It's hard to believe another month has come and gone...ok, maybe not that hard. Our summer flew by at warp speed, so it's more summer being almost over that's hard to believe. :)
This month's adoption update won't be too "exciting" because not a whole lot happened. With E and the older boys needing new physicals and updated medical forms, we kind of took the month off, wanting to really soak up the last few weeks of summer. And there's been a summer cold circling the house that I managed to avoid until we got back from vacation, so I spent this past month with a cold. With this cold I was still able to function, but my energy was gone, I did what I had to do to get through the day (i.e..drinking way too much coffee) but there wasn't a whole lot of leftover energy, for anything else. This week we have some weird flu bug going through the house too, only 1 of the 5 kids is still standing. The oldest I had to pick-up early from his 1st day of school because he was sick and now today only 1 of the 3 oldest made it back to school for their 2nd day. Seriously?! I have some version of whatever the kids have, body aches, and cough, but thankfully, I have no fever (the kids have fevers). I'm pretty much over being sick. I've got things to do, like laundry, cleaning the house, feeding my family, now driving and picking up kids from school, attempting to exercise, making sure I shower several times a week, helping kids with school projects (yes, already), many other things I can't think of at the moment, oh yeah, and adoption related paperwork...ain't nobody got time to be sick!
Sorry, it's been a hard-ish month. Moving on, here's the update.
July 30th- Get an email from our social worker informing us that we had 2 more education courses to complete. Apparently these classes have been added to the education requirements in the past year...at least that's what it sounds like. Anyway, bummed that we've got more education to work on, purchase the classes and then put them off.
August 13th-Find out that now my father-in-law needs to have another physical and a new medical form filled out. His medical form was fine when we started but now because of delays with E and the older boys, the 6-month window that physicals need to be within has closed. Very discouraging.
August 20th- E goes in for his 2nd to last psych evaluation (paperwork appointment)
August 23rd- Our oldest goes in for his physical and has a new medical form filled out.
August 23rd- Had to document this, because to me it's kind of a big deal. E and I had a date night at Lambeau field and got to watch the Packer game in person! So. Much. Fun!
August 25th- We had our last professional family photo shoot as a family of 7. Got some pre-adoption pictures in there, and looking at some of the preview pictures, I'm so excited with how they're turning out!
August 27th- E has his final psych evaluation. Gets verbal confirmation that he's competent to adopt. Now we wait for the paperwork from our psychologist.
August 28th- Finish our education, for real this time, we are done (at least we better be). :)
August 29th- Our tiny peep's 3rd birthday!! Poor kid is sick on his birthday. :( However, I'm so excited to see him become a big brother this next year!
Another month has come and gone and now as we head into September, with fall fast approaching, though our bodies are tired and our emotions a little bit too, we are still trusting the One Who holds all our tomorrows. Believing that His timing is perfect through every delay and set back. Someday we may understand why these delays came when they did or we may not, but these last few days I've been resting (or at least trying to) in the fact that God sees the end from the beginning, and He will be faithful to bring us to the end of each leg or chapter of our journey.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Only God
I think sometimes in my life when I know God is at work and I know that there's a "big" testimony coming down the bend I get so focused on the ending that I miss, brush past, or don't fully allow the "smaller" testimonies to sink in. Or I simply don't see them until the "big" ending has taken place...and I regret that. Often times if I would take a step back and look for the "smaller" workings that God is doing, I would realize that those "small" workings are actually "big" too. And by seeing and acknowledging each working that God is doing, I am then able to use those times as "remembering stones" for when the journey again, gets hard. I can look back and see where my heart was, at the beginning and, where my heart is now, at the somewhere-almost-maybe-getting-close-to-the-middle of this adoption adventure of ours.
Having conversations with friends over the past few weeks it's almost scary to me that I didn't realize how "big" my heart being where it is today is. That I actually might have brushed it off as "small" or just "one of those things" that happens during adoption.
I was talking last night at our boys back-to-school picnic with a mom friend who has children in 2 of my boys classes. She is an adoptive mom herself. Our conversation last night, for me, was so refreshing. We shared things with each other and cried together...it was one of those conversations that unless we had both been through it or in my case she is on the other side and I'm going through it, the conversation would not have been possible. The minutes we spent together, between answering kids, keeping an eye on kids, and a few other interruptions were so precious.
I share last nights conversation because after that the magnitude of where my heart is now, hit me.
Before we started our adoption journey, whenever the subject would come up, one of the biggest reasons/fears in my heart and mind for not adopting was that I wasn't sure I could love a child that hadn't grown inside of me. That is all I know. All of our children, I "knew" for a number of months before they were even born. Would I be able to love another child, "not of my flesh" the same way? If there was even the slightest possibility of that answer being, no, I would not adopt. I couldn't adopt that wouldn't be fair to the child.
As we began our journey because of how God had so changed my heart towards adoption, how we believed He was asking us to step out in faith, how we knew that we needed to trust Him with every part of this journey, that question or fear sort of faded a bit. It took a back seat to paperwork, physicals, evaluations, semi-intrusive interviews, education, and many other adoption related "to-dos".
Since moving forward with our adoption as the months have passed I would have a day here and there where I felt like someone was missing. Our daughter is missing. She's not here. If she has already been born, she's on the other side of the world. Our family is not complete right now. As the days have gone on, that feeling has become an ache, an ache in my heart. I don't know what she looks like, I don't know her name, but I'm her mother and I miss her.
I miss her?
How can I miss her? I've never met her. How can I miss her? I don't know what she looks like, I don't know her name.
Last month we were on vacation. It was wonderful! A full week of non-adoption related, well, anything. Our goal was to relax and have fun. And we did.
However, on our anniversary (July 25). I was walking in and out of shops, mostly browsing. E had taken the kids to go run around at a park since browsing in semi-pricy shops really isn't their thing. And paying for broken items I don't want isn't really my thing. :)
I was alone, able to walk leisurely through shops. I walked into one shop and it wasn't anything in particular, but all of a sudden I found myself in the middle of the store fighting, with all I had in me to keep myself from crying. I don't like crying in front of people, but there I was in the middle of this store with tears running down my face. Me, trying to wipe them away quickly, and get-it together. I managed to pull myself together enough to purchase something, but for the rest of the day I was never far from tears. That ache in my heart for the daughter we don't know yet, had gone from and ache, to a deep hurt. I'm not even sure how to describe it, except to say, that it hurt to not know who she is. It hurt to not have her with me. It hurt to not have her in my arms.
It hurt.
I've done so before, but I spent that day praying for her, asking God to protect her, to love on her, to let her know she's so very loved...
Loved? She's loved! We don't know her name. We don't know who she is. But she's loved, more then she could know!
My testimony right now is, Only God!
Only God could take one of my biggest concerns/questions/fears about adoption and silence it before we even know her name, before we even know her face, before she's even in our arms.
I know myself and I know there's no way I could work up these feeling by myself. I could try, and might even succeed, but they wouldn't last.
I could never work up an ache in my heart so deep that sometimes it's hard to breathe, I miss her so much. I can't, there's no way.
Only God.
Having conversations with friends over the past few weeks it's almost scary to me that I didn't realize how "big" my heart being where it is today is. That I actually might have brushed it off as "small" or just "one of those things" that happens during adoption.
I was talking last night at our boys back-to-school picnic with a mom friend who has children in 2 of my boys classes. She is an adoptive mom herself. Our conversation last night, for me, was so refreshing. We shared things with each other and cried together...it was one of those conversations that unless we had both been through it or in my case she is on the other side and I'm going through it, the conversation would not have been possible. The minutes we spent together, between answering kids, keeping an eye on kids, and a few other interruptions were so precious.
I share last nights conversation because after that the magnitude of where my heart is now, hit me.
Before we started our adoption journey, whenever the subject would come up, one of the biggest reasons/fears in my heart and mind for not adopting was that I wasn't sure I could love a child that hadn't grown inside of me. That is all I know. All of our children, I "knew" for a number of months before they were even born. Would I be able to love another child, "not of my flesh" the same way? If there was even the slightest possibility of that answer being, no, I would not adopt. I couldn't adopt that wouldn't be fair to the child.
As we began our journey because of how God had so changed my heart towards adoption, how we believed He was asking us to step out in faith, how we knew that we needed to trust Him with every part of this journey, that question or fear sort of faded a bit. It took a back seat to paperwork, physicals, evaluations, semi-intrusive interviews, education, and many other adoption related "to-dos".
Since moving forward with our adoption as the months have passed I would have a day here and there where I felt like someone was missing. Our daughter is missing. She's not here. If she has already been born, she's on the other side of the world. Our family is not complete right now. As the days have gone on, that feeling has become an ache, an ache in my heart. I don't know what she looks like, I don't know her name, but I'm her mother and I miss her.
I miss her?
How can I miss her? I've never met her. How can I miss her? I don't know what she looks like, I don't know her name.
Last month we were on vacation. It was wonderful! A full week of non-adoption related, well, anything. Our goal was to relax and have fun. And we did.
However, on our anniversary (July 25). I was walking in and out of shops, mostly browsing. E had taken the kids to go run around at a park since browsing in semi-pricy shops really isn't their thing. And paying for broken items I don't want isn't really my thing. :)
I was alone, able to walk leisurely through shops. I walked into one shop and it wasn't anything in particular, but all of a sudden I found myself in the middle of the store fighting, with all I had in me to keep myself from crying. I don't like crying in front of people, but there I was in the middle of this store with tears running down my face. Me, trying to wipe them away quickly, and get-it together. I managed to pull myself together enough to purchase something, but for the rest of the day I was never far from tears. That ache in my heart for the daughter we don't know yet, had gone from and ache, to a deep hurt. I'm not even sure how to describe it, except to say, that it hurt to not know who she is. It hurt to not have her with me. It hurt to not have her in my arms.
It hurt.
I've done so before, but I spent that day praying for her, asking God to protect her, to love on her, to let her know she's so very loved...
Loved? She's loved! We don't know her name. We don't know who she is. But she's loved, more then she could know!
My testimony right now is, Only God!
Only God could take one of my biggest concerns/questions/fears about adoption and silence it before we even know her name, before we even know her face, before she's even in our arms.
I know myself and I know there's no way I could work up these feeling by myself. I could try, and might even succeed, but they wouldn't last.
I could never work up an ache in my heart so deep that sometimes it's hard to breathe, I miss her so much. I can't, there's no way.
Only God.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Lessons In The Storm
A few weeks ago we had a storm come through our area. I am one of those people who love summer storms, although I do prefer day storms to night storms. My kids, however, don't care for storms whether they come during the day or the night. My two youngest especially don't like storms. The other night when this storm came, there were 2 extra (small) people in our bed. :) Normally if the kids are not with us when a storm comes there can be tears, looks and/or questions of concern, and if it happens to be at night requests for a campout in Dad and Mom's room.
The storm continued and I remember after one particularly bright flash of lighting, thinking "oh, boy, the thunder is going to be really loud this time." and sort of bracing myself for the littles' responses. The thunder was loud, really loud, it was the kind that you can almost feel traveling from somewhere above the house down into the ground.
The thunder came and went, and my room remained silent...
I half sat up in bed and looked over, and as another flash of lightning illuminated the bedroom I saw my 2 smallest children, the ones most afraid of storms, soundly sleeping.
The last huge, deep rumble of thunder didn't bother them in the least. As I sat there looking at them for the next few seconds, it was in that time I heard the Lord's gentle whisperings.
I love those whisperings, so gentle, but so profound at times, and most often in my case they come at the most interesting times. :) It was less then a minute of the Father speaking to my heart, but what He spoke was not only a revelation in a sense to me, it was also equipping me for things to come (though I didn't know that yet).
I remember looking at my sleeping children and wondering how it was that through this storm they were able to sleep so contentedly? I thought of this verse in Matthew 8:24 "Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping." My first thoughts were, "well, Jesus is God, of course He can sleep through a storm." As I was still looking at my kids so soundly sleeping, the Lord began His whisperings...
My smallest ones, who are so afraid of storms were able to sleep so peacefully because they knew they were and felt completely safe. They trust that being with me or their dad makes them safe, and they no longer need to fear the storm.
A smile crossed my face, another flash or 2 of lightning illuminated the room, and then I heard...
"That's how I want you to trust Me through life's storms."
It took me a moment to soak that in.
It's one thing to have a head knowledge of how to handle something, it's quite another thing when God speaks it directly to your heart, and that head knowledge becomes heart knowledge!
That was it, a few moments of tender whisperings.
I laid awake for a while after thinking, wanting to almost re-live those moments a few times over so as not to forget them anytime soon.
As days went on I was still thinking about that night, and asking the Lord questions and Him answering me, and again without my realizing it, He was equipping me for my own storms that were coming.
Much to my surprise, though looking back now, I really shouldn't have been surprised, a "life storm" blew in, I think less then a week after this night.
This storm, at it's peak had the potential to bring our adoption plans to a complete stop for close to 2 years. In the midst of this I remember crying out to the Lord, not understanding what was going on, or how the timing of things made sense. He reminded me of my children sleeping through the storm. Was I going to trust Him no matter the outcome? Was I going to believe that He is still in control? Was I going to be able to rest in this? My hesitant answer was "yes". However, I don't think I was able to rest until the storm was over.
The storm was fierce but short. And when it was over, I was lamenting over my reaction, feeling that my reaction was not what it should've been. And the Lord, again whispering, answered me...
"You came to Me." "You trusted Me with what you had."
I began to understand more. It wasn't so much how I initially reacted, though I want to work on that, that God was working on, it was my reaction, my living through the storm.
He's showing me the importance of keeping my eyes on Him, crying out to Him...sometimes over and over and over concerning the same thing.
He's showing me that regardless of what I'm feeling, whether I understand, or even if I'm afraid, if I can trust Him completely (or as much as I know how), and believe that He's in control no matter what...
Rest will come in the storm.
I know that what I'm sharing is not new, but it's an area that God is working on me in a new way.
Adoption is a storm...much of it is, and though I'm a work in progress, I'm learning to rest in the storm.
"He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed." Psalm 107:29
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