Isn't it Time? (thoughts while cleaning a stroller...)

I might have squealed just a bit when I saw it.

It was exactly what I'd told Derek weeks ago that I wanted.

A jogging stroller.

And here it was, its picture posted on a local online yard sale. And by someone I knew, which made it all the better.

A couple of texts between us, a stop at her house, and it was mine. 

Several days later we pulled the "new to us" stroller back out of the garage with the intention of giving it a good ol' scrubbing with the garden hose.  After sitting in my friend's garage for several years, it was time for the dust and cobwebs which had inevitably piled up, to go.

Derek began spraying it down as I gathered the hand towels and liquid soap. Quietly, we worked side by side.

Thinking our own individual thoughts as we moved our hands over the stroller, I looked at my husband, the man I've known for over 20 years, the man who said, "Why not?" to this journey before I could even wrap my head around it, the man whose patience seems to know no limit, and asked, "Whatcha thinking?"

He said, "It's time. "It's time to get our daughter."

Tears welling up in my eyes, I nodded my head, "I know."

Birds chirping and cars driving by, we stood next to each other in our driveway and petitioned our Creator once more for our girl.

Water pouring from the hose, desperate words pouring from our mouths.

God, please...isn't it time?

We have a stroller. We have the cozy crib. We have cute, sassy clothes. We have little shoes. All the little girl stuff.

We just don't have her.

But the official, Judge-approved, Judge-declared, written court orders we received a week ago (dated March 9, 2016) say we legally have her:

"In result I proceed to pass the following order:
It is hereby declared the proposed adopters, Mr. Derek Fort & Mrs. Michele Fort are the adoptive parents of the female minor, -----.

It is hereby declared that the female minor ----- shall have all legal rights including rights of inheritance as that of a natural born child of the proposed adopters, Mr. Derek Fort and Mrs. Michele Fort..."

Rights of inheritance....more tears.

Her second birthday was almost two weeks ago. We celebrated her (as best as a family can when the birthday girl isn't present) with balloons, a cookie/brownie dessert, and in song.

And last weekend we celebrated Easter.

The message of Easter itself refilled our hearts with the message of hope--believing that something good can come out of something bad.

Remembering that God is not finished.
That He is still at work.
That in His absolute sovereignty He sees the end of the story when all we see is the part we're in right now.
That all we need is a flicker of hope to keep believing.

And her passport. We need that passport.

Out of the blue, in the van the other day, Grace said, "Mom, I miss her. Some days I really miss my sister. I know that sounds impossible. But you know what I mean, right?  About missing someone you've never even met."

Yep. I do.

So I have to ask.

Would you please add one more prayer right now, as you have so faithfully, so many times prayed before?
Pray--earnestly--for that passport? Pray that it's time?

He has made everything beautiful in its time.

He has also set eternity in the human heart;

yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

Ecclesiastes 3:11

Matched With Our Girl! And What We Can Tell You So Far...

I realize I probably should have written portions of this post two months ago, but life just keeps going and I haven't been intentional in stopping, sitting down and taking the time to write out the specific details.  But in an effort to keep our story current on this blog, I am going to attempt to answer the questions we've been asked most lately concerning our journey to adopt:

When did you get matched with your daughter?

After three years of waiting, we finally got THE call.  The call all adoptive parents wait anxiously to get. On March 20 (the first day of spring), the assistant director over the India program from our agency (America World), phoned us and said she had a referral she was excited for us to consider. She sent us the little girl's picture, her personal information, and her medical file for us to review.

To say we were excited was an understatement.  We'd been praying for quite some time that we'd "know" our daughter when we saw her.  There are really no adequate words to describe both the joy we felt and the peace we sensed as we received all the information about this potential match for our family.  Our agency representative informed us we had two weeks to either accept or decline the referral. Our hearts wanted to say, "Yes!" at that very moment to seal the deal, but our minds knew the wisdom in taking the weekend to seek God's face about this huge, life-changing decision.

After consulting with our pediatrician concerning her medical issues and praying our guts out, we called our agency one week later and officially accepted the referral to adopt our little girl.  We shared the news with our parents, siblings, close friends and finally on Facebook with this image...

"No one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides You,
who acts on behalf of those who wait for Him."
Isaiah 64:4

What can you tell about her?

Not a whole lot actually.  All on account of the fact that we signed a privacy and confidentiality clause in our referral acceptance paperwork. What we can tell you is that she is a cutie!  We can also tell you she turned 14 months old yesterday.  Yes, she's still a baby!  So, we've got to go way back--breaking out the crib, the highchair, the stroller, the diaper bag and whatever else she's/we're going to need.  Thank goodness I am going to have some of the best helpers ever in Grace and Gloria.  What a blessing they will be to their little sister...and to me!

Because India has (typically) not been releasing younger children to be adopted by non-Indian families, we'd been told and we'd been expecting, to adopt an older child.  We'd been approved to adopt a female within the age range of 0-5 according to our last home study.  So when I asked the India program director, "How old is she?" and she responded with, "a year old", I was shocked.  Later on in the conversation, we found out her actual birthday was March 20, the very same day we got the news.  Seriously. Couldn't make it up if I tried.  While we missed the opportunity to throw her the big first birthday bash, prayerfully we'll make it up when she turns two!

What have you been doing since you were matched?

In a nutshell, we've been updating our home study since it had expired. We've had to redo so much paperwork.  Paperwork we'd completed twice before in the last three years.  And those blasted fingerprints. So many complications getting them. But from an email we received last week, everything is finally good to go with that.

We had our last home visit with our caseworker a week ago.  Well, the last one until she returns for a post-placement visit three months after we bring our daughter home.  We also asked our friend who is a notary to come over and notarize a stack of official documents which came straight from the orphanage and which will return right back to them. And lastly, I had to drive to Atlanta to get that stack of uber-important papers stamped with the federal apostille stamp before we could Fed Ex them on to our agency and then on to India.

What do you have to do next?

We have some immigration stuff to tackle, but for the most part our work here is done.  We've done all we need to do and now the orphanage is responsible for initiating and advocating for us as our case moves through the court system in India.  So we return to waiting.  Waiting for it all to continue to move forward on the other side of the world.

How much longer until you can go get her?

According to our agency, probably another 10 months...though we are praying it will be sooner!  Like 5-6 months sooner.  The good news is that we do not have to be present for us to pass the court process.  It is completed via adoption paperwork submitted by the orphanage on behalf of us. The orphanage will hold a Power of Attorney to represent us to the judge.  A court decree is then issued which allows the orphanage to apply for our daughter's passport.

Once her passport is obtained, we can arrange to travel to India to get her! Unfortunately, there is no estimated time frame for the court approval processes, so we really have no clue.  But another piece of good news is that according to our agency, our little girl is in a "good" orphanage. Basically, it means it's one in which our agency has worked with in years/situations past and continues to have a good working relationship. Always a good thing.

How long will you be in India?

We'll be there about two weeks to complete the adoption and wait on various paperwork and approvals. We'll have a guide from our agency there to assist us during this part of the process, which is very reassuring.

Derek and I have chosen not to take our girls with us on the trip.  As much as they would both like to go to be a part of this journey and to help tell her story, they understand the added difficulty and of course, cost, if they were to travel with us.  We are dreading being away from them for two weeks, but we'll do what we have to do. Skyping each other every chance we can will help and of course, praying the time goes by quickly until we can all be together as a new family unit.

We're excited.  Our girls are excited.  In our heads, we know inevitably there are going to be new challenges, but we also know there will be so many new joys.

Countless are the other personal, intimate details of this story so far, which unfortunately I cannot share in this public forum. If I've had a conversation with you, then you already know how amazing God's hand has been in this. If not, then hopefully I will have the chance to share soon.  I've always told the Lord that as long as He keeps writing the story, I'll tell it.  His thoughts, His ways are so much higher than ours. And already He has done far more than we could have ever asked or imagined.

How can we pray?

Please pray this part of the process goes by quickly.  And in the words of my friend, that "God will move expeditiously on behalf of His children."

Expeditiously.  Isn't that an awesome word?  So awesome to me that it's recently moved all the way to the tippy-top of my favorites list!

Yes, we've waited a long time. But as anyone should understand, the wait is harder now because we know who we're waiting for.

"Though it linger, wait for it; 

it will certainly come and will not delay." 

Habakkuk 2:3b

Falling Through My Kitchen Ceiling & an Adoption Update (because they totally go together...)

If we're friends on Facebook, then you may have seen this picture and post three weeks ago:

"See this disastrous hole in my kitchen ceiling?  Now just imagine my entire left leg dangling from it.
Why?  Because about an hour ago, it was!

In an effort to save a little $$$, I went to the attic to try to find some of Grace's previously worn black dress shoes for Gloria to wear this weekend to a Valentine's dance.  Wasn't paying attention, took one step back & down I went...screaming all the way.

Took Derek about 2 seconds to race up the ladder & rescue his insulation-covered, shaken-up, teary wife.  Girls witnessed the whole thing & were quite shaken up as well. :( 

I bruised my knee & right wrist has been throbbing (& of course my pride is wounded), but other than that, I'm good.  Praise God!

So...looking back (& up at this mess), I'm thinking it would've been a whole lot cheaper to have just purchased new dress shoes..."

From the response I received, apparently falling through your ceiling is more common than I had initially thought.  After the shock wore off and the heart rates went down, we all got a good ol' fashioned belly laugh about it, particularly when my oldest said, "Mom, no offense or anything...but when I saw your leg hanging down, all I could think of were the huge shoes at the Center for Puppetry Arts."

A most accurate comparison indeed.

The last time we were at the
Center for Puppetry Arts in Atlanta

What I recall most of that entire evening was not the scary moment I fell, the humongous mess in my kitchen, or the pain I was feeling in my body.  It was actually something Grace, my oldest, said to me moments after it all happened.

My sweet, compassionate girls had ushered me to the recliner in the living room and had given me ice packs for my knee and wrist.  And while they were doctoring me (and my frazzled emotions) with lots of TLC, Derek took to action, cutting back loose dry wall, vacuuming up the insulation, etc.  Then without saying a word, he headed back up into the attic with a large piece of cardboard he'd found in the garage.

From the recliner, Grace and I could hear him working and could see some movement, but weren't sure what he was doing.  I asked her, "So...what do you think he's doing up there?" 

Gazing up at her daddy, Grace nonchalantly said, "Hmm...I don't know. But I trust him."

Forget the new bumps and bruises on my body, that simple comment left fresh marks on my heart.

And I knew why.

Three years ago, in one of the biggest steps of faith we've ever taken as a family, we began the journey to adopt.  Three years ago.  Sometimes it seems like yesterday and other times, another lifetime ago.

Last spring we thought we'd finally found her.  A brown-skinned 9-month old girl with a cleft lip and palate. We requested her file from her orphanage, spent hours researching future surgeries she'd need here in the States and even had discussions of the exact placement of her crib in our bedroom.

But then we got a phone call.  It wasn't going to happen.  We were not allowed to be matched with her. Officially, we were still attached to our original orphanage in northwest India and this little girl was in a very different orphanage in southeast India.  And adoption law in India (CARA) dictated that was not a possibility.

Disappointment hurts.  Especially of the faith variety.  Somewhere along the way, I've pulled back.  In the past year, I've struggled with trust and unbelief.  I've wrestled with doubt and fear.  I've grappled with selfishness and apathy.  I've even fought thoughts of, "Do I even still want what we've been waiting for these past three years?"

Inside, I've been a mess of emotions.  I've suffered from tension headaches.  All because I can't seem to regain the confidence I once had in this journey.  I've lost it...or rather had it stolen from me.  I guess waiting a long time for anything has the potential to do that to a person.

Through all of this (and trust me, we're still in the midst of it), God has been kind.  He's been more than patient.  He's been faithful when I've been completely faithless.  He's shown me that it's been this dormant disappointment which has kept me from reaching out in full faith again, believing Him and all the promises He's given us in the last three years.

About a month ago, He directed me to this in His word:

"In You our fathers put their trust; 

they trusted and You delivered them.

They cried to You and were saved; 

in You they trusted and were not disappointed." 

Psalm 22:4-5

Trust and disappointment.

And then just this past Sunday, our pastor, referencing David's two-decade wait to become the anointed King of Israel says this,

"The work of faith is in the waiting.  

The work of faith is when it's not.  

Will you wait faithfully?"

Waiting and faith.

And then we headed into Kids Crossing where we serve, where the new virtue for the month of March is patience. Yep.  Patience.

So, there I stood on stage Sunday, talking about the impatience of Esau with his brother, Jacob, and encouraging the kids to keep waiting on God's best, even if they don't think they can wait one. more. second.

Patience.

It's almost like God is telling us something...

After this emotional update, let me give you the logistical update with the adoption.  I know the guys would've liked this first, but sorry, I write the blog posts around here, not Derek.

Following the debacle last spring, our adoption agency contacted CARA (the governing agency dealing with all things adoption in India) and petitioned we be released from the orphanage they'd matched us with nearly three years ago.  After months and months of waiting for this request to be granted (because everything in India moves slower than slow), our request has been granted.  We are now officially unattached.

What does this mean?

This means we now have access to a special listing/database called CARINGS.  From what we understand, this database is updated and monitored daily by adoption agencies all over the world.  Indian orphanages upload children from their orphanages onto this list for adoption.  Since India is not releasing young, "healthy" children to be adopted by foreign families right now, this listing contains children with various special needs, ranging from mild to very severe.  The little girl with the cleft lip we had hoped to pursue in adoption was on this list.

Yes, we are clueless as to how this will all come to pass, but we are choosing to stay the course until we feel nudged to do otherwise.

What do we do while we're in this limbo state?

We...(wait for it...) wait.

And similar to Derek quietly taking care of business up in our attic, I choose to believe God is working, too.

Even when my feelings try to convince me otherwise, His Word says He is for us. He is for the fatherless. The plans He has for us are good.  Plans to prosper us, not to harm us. Plans to give us a hope and a future.

So...what is He doing?

"Hmm...I don't know.  But...I trust Him."

In the recliner...post-fall.

Sore Loser?

The other day I wanted Heaven.  Like really, really wanted it.

 

I wanted all that I know to be true about it. 

 

I wanted perfection.  And purity.  And health.  And right.  And full.  And joy.

 

No problems.  No pain.  No tears.  No wrong.  No lack.  No loss.

 

I just really wanted Heaven.  For me and for so many others.

 

I've noticed these times of longing happen periodically.  But mostly, whenever I'm sensing lack or loss.  Which is where I was.  Which in some ways is where I still am.

 

An experience or a reminder and that earthly feeling of emptiness settles in my soul and I don't like it.  I don't like empty or lack or loss.

 

I like full.  I like a full belly after a meal.  A full pantry after a trip to the grocery store.  A calendar full of activities.  A full bank account.  Full experiences.  Full opportunities.  I don't like empty.

 

I didn't like it seven years ago this month when we had one of our most profound losses.  When one day we were celebrating life.  And weeks later, mourning loss.  When hope and expectation filled my womb, only to be followed by emptiness.  When the label "miscarried" replaced "pregnant".

 

And I still don't like empty today.

 

According to wise Solomon, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven." (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

 

If I take the fullness in one season, I have to be able to deal with the lack in another. 

Last week, my girls stayed home with a babysitter while my husband and I attended a meeting at church.  When we got home, we received a not-so-great report from my oldest daughter about our youngest daughter's behavior. 

On two different occasions, she acted out because things didn't quite go her way. 

She didn't want to take her turn being "IT" during a game of tag.  Then in the midst of trying to decide on a movie to watch, she expressed her discontent because she lost a round of  "Eeny, meeny, miney, moe" as well as "Whoever guesses the number gets to choose"--two well-played attempts by our sitter to be fair about the selection process.

This isn't the first time we've seen our youngest behave this way.  She's a six year old who doesn't like to lose (I mean, what six year old does?).  As her parents, one of our present tasks is helping her learn to deal with loss and not grow up with a "sore loser" label attached to her cute little forehead.

As my husband and I sat in her room that night explaining her offense and discussing consequences with her, I felt the Spirit nudge me, too.

How are you dealing with your current losses? 

With fussing?  Complaining?  Pouting?  With a disagreeable spirit?  With a "That's not fair" attitude? 

Or with acceptance?  And patience?  And prayer?

As I wrestled this out with the Lord,  I asked, "What do I do with all of this?  When I see loss and lack in my world and in others' worlds?  When Heaven is not an option right now, Lord?"

His quiet, but clear response was this...

Have it to the full.  Abundance.  His reminder of what He gives.   

He gives life.  And He promises to give it to the full.

Then suddenly a flood of other reminders rushed at me. 

This...

 

And this...

 

And this...

All reminders that my Father's speciality is fullness.

These empty, filled with loss, moments and seasons have the potential for great purpose. 

But only if we take them to the One whose fullness can crowd them out.

So that's what I'm asking during this season.

Father, fill me with Your fullness.  Let it crowd out the empty places.  The places where I see and feel lack and loss.  Help me not to be a sore loser.  And may I be content on the days when I really just want Heaven.  Thank you for coming.  Thank you for promising life to the full.

Darned Expectations

She got hit.  Hard. 

Right smack in her upper left thigh. 

It was her second at-bat in this particular game, but the first time she'd ever truly been hit by a fast-pitch while standing in the batter's box.  She took a few steps, dropped her bat and grimaced.  She was mad.  Then the hot tears came.  The pain and the anger were clear for all to see as my nine-year-old hobbled toward first base.

When she got there, she was met by her coach, a.k.a. "Daddy".  He spoke with her for a second, checking to see if she was okay.  I couldn't hear him, but did manage to hear her say, "I can't.  It hurts!"  Rubbing her stinging leg and fighting back the tears, she stepped onto first base, poised to steal second, which she did successfully. 

A minute later, she tried to steal third base.  But whether it was the throbbing in her leg or absentmindedness, she didn't slide, which is strange because she always slides if she knows it's going to be a close play. Because she didn't get down, she was thrown out.  (And for the record, she has yet to be thrown out this whole season.)


Safely sliding under the tag in a previous game.

Whereas I thought she was mad before, now she was spewing.  She fought with everything in her not to explode as she trotted off the field.  But as soon as she stepped into the dugout, the dam broke.  I watched her for a second, gave her some time to cool off and then made eye contact with her. 

"So...what happened out there?"

"First I struck out!  Then I got hit!  Then I got tagged out!  I DON'T like to get out!"

I attempted to calm her down as best I could while I listened to her frustration.  Then softly I said, "Mama said there'd be days like this, there'd be days like this, Mama said."

As helpful as I thought my words were, I'm fairly certain she didn't agree.  As a matter of fact, I believe I detected a slight eye-roll behind the mask and beneath the shades.

I reminded her to keep her self-control in check, take the frustration she was feeling and put it into playing defense the rest of the inning.

This is Grace's sixth season playing softball.  She's always enjoyed the game, but her love and interest in it has grown ten fold recently.

And I know exactly why. 

It began the afternoon we took her to her first game at the University of Georgia softball stadium to watch the Lady Dawgs play.

 

 

It continued to grow as she watched these college softball players excel in all the things she'd been learning to do over the past few seasons. 

It grew even more at the next game she attended, when both her team and her sister's team got to tour the locker room and then walk onto the field with the UGA players for the pre-game ceremonies.

And it hit an all-time high when she got to meet and get her glove and t-shirt signed by Geri Ann Glasco, the first baseman and her favorite UGA player, after the last game we attended.

Grace & Geri Ann

She wears her signed t-shirt constantly.  She's analyzed the UGA softball program.  She's memorized every player from the team poster hanging on her door.  She was even excited to write about UGA softball and Geri Ann for her descriptive writing assignment a few weeks ago here at home.

Since then, all we've heard is how much she wants to be like her.  She wants to hit just like her and she wants to play first base just like her.  She even wants to play for UGA just like her.  And she wants to do it all today.

We think it's great she has a softball hero heroine to look up to, much like little boys look up to Major League Baseball players.  We think it's super she is setting goals for herself and trying to improve her skills.  We think it's wonderful she is trying so hard and feels such passion for the game.  We love that she loves to play and to compete.

But here's where we aren't too pleased--when she sets up unrealistic expectations for herself and then beats herself up when she doesn't meet them now.

I mean, come on.  Grace is nine.  Geri Ann is nineteen.  Grace has played the game for six seasons and Geri Ann, well, way more than that.  Grace is a good athlete, but who's only had limited coaching and experience so far.  Geri Ann has combined her natural talent with years of specific, individualized training and hard work.  As best I could, I tried to explain this concept to our girl as we drove home.

"Grace, you gotta give yourself some grace.  Geri Ann has had years and years of training and practice.  Don't worry about being like her today and don't get disappointed because you aren't.  Stop comparing yourself to her abilities and accomplishments today.  Just be the best player you can be right now.  I promise you'll enjoy playing softball a whole lot more."

But in midst of speaking those very words, I suddenly realized how much I could relate to her.  I totally get those darned expectations. 

Silently or unknowingly I have heaped them upon myself and then felt angry or depressed when I didn't meet them.  When I have wanted (so badly) to do something someone else has done or have something it took someone else years to obtain, I have felt disappointed.  Maybe I needed more practice developing my skills or maybe I needed to wait for more time to pass.  Or maybe I needed to drop it altogether.

Whenever and whatever the reason, I need to extend grace to myself.  I need to take my own advice about the expectations I place on myself sometimes as a woman, as a wife, as a mom, etc. I just need to be the best version of me God is shaping me to be right now.  Goals are great.  Mentors are wonderful.  But when I quit comparing myself to others and contentedly just be me right now, I find I enjoy this game of life a whole lot more.

And you, friend?  Ever heaped an extra helping of those darned expectations upon yourself?  If not, please share your victories or your secrets for extending grace to yourself while battling the comparison game.

We Got Nothing

Yesterday, in one single day, we had three different friends approach us to ask specifically about the adoption. 

One told us she had a list of friends she'd been praying for, friends just like us, who were adopting.  She went on to tell us that we were the last, and only family, still waiting for their child on her list.  (Keep praying so you can mark us off next, Helena!)

Another friend excitedly told me about her colleague who just recently announced she and her husband have also been called to adopt from India.  (Thanks for sharing this amazing news with us, Katy!)

And last night, I got a private FB message from a friend who stated, "I believe Pearl is on her way."  She has been praying for us and for several other friends adopting internationally. (Such encouraging faith, Shannon!  Thank you for praying!)

All three of these interactions in one single day was just the inoculation of encouragement we needed at just the time we needed it.

It's only been six weeks since the last adoption post.  (You know...the one about the giant wall of opposition we're facing?)  Only six weeks.  That's nothing, really.  It's not like months, or years or decades.  Just weeks. 

But in this short time, lots of precious friends have asked, "How's it going?  Any updates?"

My response:  "No.  We got nothing."

I have affectionately deemed this time our "land of nothingness".

The last year has been a flurry of activity.  We've filled out paperwork, prepared for home visits, and organized fundraisers.  All progressive, moving forward activities.  But the land of nothingness...it's that time where we cannot see any progress.  We've not heard of any changes.  It's the time between what has already transpired and what is to come.

It's the dry area in the middle.  We left what we'd always known and stepped out in faith.  We've seen God's amazing and miraculous acts with our own eyes on our behalf and for His glory.  And we can see the hope of what lies ahead, according to His promise.

But for now, we are forced to wait.  Lingering in this land of nothingness.  We want to see.  We want to hear.  But right now, we got nothing.

For some, seeing is believing.  I mean, let's all admit that seeing sure helps believing, right?  When we have visibly seen, with our own eyes, the mighty hand and outstretched arm of God work, our faith goes up exponentially.

But what about the times when we can't see a thing?  When we feel we are groping around in a fog, hoping to catch just a glimpse of something, anything to lock our eyes upon.

That's where we are now.  The place where God is hitting the refresh button in our minds with this truth:  believing, is in fact, seeing.

As my husband prayed the other day, "Lord, we believe you are still working.  We have to believe, because we see nothing right now."

Similar to when I was pregnant with the girls, I had no clue what was going on inside of me.  Visibly, I could not see all the intricacies of my pregnancies.  I did not know exactly how God was forming and creating and knitting together my daughters in my womb.  But I knew He was at work, even though I saw nothing, except a swollen belly.  And I trusted Him.  Period.

I've been reading about the Israelites in the Old Testament a lot lately.  And at different times in the last year and half, I have been drawn to different parts of their story. 

Recently, it's been all about their time in the desert.  What did they do there?  What did they not do there?  How long were they there?  Why were they there?  And my most pressing question, where was God while they were there? 

So God, in His overwhelming kindness, reassured me with this verse the other day:

"He led you through the vast and dreadful desert..." Deuteronomy 8:15

It's what Moses said to the Israelites, God's treasured possession.  He said it to encourage them to always remember what God had done for them.  How He had never left them alone to find their own way.  It's the same words He has used to encourage me, thousands of years later.

We will get through this land of nothingness.  He will lead us through to where He wants us to be at the exact moment we need to be there.  (Just selfishly praying it's not forty years, because well, I'll be really, really old then.)

I choose to believe that, even especially when I got nothing.

I trust you, God.  Period.

"But be assured today that the LORD your God is the One who goes across ahead of you like a devouring fire."

Deuternonomy 9:3a



A Wall That Must Fall

Ever feel like things are going really well in a certain situation in your life?  Actually, better than well?

But then suddenly, and without warning, out of nowhere...BAM!

You run face-first, smack into a wall.  Not just any wall.  But an enormous, unexpected, seemingly-impossible-to-scale wall.

Yeah.  Well...if you have, then we understand.  Completely.  Because we have officially hit our wall. 

Almost three weeks ago we got an email update from our adoption agency.

Our India coordinator had just returned from an international adoption conference in India and from the exact city where our orphanage is located.  Fortunately, she had the opportunity to visit our orphanage and to speak with the caregivers and social workers there. 

Good news.

Unfortunately, everything else she told us after that was the exact opposite.

The bad news is summed up in one line from her email..."...it seems extremely unlikely that there would ever be a potential for a match for your family..."

Discouraging.  Disheartening.  Disappointing.

Following a conversation on the phone, here's what we know for sure:  Our orphanage is tiny.  Extremely tiny.  Like, only 10 kids in the entire orphanage, tiny. 

And only a "few" children there matched the specifics listed in our Home Study.  And then those "few" children would undoubtedly be adopted to one of the hundreds of Indian families on the domestic waiting list, according to Hague Convention law.

The only silver lining we see so far is that we are the only international file in the orphanage at this time.  At least we have no other "competition" and at least we definitely stick out.

So...even though those are the blatant facts staring at us right now, here's why we have not lost heart.  Hang with me as I try to explain.

I started reading the book, The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson, the day before we got the email from our agency.  I am going through it with an amazing group of women from my church.  The premise of the book is the encouragement to pray circles around your biggest dreams and your greatest fears. 

Bold, persistent, specific prayers honor God and God honors bold, persistent specific prayers.

Pertaining to the infamous battle of Jericho in Joshua 6, the author asks this question in chapter 3,

 

"What is your Jericho?" 

In other words,
Like the Israelites, what promise are you praying around? 
What miracle are you marching around? 
What dream does your life revolve around, right now?

When I read this crucial question, I thought to myself, "I don't have a specific wall I'm marching around right now."

The very next day I did. 

BAM.  Hit. The. Wall. 

After our conversation with our agency coordinator, I asked my husband, "So what do we do now?"
He responded, "We pray through.  We gird up our loins and we just keep praying."

When I opened my Bible the next morning, the pages fell to the book of Daniel chapter 10.  Skimming the page, I read these highlighted words spoken to Daniel in verse 12 when God sent a messenger to him, "Do not be afraid, Daniel.  Since the first day your words were heard...." 

The messenger goes on to tell Daniel that even though he was now there, he had been delayed for 21 days by a powerful spiritual being. Daniel's prayers had been hindered by unseen obstacles.

After reading that scripture, I noticed something I had written in the side of my Bible about 10 years ago when I first heard a message about this passage, "Battles exist in the spiritual realms." 

Really.  They do.

At that point, I said out-loud, "Okay, Lord. The battle has now begun."   After a year of "easy" in this adoption journey, here we go.  Game on.

I opened my book, The Circle Maker, to read chapter 4 and nearly choked when I saw the title, "Praying Through".  Remember?  They were the exact words Derek had just said to me the night before.  I mean, seriously?

Then I read Joshua 6:2, printed right there in the middle of the chapter,

"Then the LORD said to Joshua,

'See, I have delivered Jericho into your hands."

 

But when I read it, I did not see the word, "Jericho".  I saw the word, "Pearl", the name we will give our little girl. 

 

God didn't just promise Joshua, "I will deliver."  No.  He used past tense.  "I have delivered."

 

Here were the author's next words in that same chapter:

 

"The battle was won before the battle even began.  God had already given them the city.  All they had to do was circle it."

 

The battle was won before the battle even began.

The battle was won before the battle even began.

The battle was won before the battle even began.

 

Yes.  I typed it 3 times in a larger font because it IS that profound to us!

 

As soon I read those words, the floodgates opened and I went into the ugly cry right there in my very own bed.  I sensed the Lord speaking that promise to me, tenderly, passionately, and fiercely.  Here I had just told Him, "Okay, Lord.  The battle has now begun."  Yet He promised me, "The battle was won before the battle even began."

 

So...yes, while we are disheartened about this latest news with the adoption, we have not lost hope.  God is SO real, y'all.  And He is FOR us.  ALL of us. 

 

Our coordinator gave us three options before we ended our conversation on the phone that night nearly three weeks ago.  We have chosen the last one: hang tight and keep waiting.  And while we wait, we're praying through.  Circling an intimidatingly, gigantic wall, praying it will fall. 

 

Would you consider joining us?  It took a huge army of Israelites, obeying God, believing God, and waiting for God to crash that wall so they could step into their promise.  Even Especially when it seemed impossible. 

Lord, this wall must fall.  It must if we are to move forward in this journey to adopt our little girl.  Make a way where there seems to be no way.  There is no limit to Your power and to Your might.  Set the stage for Your glory to be revealed and allow us the privilege of having a front-row seat.  We believe You have delivered Pearl into our hands.  Give us persistence and perseverance as we keep circling and keep praying for this wall to fall.  Amen.

Desperate

One year ago this week we signed our names on the papers.  We said "yes" to this amazing journey to adopt.  We applied to the India program with our agency and have yet to look back. 

Full steam ahead for 365 days.  That is until last week when we had our first setback.

A phone call.  Another phone call.  Excitement.  An email.  A picture.  Information.  More excitement.  Some questions.  Some answers.  Some concerns.  Some prayers.  Another email.  More questions.  More answers.  More concerns.  Less excitement.  More prayer.

Argggggg.......

When was the last time you were desperate?  Desperate to know what you should do?  Desperate to know, without any hesitation, His plan for you?  Desperate to see His hand and seek His face in light of your situation? 

In a nutshell, that was us last week.  Summed up and tied up in one emotion-packed word:  desperate.  Faced with a HUGE, life-altering decision and desperately needing wisdom.  ASAP.

"If you don't know what you're doing, pray to the Father. 

He loves to help.  You'll get His help, and won't be condescended to when you ask for it. 

Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought."

James 1:5-6 (The Message) 

We know our Father's voice.  We have heard Him say, "Yes" and we have heard Him say, "No".  We know what undeniable peace feels like when we're walking the path He's set before us.  We also know what unrest, irritability and irritation feels like when we're not.

The whole situation reminded me of a winter day a couple of years ago.  On this particular day, I was traveling alone in my car to an unknown destination, trying to figure out the newly added navigation feature on my phone. 

On the way there, I got turned around.  I didn't know where I was going.  All because my cell phone kept cutting out.  The signal kept fading and I needed to hear the GPS voice to know which way to turn and to help me get to my destination.

I needed help.  If I didn't hear the voice,  I would be lost.

Then I remembered this:

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying,

'This is the way; walk in it.'"

Isaiah 30:21 (NIV)

The phone finally kicked back in and thankfully, I arrived exactly where I needed to be and exactly when I needed to be there.

Last week, my mind went back to that day in the car while comparing it to our current situation.  In the same way, Derek and I needed direction.  Our ears needed to hear His voice telling us "This is the way. Walk." or "This is not the way. Stop."

Our minds sorted through the facts.  Our hearts felt the pull of the emotional weight bearing down on us.  We desperately wanted it all to work out.

With each passing hour, each new piece of information, and each prayer prayed, we strained to hear.  We leaned in, listened and eventually, heard Him clearly.

What we'd been so hopeful for and so excited about, quickly turned the other way.  We struggled.  We cried.  We released it.  And that's when we felt the loss.  Just like we did when we walked through the miscarriage I had nearly seven years ago.

When it wasn't meant to be.  Not then.  Not now.

We started this journey by letting our "yes be yes".  But in this particular situation we had to simply let our "no be no."

Today, we are not disheartened, just disappointed.  Our hearts no longer heavy, but hopeful.

We will continue to wait for God and for His immaculate timing for our family.  It will happen.  We don't have the slightest idea when, but we hold to the belief that it will.  And hopefully, soon and very soon.

For now, we've gotten up, dusted ourselves off, laced up our shoes and stepped back on the path of this journey.  We are walking again.  But some things remain unchanged. 

We are still desperate. Still desperate for His leading.  Still desperate for His voice.  Still desperate for His direction.

We will keep going and keep trusting and keep asking for His help to know where to walk and when to walk toward the little one we are desperate to have in our family.


(Forgive me for the vagueness of this post.  Unfortunately, we cannot share all the details for privacy's sake.  Thank you for understanding.)

Questions, Some Answers, & No Answers

 

"How's the adoption going?" 

"What's the latest?"

"Any idea on how much longer?"

"Do you know who she is yet?"

In light of the curious and justified questions asked of us over the past few weeks, an update post is probably l-o-n-g overdue. 

(By the way, we love the opportunity to talk about our adoption journey.  It thrills us that you care enough to ask!  So, THANK you!)

With our Home Study's completion in mid-September, our agency was ready to register us with CARA (Central Adoption Resource Authority), the governing authority responsible for all adoptions in India. 

On October 1st, our family was entered into the online registry in India.  Here was my Facebook status early that morning:

"Our family REALLY needs prayer! PLEASE circle us we submit our request/info. to CARA, the governing agency dealing with all adoptions in India. According to our agency, we will be matched with an orphanage in approx. 2 weeks. Please PRAY for God's hand to move our paperwork to the exact orphanage He planned beforehand and where our daughter is currently being cared for. This is a BIG deal! Thank you for praying BIG prayers with us to a BIG God who alone can do BIG things.”

CARA matches each family with one orphanage and each orphanage matches each family with one child.  There are no books for us to peruse, no pages of children for us to decide upon.  Control is in the hands of CARA and the orphanage, not us. 

No worries though, because we know and we rest in Who ultimately has all the control!

Just this month, another huge responsibility was checked off our list of requirements to adopt.  The dossier ("doss-ee-ay") was officially completed and mailed off on November 1st. 

The dossier really put the hunter-gatherer in us to work.  Particularly Derek, who gets all the credit for spear-heading this colossal task and for maintaining the documents checklist.  He's a total rock star in my book. :)

The dossier is an extensive collection of papers containing very detailed information about us.  First it goes to our agency, then on to India.  The good news is that many of the same documents we had to gather for the Home Study were also needed for the dossier.  Each document had to be notarized, and also apostilled, which is a special governmental stamp verifying the notary stamps were authentic and legit.

The infamous apostille stamp

VERY thick stack of papers!

Anything and just about everything one could possibly want to know about us!

Bottom line: 
*We have done all that we are required to do at this time.  To date, it's been over a month since we were registered with CARA and still no word on an orphanage.  How exciting it will be to finally know what city she is in!

*We do not have any idea how much longer.  As we have learned, our agency can only estimate time frames.  And surprisingly, we are okay with that.  God's timing is absolutely perfect.  We will know what we need to know when we need to know it. 

*We do not know who our little Pearl is yet, but God does.  He is loves her. He cares for her.  He created her.  He has a plan for her.  He is preparing her to be with us.  And He is preparing us to be with her.

Thank you for asking questions; it reminds us how much you truly care!  Keep asking and we'll try to keep answering.  Well...as long as we have the answers, that is!

Maybe...the Best Has Yet to be Written

Same routine.  Every school morning.  Here at home.

Shortly after Bible and calendar, we jump right into the discipline of handwriting practice. 

While my third grader works diligently, perfecting her letters in cursive, my kindergartner works simultaneously, mastering the strokes of her manuscript alphabet.  All the while, we play the same game, in the same way--everyday.

We affectionately call it the, "find and circle your very best letter, which you just wrote on your paper" game.  Pretty original, right?

My youngest writes her letters.  She picks her favorite(s).  Then, I pick mine.

Object of the game--see if we agree on the same letter. 

Of course we all know the real game is just Mommy's slightly sneaky way of making sure darling daughter takes her time and takes pride in doing her best work.  And for the most part, Mommy's plan works accordingly.

Until the other day.

Here's a bit of the conversation which took place between my youngest pupil and me:

Me:  "Okay.  Let's see...which one will be your BEST letter today?  Hmm...I am SO excited.  I CANNOT wait to see which one it will be!"

Her:  (writes exactly one letter after example letter) "This is it.  This is the best one."

Me:  "Uh, yes, that one is really fantastic, but look.  You still have some more spaces so...you can write some more."

Her:  "I don't want to.  I already wrote the best one."

Me:  "I really think you should keep going.  Who knows?  Maybe the best has yet to be written."

With that, my budding writer picks up her pencil and moves it across the page.  When all is said and done, she's written a beautiful letter on every dot, on every line. (whew!)

Setting her pencil down, we both agree her very best letter was the one she'd written toward the end, after more time, more practice and more repetition.

She's surprised at herself and I'm surprised at the words I just spoke to her (especially after my last blog post).

Maybe my best has yet to be written, too. 

Why do I so often think my best times, best efforts, best moments are right now, or worse, that they've already occurred?

Why is it, particularly lately, that I have flashes when I am less than excited about the future coming to pass?

Why do I concern myself with the next couple of years when our family grows through adoption or the next ten years when I am the mother to three teenage girls or the next fifteen-twenty years when my home is just one big, very quiet, very empty nest?

If the scripture tells me that "all the days ordained for me were written in His book before even one of them came to be" (Psalm 139:16)...

And if the scripture tells me that "no eye has seen, no ear as heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him" (1 Corinthians 2:9)...

Then maybe I should be celebrating and laughing at the days to come (Proverbs 31:25) instead of exerting time, energy, and brain cells feeling hesitant and insecure.

Maybe, just maybe...my best, my absolute best, has yet to be written. 

How about you?  Do you believe your best has yet to come? 

May Days

Forget December.  Never mind the other ten.  The month of May, hands down, wins the award for the busiest and most memory-making month of the year.

May has had me moving back and forth from the urgent to the important and back again that I have completely neglected this little blog for over a month.

So I thought I'd catch us all up, including myself, on what our little family of four has been up to the past five weeks.

Let's start with softball.  Around here we love ball.  The oldest plays.  The youngest is preparing to play.  Daddy coaches and Mama cheers.  We were fortunate to have had an amazing little team this season.  Our favorite team by far.  It was a joy spending most of this month in the dirt with them. 

Biggest lesson the team learned this season:  Listen to your coach.  Trust him, no matter what.  When he says, "Go", go.  When he says, "Stop", stop.  Such simple instructions for young softball players. Resonates loudly with us adults as well.  Yep. That'll preach.

Next up in May was Mother's Day.  Spent some quality time with my Mama the night before.  A little dinner.  A little shopping.  Some new accessories.  Win-win for all.

Received some super-sweet, heart-felt gifts this year, including a desperately-needed flat iron from my girls and my husband.  So long, frizzy, untamed hair. 

Abandoned the family after church and took off with my friend, Terri, for an atypical, unorthodox way of spending Mother's Day.  Lunch and shopping at the mall.  Just the two of us.  Absolutely loved it.  New tradition?  Maybe. After all, we moms spend the other 364 days of the year with our kiddos, right?

Wrapped up our fifth year teaching AWANA Cubbies at our church.  Such a huge blessing for us to be a part of such a great program and to teach some really precious children.  So proud of our own girls for working so hard memorizing scripture and hiding God's word in their hearts! 

Concerning the adoption, we worked on completing some necessary requirements for the home study portion of this process.  Physicals.  Fingerprinting.  References.  Lots of reading.  Lots of paperwork. We also went to our first adoption support dinner, connected with some new friends, and followed along as a family from our agency was the first to complete an adoption from India.  We rejoice with them as their nearly four-year journey to adopt their daughter has officially and finally come to an end.  You can read some of their story here http://bringingjustice.blogspot.com/.

We had another very, or should I say, "berry" blessed fundraiser.  Following two trips to the local strawberry patch, and after making one batch of homemade jam, my husband suggested we make and sell additional jars of jam to raise funds for the adoption.  We did.

The result:  "Pearl Jam".  Appropriately named for our little Pearl in India.  (I plan to blog about her name and how we came to rest upon it soon, so stay tuned.)  Thanks to so many friends and family, we sold 50 jars of this strawberry goodness.  I'd say "Pearl Jam" was a "jam-up" success!

What would May be without a graduation?  Even though we predominantly homeschooled this year, my youngest also attended Pre-K three mornings a week.  She had a wonderful year and is excited to be home with us full-time in the fall for kindergarten. Congratulations to our little graduate who is growing up way, way too fast!

Another big event this May...Celebrating Little Miss's 5th birthday!

This year it was all about beautiful, fluttering butterflies, so we gathered every thing that had wings and could fly. 

For starters, we ordered ten caterpillars from an online insect company.  We wanted to raise some butterflies, and then release them at the end of the party.  Prior to the party, we got to watch the ten fuzzy, crawly creatures eat their food over a period of a week, climb to the top of their container, change into a chrysalis and another week later, emerge into stunning butterflies. 

Even as many times as I've watched this process take place (when I taught first grade in a public school, and the times I've done it with my own girls here at home), it never fails to blow my mind.  The metamorphosis is indescribable. Creator God takes the greatest of care of every tiny detail in every tiny life.  Off with the old.  Hello to the new.  Two words.  Simply amazing.

Because the caterpillars arrived much earlier than we expected, we faced the tough job of keeping the butterflies alive until the party, which wasn't for another three weeks.  We fed them.  We took care of them.  And since we had moved them into a large butterfly pavilion, we could sit inside and observe them--how they ate, how they fluttered around, and how they interacted with each other (yes, they seemed to get along pretty well, if you know what I mean). 

 And just as we planned, at the end of the birthday party, we let them go. They were able to fly as they were created to do.  Out of the tent and into the world. 

It was happy moment.  But it was also sad.  After caring for these tiny creatures for almost a month, I was glad they were free, spreading their wings and fluttering everywhere. But at the same time, our house suddenly seemed a little lonlier and a little less active.

I couldn't help but think of all the parents whose children just graduated from high school this May and are headed off to explore new places, moving from the constant care they've known and the security they've relied upon.  A season filled with mixed emotions for sure.  A season marked by metamorphosis.

As this fifth month of the year comes to an end, I am choosing to hold on to the fleeting moments with the two little butterflies still reliant upon my care.  I want to watch them grow, change, and prepare themselves for the future God has waiting for them.  And when it's their time, they'll spread their wings and fly.  Just like they are destined to do.

I'll admit, I'm not looking forward to that day.  Not. At. All.  Whether I'm ready for it or not, that day will be here soon enough.  No, instead, I am perfectly content to be living in the midst of these busy, yet memory-making, May days right now.