...

as much as I want to go...

the answer I get is...
No. Not yet.

WAIT.

REST.

BE STILL AND KNOW.

After years of going, going, going on this adoption journey it's hard to be still.
It's hard to wait. It's hard to accept. It's way beyond my understanding.
 I may never get the answers to my questions.

There is a special quote of Steven Curtice Chapman that God used to get this whole story started:

“He (God) delights in doing things that we say are impossible.  Ours is to have the faith to take that first step.  If you start that journey and it isn’t completed the way you thought it would, God is still in that journey and will provide for you.  I would encourage people to step forward and see what God wants to do in their lives." 


We took that first step.  We took the zillion steps in between. 
But I never ever considered that our adoption journey would end without an adoption.

"If you start that journey and it isn't completed the way you thought it would, 
God is still in that journey and will provide for you."
I have to keep reminding myself. I really, really do.


"God is still in this."
"God is still in this."
"God is still in this."


REST in His timing. REST in His goodness. REST in His purpose.


Wait expectantly for the Author. 
The story isn't finished.

Difficult Subject. Difficult Day.

Sigh.


We are not adopting Levi.

I'd like to tell you all about it in a neat little package that explains everything and makes perfect sense. But I can't. I'd like write with hope... and faith... and trust... and claim the promise to "prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."  But I can't. I believe the words in my head, but they haven't quite reached my heart yet.

Don't get me wrong.  We have peace in the decision. But we still mourn.

So please forgive me if I seem a little silent on the subject for a while.

Sigh. 

Since we are already on a difficult subject, can I tell you something else? 

Maybe someday I'll write about it. But for now, I'm just going to keep it simple. Very simple. 

Today is the day my parents died. 

I was 18 the summer of the accident.

Next Saturday is my 40th birthday.

It's also the day of the funeral--the day my parents were buried.

You can probably imagine how much I love my birthday.

Sigh.

You still need your mom and dad when you're 18...maybe more than ever.

You still miss them when you are 40...maybe more than ever. 

Losing It

It should have been one simple routine visit to the Dr.'s office.

But first I forgot the paperwork. Then I forgot my wallet.

Yes, I went back and forth between my house and the Dr.'s office three times.

The next day I needed to pick up a prescription at the pharmacy,

but I drove my van to the library.

On a morning run, a song made me cry. I cried hard.

FYI--it is difficult to breathe when you run and cry at the same time.

(Not to mention a little weird.)

My nerves are shot.

I can't tell you how many times this week I've reached for a cup in the cupboard

and the whole stack came crashing to the floor.

After the last cup crash, somebody asked,

"Mom, why are you counting to ten?"

In an effort to feel some sense of control in my life,

I have purged and re-organized my bedroom closet,

spontaneously  hacked down two overgrown bushes,

 and purchased a three month subscription for an online menu planner.

(too many 4:30 grocery runs this week)

I know what you're thinking.

This is not normal.

If you have seen me or had a conversation with me this week,

please take into consideration that I am not in my right state of mind

and forgive me if I didn't carry on a coherent conversation.

It's also entirely possible that I forgot something important--

like deodorant or brushing my teeth.

I'm sorry this post is so random.

My thought process is under extreme duress.

My sister has seen our vacation pictures. She thinks Todd and I look a little "off."

Um. yeah. You could say that.

Funny thing is we thought we were hiding it so well...

until we ended up in an Ohio emergency room because Todd

was having chest pains on our way home to Michigan.

(everything checked out okay after three hours in the ER)

I'd like to think that even under stress and heartache, I've got it all together.

Obviously not.

I'd like to think I can understand what's going on.

I cannot.

This fork in the road has taken me by complete surprise and

I'm running around like a chicken with it's head cut off.

And the sad thing is,

I know better.

God gave me a timely reminder this morning from Psalm 46:

"Be still, and know that I am God..."

Maybe its time to live like I believe it.

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, O Lord, for I have put my trust in you. 

 Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul."  Psalm 143:8

Chapter 10 : I Lift up my Eyes to the Hills...Psalm 121

 I hardly know where to begin.

How do you explain what you can't understand?

We have been given new information.  

The kind of information that puts an unexpected fork in the road.

And we don't know which way to go.

Last week we were on vacation visiting my sister's family in South Carolina.

While there, our case worker left messages to call her back.

We called back, never expecting what we would hear--a new diagnosis.

"DiGeorge Syndrome"

Levi has been diagnosed with this rare genetic disorder.

It is a complex syndrome affecting both his body and his mind.

There is no cure.

We have been asked by our agency to pray

 and reconsider whether adopting him is the right thing for our family.

How do you make a decision like this?

  

I hate this heart wrenching place we are in,

but God is here with us,

and God is good.

Though we don't understand it,

we believe there is a purpose to His plan.

We almost didn't go on this vacation. 

 It didn't seem like the right thing to do.

It didn't seem like the right time.

But now I see that God wanted us there.

 Because

I don't have a mother's shoulder to cry on.

I have sisters.

And my South Carolina sister is a pediatrician.

She knows the medical future Levi and our family could potentially face.

My South Carolina sister and her husband also have their own adoption journey.

They know this kind of heartbreak.

Being there with them at this time was providence.

.

God provided a week away from work and other responsibilities to process this news.

God provided the comfort of His Word.

God provided hours of conversation and wise council

that we could not have had over the phone at home .

Photo credit goes to Josie!

~ ~ ~

We are back home now with a difficult new reality to face
and an unexpected decision to make.

 We need your prayers.

Levi needs your prayers.

 May God's good and perfect will be done.

paper prayers and goosebumps

Please pray for our papers.

I know that sounds strange, 

but we have very important adoption papers about to travel

around the country and around the world.  

It is so important that they get where they need to be.

So many little things could go wrong and little things cause big delays.

I'm trying my best to go with the flow.

Roll with the punches.

Ride the waves.

I trust.

I really do.

God's timing always works.

Perfect example:

Yesterday I took the "littles" to the pool

while the big kids were at a Tiger's game.

Thanks to our recent road trip,

the "littles" have resurrected an old favorite pastime,

 back-seat bickering.

"Raise your hand if you think bickering is 

mind-numbing ear pollution!!!"

Sorry, the "raise your hand" game is also very popular around here. 

Anyways, 

on the way to the pool,
I kindly suggested that if the bickering did not stop, 

we would turn around and go back home.

The bickering did not stop.

The van turned around and we went home.

One must stick to their guns in parenting.

The Bickersons were given 10 minutes of solitude 

and the promise of a second try.

I was given 10 minutes of random free time to check out one of my
favorite blogs.

The point of my somewhat random story???

During those 10 minutes of bickering-induced solitude, the phone rang.  

It was Todd -- with a question.

Could I please run to his work and sign an adoption paper 

that we somehow missed?

(He is my paperwork hero!)

"Raise your hand if you think that God is clever and awesome!!!!"

Because I was home, and not at the pool, the paper was signed as needed.

Surely there is much more of this clever coordination going on than we will ever know or see.

Small little story, 

but it gives me goosebumps whenever God sheds a little light 

on His goodness and love.

So yes, pray for our papers.

And then pray for our boy.

And then pray for his foster family.

And then pray for his birth mom and dad.

And then pray for the people and places that make this process work.

And then praise God for giving this momma goosebumps.

Many of you have asked for an adoption update.

It has had many delays along the way, but the homestudy is officially approved. We have just turned in another stack of important documents and most of these will be sent to South Korea. From this point in time, we can expect to wait four to eight months for our travel call. Pray for the four month mark! In the meantime, we will be filling out grant applications and working to raise the remaining funds. Pray for the remaining funds!  Thank you!

Do Not Let Your Heart Be Troubled

 For the last few days, 

this has been my go-to phrase of encouragement and strength.

Yes, I talk to myself.

"Do not let your heart be troubled."

"Do not let your heart be troubled."

"Do not let your heart be troubled."

 My heart's been troubled...

~ ~ ~

We met with our church council seven weeks ago.

We joyfully shared our call to adopt,

and asked them to prayerfully consider how church could help.

We were given the okay to ask individual church families for support and to use the church mailboxes to do so. We were also told we could communicate and update through the church newsletter. For this we are grateful.

We have used the mailboxes and the newsletter. 

   This week,

we learned that our church council decided 

not to financially support the adoption of our son.

Apparently, this had been decided weeks ago,

but not communicated to us until now.

Ouch.

I'm not going to pretend that this doesn't hurt--it hurts a lot.

I'd rather not share news that is

discouraging and disappointing.

But this is part of the journey that I've committed to share.

It's a faith journey that is teaching us far more than we ever imagined. 

And for some reason, 

this disappointment is part of God's plan.

 It reminds me of the wise words

shared with me months ago by an 

adoption experienced friend,

"God will provide, but maybe not in the ways you'd expect."

Yes, we had hoped and prayed for financial assistance from our church,

 but God has different plans.

Perfect plans.

We have seen Him at work

 in the hearts of many individuals,

within our family and our church family,
to give generously and sacrificially.

We are almost halfway there,

praise the Lord!

And

THANK YOU!

We really, really, thank you.

We are blessed and encouraged by the gifts you have given,

the prayers you have prayed,

and the words you have written.

You are a part of God's provision,
part of His plan.

"The Lord has done great things for us, 

and we are filled with joy."

~Psalm 126:3

Joy,  knowing that God is sovereign over every detail and every dollar.

Joy,  knowing that God loves this little boy more than we can even imagine.

Joy,  knowing that God has the perfect plan to bring him home.

Discouragements and disappointments may come,

but bitterness will not be part of our journey.

"See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God

and that no root of bitterness springs up,

causing trouble and by it, defiling many." 

~Hebrews 12:15 

I will not let my heart be troubled by this anymore.

For I know where our help comes from...

 "I lift up my eyes to the hills--where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord, 
the maker of heaven and earth."

~Psalm 121:1

Chapter Eight - No One Else

"George" jumped of the list.
(I am SO SORRY, but we are not allowed to share his picture with you yet!)

I had noticed him on the waiting kids listings before.

Maybe I should inquire?

Nah, we are taking a break.

(still staring)

He's pretty cute.

(still staring)

I'll keep looking, maybe make a list.
(he's first on the list)

This is so hard. 
(how do you make a list?)

I'll just inquire about four.

(It will take her a while to get back to me anyways.)

~ ~ ~

When Todd came home for lunch that day,

  we talked

...about adoption.

 ... about how it's in our face.

 ... about how God won't let us take a break.

I told Todd about the little waiting faces and how I inquired about four.

THE NEXT DAY
an email arrives from adoption worker.

She has the requested information.

But only for one.
Can you guess who?

"George."

No one else.

We pray about "George."

We think about "George."
We talk about "George."

We really, really like "George," 
a two year old in South Korea

with a long medical history.

His medical file was enormous and we couldn't understand the half of it.

The parts we could understand were pretty scary.  

We didn't care. 

Still, we had already learned that ignorance is never a good thing.

So we sent his medical files to my sister, a pediatrician, and asked for her input.

We waited.

I was so afraid of what she might say.

I was so afraid she would discourage us from going forward.

She didn't.

I emailed our adoption worker the next morning: "What's the next step?"

She had to check if he was on hold with any other Bethany families.

We waited.

Six hours later--no holds!

Now she had to check again. He might be on hold though another agency.

We waited.

48 hours later--no holds!

Guess what.

He's on hold now.


FOR US!!!

 

And this is how we feel about that!
 (click on arrow)

Chapter Seven - Red Flags

The flickering hope of adoption was once again a flame. 

First,

we met with our foster worker to re-open our license for domestic adoption. 

No problem! 

Then we think to ourselves, "Why not apply for international adoption too?"

  Leave no stone unturned!  Our son or daughter could be anywhere!

Now, 

I don't know if this decision was communicated between the two adoption departments,

but we never heard another word about our foster license again.

NOT.A.WORD.

  Meanwhile, our application for international adoption was accepted

and the wheels begin to roll in that direction.

Next difficult decision--what country? 

Each country has a different set of requirements.

After doing some research and asking ourselves some tough questions,

we felt led to adopt from Ethiopia.

 Red Flag Number ONE--the initial Ethiopia application was denied.

  I had filled in too many "no" blanks in the section
where you agree to accept health risks.

  I  honestly did not know what half of the diseases were,
so "no" seemed like the safe answer. 

Apparently ignorance is never the safe answer. 

After our ever so patient adoption worker explained the issues and we willingly accepted the possible risks, 

our second application attempt was accepted.

Red Flag Number TWO--we felt uneasy. 

Have you ever had that feeling

when you want to believe something to be true and right,

so you just keep telling yourself that it is,

but every time you think it 

or say it out loud,

you squirm a little inside?

Yep.  That was us and Ethiopia.

I can't tell you how discouraged we were at this point.

  I mean really.  
Again?

 

   Our minds were mush. We hit the brakes.

 I emailed our worker with some questions. 

She responded with words that became a turning point in our journey.

"I would certainly recommend viewing our waiting kids if you have not already."

What?

 Wait a minute.

  Why did she say that?
What about Ethiopia?

I blew it off as a passing remark.

  At this point,
the Mr. and I don't even want to think about it or talk about it.

  So we don't, at least not to each other.

Two weeks went by without much ado,

but we were both individually finding adoption
in our face everywhere we turned.

  The radio, the paper, magazines, conversations, blogs, facebook, television, you name it.
We may have hit the brakes, but God didn't.
 

  I kept thinking about looking at the kids on the waiting list.

I had looked before.

  Maybe I should just look again.

  No harm there.

So I did.



And there he was.

Chapter Six : The Year of Confusion

The last chapter ended with a broken heart.  

As we tried to process all that had happened,
seeds of doubt found fertile soil in our heads and hearts.

Maybe we had failed.
Maybe it was God's way of telling us "no."
  Maybe the "door" had closed.

Maybe we never should have started.

Maybe...maybe...maybe...

Wondering 
always gets me into a heap of trouble.

Always.

It is a huge stumbling block.

 Here is my own special recipe:

wondering + worrying + wrestling = confusion + doubt + fear.

I don't recommend.

And so we wandered together through almost a year of confusion. The months went by with only one foster referral coming our way.  That one referral was an obvious "no" this time.  More and more foster training packets were delivered. They sat collecting dust as we let our license expire--not intentionally, mind you. We were frustrated, dazed, and confused.  Soon we found ourselves stuck in a rut of doubt and fear, not going anywhere. After all, it was getting kinda' comfortable here in this rut.  Kinda' safe.  Kinda' easy,  like setting life on cruise control.  If God really wanted us to do this it wouldn't have been so hard. It would have had a happy ending. He would have given a clearer path. 

Right?

Retelling this part of our journey gives me a whole new appreciation for this:

"The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love." ~Psalm 103:8

                  

Thankfully, the Lord is compassionate and gracious, and He led me to attend a new-to-me Bible study where He proceeded to give me the big old kick in the pants I needed. And this verse, my friends, was my personal wake up call from the Word:

"Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.  Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it—they will be blessed in what they do."~James 1:22-25

 

OUCH.  

God's Word clearly tells us to care for orphans and widows. 

We knew that God had called us to care through adoption.  Yet, things didn't go the way we had planned, and God didn't give us all the answers we thought we needed to continue. So what did we do? We looked to our own limited understanding and found confusion and doubt, forgetting "what we had heard." We were so easily tempted to guard our lives from more pain and to find comfort and joy in the "transitory things of this world " instead.

Not cool.

"DO WHAT IT SAYS."

PERIOD.

Couldn't be any clearer than that. 

God continued to drive the point home everywhere we turned.

This video in particular just...well, you'll have to watch it to understand.

"We are just privileged to answer His call."

~Jackie Pullinger

We don't need all the answers.

  We don't need guarantees.

We don't need to know the plan.

We don't need to fear pain or sacrifice.

 What we need is FAITH.

Just answer the call.

"Do what it says."

GO!!

Puggle picture by Hanna!

Keeping Promises

I don't remember ever waiting so long for spring.

It's May already! Can we please have some warmth around here?

No wonder my southern sister won't come back.

I'm about ready to pack up and join her.

Can you tell I'm a little out of sorts,
a bit anxious,
dare I say...
cranky-ish-ly waiting for spring?

Or, maybe it's the waiting
  for something else that's got me tied up in knots.

Something bigger.

Well, he's actually pretty small.
But it's big for him and it's big for us.

Yet, it's never too big for HIM: 
a promise: "Ah, Sovereign Lord, you have made the heavens and the earth 
by your great power and outstretched arm.
Nothing is too hard for you." Jer. 32:17

Maybe it's the waiting for guidance with the unanswered questions,
with the many moving pieces, with the uncertainty.

a promise: "In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps." Prov. 16:9

Maybe it's the waiting for provision with deadlines approaching,
fees accumulating, and more on the way.

a promise: "God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus."  Phil. 4:19

 
Actually, 
it's the asking for provision that's got me all unglued today.
See that cute little airplane ticker and donate button above?
It makes me nervous. 

It's there because we are sending out adoption support letters soon.
We are asking for help.
From family. From church. From friends. 
The fund raising begins.
I swear butterflies are hatching in my belly.

Like right before the starting buzzer of the state championship game.
Like right before the horse lunges through the starting gate.
Like right before you bungee jump off a bridge.
Okay, so I've never done any of those things.

But you get the point.
It's a wee bit scary.

Is it okay to feel a little unhinged?
I don't know.
I know what Josie would say.

"Silly Momma!"

a promise: "Do not be anxious about anything, but in prayer and petition, with thanksgiving present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." 
Philippians 4:4-6

We don't know what provisions God has planned.

But we know He has a plan.
HE PROMISED.
 "We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield." Psalm 33:20