The Call.

So, this is a thought that has been ruminating in my mind for awhile. I verbalized it to Garth last night and it didn't sound too far out there and so I am sharing it here.

Being called is Biblical. 

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified." -Romans 8:28-30 

I think that our idea is that we might be called to something extra special. But Romans shows us that those who are predestined (believers), are called.

There are certain things that we all must be doing. 

The great commission. 

^"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” -Matthew 28:19-20

Caring for orphans and widows.

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." -James 1:27

When do you get called?

Why do you get called?

In our house "the call" happens when everyone else is in the van and there is a straggler. It is usually Garth or Grace and the reason is that they are either brushing teeth or looking for stockings. (I'll let you guess who is doing what.)

Because there are things that we always do. That are unspoken. I mean, we ALWAYS go to church on Sunday mornings. It isn't a surprise. We just do it. Every. Time. And yet EVERY TIME there are stragglers that need called. It isn't a holy thing that they are called. It is because they aren't where they are supposed to be in the first place.

You see where I am going with this?

Garth was called to adopt, because God needed to get him in the van. But I was already there, putting on lipstick in the rear view mirror and waiting. 

The call has gone out, Dear Reader. You don't have to wait for your personal invitation, it has already arrived.

It's O.K.

This post is a response to all the somber posts about adoption that I have seen floating around to "celebrate" adoption month.

It is ok.

I may lose some friends for saying that, but if others are preaching the "It's NOT ok" I figure I can throw in my two cents.

I am not an expert about adoption. (Let me clear the air about that one.)

Adoption is hard. It comes from loss and unimaginable yuck. And this person, this child, this soul, is pulled through the knot hole of hard and they are changed. Forever.

And, inevitably, bringing such a soul into your life is going to change you.

Forever.

And if that freaks you out, run. But if you can open your heart to the idea that some things don't develop the way that we think that they should, and sometimes that makes them just a little more special. And if you can readjust your idea of what a perfect day is, then get comfy, my friend, because adoption might be for you.

I went on a field trip with my first grader, Claire, a couple of weeks ago and we went to an apple orchard. They had some special apples set aside. This one grew between two branches. It never had the wide open space to develop the way that an apple should.

But if you look at it from another perspective, it has taken the hard and become extra beautiful.

So, when we are going through the hard it is nice to know that our kid isn't the first one to give the bird.  Or play with knives. Or cuss. Or flop in the grocery store. Or stink at school. Or... well, you get the picture. And it has been absolutely a God-send to have wonderful friends come alongside me and tell me "It is normal" and I am so glad that they followed up with "It is ok."

God has never justified the broken. But He has redeemed. In fact, that is His business.

It is important not to dwell on the negative. At least for me. Because there is so much beauty. And when I read these well-meaning, cautionary posts, it drags me down. And makes me feel a little less tolerant of kid behavior. Especially if that kid has an accent. 

So I celebrate the victories. Mourn the loss. And I yearn for the day that God will restore what has been taken. And I pray for those on the other side of Daniel's story.

And I will hold with two hands to the fact that we had an entire week of smooth sailing. Seven full days of good choices. (Even though sometimes we would have to remind him.)

And I will thank God that He hardwired this child of His for a family. And that Daniel loves us and that when asked by a sibling "Did your Mom die?" he took said sibling by the arm, brought them to where I was sitting and said, "No, Mommy is here. You crazy." I will rejoice that my little blue-eyed boy now lavishes affection and seeks positive attention.

(This is a spontaneous picnic that broke out today in the midst of a fierce pirate battle)

And I will hold these truths to me. 

I will not search for trouble. Today has enough of its own.

But I will search for wonder. And happiness. And blessings. And God.

(And I will be VERY THANKFUL that this little boy who rarely saw a tooth brush prior to July has perfect teeth.)

And I will let myself be happy. 

It's ok.

Orphan Sunday

This Sunday is Orphan Sunday.

And it gets me to thinking of The Plight of The Orphan. I have spent a couple of posts advocating for children that I met on my journey, but if any of you know me well, you know that one child sticks with me above all others, and so this post is a Shameless Plug for Sasha Pastov.

Sasha Pastov is Daniel's best friend from the detskiy dom (children's home) who was moved to the internat (boarding school) during our first visit to Ukraine.

Here is a post that I shared on my private facebook group:

"Daniel's best friend was moved to the internat today. This is not a good place for children. Sasha is simple and sweet. When we left on Wednesday Daniel said "dasvadanya" but Sasha said, "Bye, Guys!" Yesterday he and Daniel were trading sunglasses and laughing together. He asked us when he would see us again. Tomorrow, we said. Instead of seeing us he was bundled into a car, driven away from his home with nothing but the clothes on his back, not even his new Fisher Price sunglasses and dropped off. The nanny said he was begging and crying. And that the abuse from the other children had already begun. This is NO LIFE for a child. Pray for Sasha. I am trying to get his information to advocate for him with any waiting child organizations. Sasha needs a home. " - June 21

We have been getting updates here and there through our facilitator. Unfortunately the internat is every bit as bad as we thought. Maybe worse. He is asking for a family. Asking to be moved back to the detskiy dom. 

And, so far, no one has heard him.

You see, Sasha has many things going against him. He is HIV positive. He has mental delays, probably due to fetal alcohol syndrome. He is 11. And as far as adopting goes, the first two categories don't knock him out, because there are families out there fearlessly and prayerfully embracing children with these struggles, but being over the age of ten kind of does knock him out. Not because people don't adopt older children. Because they do. But, you see, he has a combination. A perfect storm. Children that are over the age of ten who are HIV positive have to undergo special tuberculosis testing due to CDC (that is right, OUR CDC) regulations. The children have to have a chest x-ray, a skin test and a sputum test. And they have to wait for the culture to come back. And that adds around EIGHT weeks IN COUNTRY to the process of adopting him. Until those cultures come back clear, the US won't issue a visa. 

Now, I know. We can argue about why this is super unfair. And there is nothing that you could say that I wouldn't agree with. But it is what it is.

And for Sasha, unless God moves someone mightily and SOON, this is a guarantee that he will most likely not be picked.

And I grapple with why some children get families and others don't. I read the story of the boy in Florida who said that he had lost weight and would try his best if he could only have a family and he would take anyone. Kids shouldn't have to worry about being cute enough, or smart enough. They should have a family. Period.

So this Orphan Sunday, please pray for the orphans. Like the boy in Florida showed, there are children who need families everywhere. 

Please pray for Sasha.

Because even though circumstances might be against him, God is FOR HIM. And even though the world may not hear him, God does.

And share this post. 

It may save a life.

A Picture (or two) Worth a Thousand Words

Young women will dance and be happy,

    young men and old men will join in.

I’ll convert their weeping into laughter,

    lavishing comfort, invading their grief with joy.

Jeremiah 31:13 (The Message)

The picture on the left was taken at the medical center on July 29, 2013. The one on the right was taken today, October 22, 2013, at home. Twelve weeks between the two of them. Six thousand miles. A world of confidence. A cracking of the shell. A new child.

God knows that this was exactly what I needed to see today. To realize how far we have come. To count how short a time it has happened in. God opened my eyes to these pictures today to encourage me. To see that this matters. And even though I kind of choke on some of the adoption talk, I mean, who are we to redeem? I have always felt that was presumptuous, only God redeems. But you know what? God grants us the grace to partner with HIM in HIS work. Yes, even the work of redemption. And this, Dear Readers, THIS is the face of redemption. A redemption you are taking part in through your prayers and words of support and sense of humor.

May these pictures bless you today, like they have me.

Better and Better

At first this new life seemed ruined. Everything that we were was in upheaval. We were in survival mode. There are days that we don't do what we used to.

When we first thought about adopting an older child we had the thought that we really didn't want a baby because we didn't want to start the clock over. But adoption is starting the clock over, in a sense. But you have to work harder. Old habits to unlearn. New options to be explored. Such an adventure. And a shorter time to do it in.

As you know from past posts, we have really struggled with Daniel's school situation. Right now he is going partial days, which really has been a positive step for him. He is much less stressed. Much more centered. The hard part is for ME. I had been mentally gearing up to have the day to myself to get things done. But instead, I have about two hours by the time my running is done. And then I have a curious, discovering, exploring little sponge with me for the rest of the day. Who barges in while I am going to the bathroom to show me whatever thing he has figured out.

I have had to reconfigure my expectations. I had to gain the perspective (and am still working on it) that I have poured into each of my children. Years at home with Mama. Hours spent at story time. Days whiled away walking through the mall or the zoo. Even my big exchange student boys, Pedro and João, hours spent talking about everything and nothing. I have decided that I need to pour into Daniel too. Hours spent watching Lilo and Stitch. Going to Walmart. Reading books. That I must sow if I ever hope to reap.

And so, I sow. And I water. And we laugh. And he tells me that he is Daddy's baby. And the brown-eyed ones are starting to love him, not just put up with him, not just feel sorry for him. But accept him. He calls Gracie "Monster" last night. So she calls him "Booger." And they all laugh about it. And they hug him and he prays for them.

And slowly but surely the seeds are sprouting and we continue to sow and water and laugh. Because what else can you do when things go sour and you respond to being beat with a balloon by popping said balloon like a fiend?

I was reminded of the line in the song, "You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of us."

Nothing More Than Feelings

I was re-reading past entries today and it struck me what a roller coaster that this all has been.

The "should we or shouldn't we" stage where we considered what it would consist of for us to adopt. Period. Learning about possible special needs and how it would be to live with them. How overwhelming those seemed.

The waiting. The busting hump to get paperwork finished, sealed, sent. Worrying if it would be approved.

The advice. Well-meaning. Annoying when you don't want to hear it. Coming from a variety of sources. Tuning my ears to hear The Truth. I am a positive person. A can-do person, so I tried to gather a good support group of a few people who were the same way. They have been my sanity. There are a lot of people who seem to relish negative drama. And are bursting at the seams to share that with you. I had to come to a place where I could distance myself from that kind of negativity. I literally met a woman who told me that adoption was the hardest thing that she had ever done and that she never thought that she would want to kill a child, but that was how she felt every night when she would tuck her adopted son into bed. I was horrified and couldn't imagine feeling that way. Ever. And you know what? I haven't.

The traveling. So wonderful. So difficult. Because not only was I away from my comfort zone, but I was doing something decidedly difficult. So blessed with new friends, who I now miss.

The homecoming. The "Oh no! What have we done? Will things ever be good again?"

The becoming. The becoming of a family. The becoming of a child from a survivor to a thriver. The cost that this process exacts from all who come in contact. The rewards it brings.

And throughout all of this The Emotions. The thrill. The anguish. The faith. The laughter. The tears. This, Dear Readers, is LIFE. The "more abundant" kind.

Here is to a great week. A week of more highs than lows. A week to grow in confidence. A week to listen to the Holy Spirit's guidance. A week to fight the demons. And a week to love.

Amen.

You've Got Your Problems, I've Got Mine

School is our Waterloo.

I mean, all these pieces are just falling into place crazy good when it comes to....well, ANYWHERE but school. 

I have a decent amount of frustration with the situation, but I am not one to spread tales via a platform that anyone in the world can see, because I understand we are all learning and so I will give them grace. Even though a tantrum might be more satisfying. 

One thing I have noticed about the professionals, they are quick to overlook what the experts have to say. I mean, you can go to school until you have enough initials after your name that it looks like the periodic table of elements and that makes you a professional, but you are not the expert on someone else's life and situation. They are. 

I can say that I am the expert on what Daniel is like, so when people who see one aspect of him throw theories around, it bugs me. Well, it more than bugs me, but I am trying to take the high road. 

And you know what I realized tonight? We all have a back story. Very few people have optimum circumstances. Everyone is screwed up about something. So back off. Back off the judgements. Back off the gossiping. Back off the prejudice. 

Back off my son. 

Because, let's be honest, he probably has a better reason for his behavior than you do. 

And he is moving on. Working through things. Living his life, like it was dealt. 

I kept him home today and it was bliss.

So there.