Author: abs1745

Uncategorized

This is my story

abs1745

I’m not a big fan of writing… never have been.  I hated writing projects when I was in school – it was pure torture. My sister, she’s a writer. My brother, he’s a dreamer.  Me, I’m just a girl… with a heart full of songs.  {I’m not a singer either.}

When my world got flipped upside down I had to start writing.  It was a way for me to process all the thoughts and emotions swirling inside of me.  It was also a way for me to share with others who wanted to be a part of what God is doing in our lives… so I started this storyofagirl.  I didn’t start it with a stated mission, a plan or even a goal.  I pretty much started it out of desperation and as a cry for help.  As it has evolved, I am so grateful that I have one place where I can return and remember all the incredible things God has done in my story over the past 19 months.

But this part of my story doesn’t define me… it has undeniably refined me… but I feel the stirring in my heart that there will be more.

As I entered into worship yesterday an old familiar tune filled the air

This is my story, this is my song; praising my savior all the day long…

– Blessed Assurance, Frances Crosby

I sang all the words to this beautiful song and felt the longing in my heart that this is what my story is really all about.  At the end of this life, at the end of this season, at the end of it all, I want my story to be known that “she loved Jesus”.

How that manifests itself in my life each day will be different.  Right now, it looks like a crazy girl that said yes to God’s invitation to make a difference in the lives of 3 little girls.  I’m hopeful that one-day-soon it will include adoption and a sense of forever.  I have to continue holding that hope with an open hand and believing that even if it all falls apart, my story and song will still be praise.

Last week I spent time reflecting on this season of my life.  It has undoubtedly been one of the hardest things I’ve ever faced but it has also been filled with more growth, more depth and more dependence than I’ve ever known.

I pondered the question, “What has God been for me in my current circumstance that he could not be in my previous circumstances?”     My answer is HOPE.  It has been a journey of uncovering, undoing and discovering what it truly means to say my hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.  

Believing as the Psalmist wrote “I will not fear, even though the earth gives way and the mountains quake… for He says “Be still and know I am God”.” (Psalm 46)

Or as Abraham, against all hope, in hope believed…without wavering through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in faith and gave glory to God. (Romans 4)

These are the things I hold on to.  These are the reminders that my hope cannot be in the outcome, it has to be in the truth that no matter what comes, He is good.  Then I can trust that my heart is safe.

Friends, next week is a big week. People are planning and preparing to fight for the safety of our girls.  In some ways it’s just a formality but in other ways it’s a major hurdle.  There is still this sense of risk and uncertainty.  Please consider praying for us, for the legal team and all who are involved in our case.  Pray for divine wisdom, discernment and truth to be revealed… and ultimately for God’s purposes to be known.

I have lived enough to know that God allows in His wisdom what He could easily prevent by His power.  So I must trust that even if things don’t go as I want, His purposes are greater than mine.

As I read this, it seems like I’m giving myself a pep-talk in preparation for what’s to come.  I’ll probably have to revisit this a lot over the next 10 days, and longer as we wait for answers.

Thank you for your love. Thank you for your prayers. Thank you for the ways you walk through life with us and laugh with us and laugh at us. 🙂  Who would have ever thought we’d be here?

 

Uncategorized

Sweet Moses… I feel your pain!

abs1745

I am sitting here laughing at myself.  This is drastically different than one hour ago when I was crying for myself.  Sitting in my car, outside of Panera Bread ugly crying and trying to talk through the cries with my mom on the other end of the phone.  I am the definition of a hot mess.

On Saturday I made some suave move that resulted in pinching something in my lower back that rendered me incapacitated for 2 days.  Two days I tell you!  I could not stand straight, I could not lay straight, I could not bend over, I could not lift Baby Girl…I was broken.  And of course, this happened on a Saturday and my chiropractor is so wise that he hasn’t given me his cell-phone number or home address because trust me… I would have abused that information if I had it.

I woke up this morning with continued pain, an hour early after a full night’s sleep, blissfully aware that I could get my “fix” and move into a peaceful day of prayer, find Jesus and live happily ever after.

I’ll spare you the ugly details but hell happened and I was attacked by a 4-yr old. I wish I could spare my own ugliness, but then you wouldn’t know why I cry.  As much as I tried to practice “loving my kids on purpose” offering choices and grace… I didn’t.  That grace ran out fast and I fell into the spiral of the tantrum that left me wondering if I’m doing any better than the last people.  {No children were hurt in the making of this story.}  But I was undone.

We pulled it together, said our sorrys and gave make-up kisses.  We will try again…. love will win.  I went on to the chiropractor, broken and discouraged.  As I laid on the table and he tried to make the needed adjustments my spine wouldn’t budge.  Abby, you’re carrying a lot of stress… and it is going through your whole system.  Really?  I hadn’t noticed.  What could I possibly be stressed about?

Geeze Louise!  I’ve been looking for a house that can accommodate our growing family (no, I’m not pregnant) and trying to determine how in the world we will ever afford daycare for 3 kids, raising 3 kids and buying something in an area that costs more than I ever imagined.  I’ve been crunching numbers, biting nails and breaking my back trying to bend over and figure this stuff out.  Why would I possibly be stressed?

So I enter Panera Bread for a coffee date with Jesus.  Tears still sneaking their way out of my eyes.  I open my Bible and my study, read the words on the page and ask Jesus, what do you want to say to me right now?  I am broken, I am discouraged and I am wondering what in the world you have to say about it.

My yoke is easy and my burden is light…

Well, that’s what he has to say about it.  His yoke is easy, his burden is light; whatever I am carrying is not from him.  This stress, this weight, this wondering is not from him.  His promise is that he is faithful, he is good and he will not weigh me down.

So I go to one of my favorite passages of scripture, Exodus 33 and for the first time I realize, Moses is pretty much pitching a fit with God.  Seriously, listen to this:

12-13 Moses said to God, “Look, you tell me, ‘Lead this people,’ but you don’t let me know whom you’re going to send with me. You tell me, ‘I know you well and you are special to me.’ If I am so special to you, let me in on your plans. That way, I will continue being special to you. Don’t forget, this is your people, your responsibility.”  (MSG)

Oh my goodness… I’m pretty sure you could write my same story in the Bible.  I sound just like that!   “Listen, these are your kids God, what’s your plan?  How in the world am I supposed to believe we’re all gonna survive this?  I mean, I know I’m your favorite, but it sure doesn’t feel like it right now.  Seriously God, I need to know how this works out.”

And that’s when I get to start laughing at my 30 something year old temper tantrum self.  I see my story in the Bible… and I see what God has to say about it.

14 God said, “My presence will go with you. I’ll see the journey to the end.” (MSG)

If you don’t believe God still speaks, you probably need to exit this tour right now.  Friends, God continually meets me.  When I stop, settle my heart and invite him to show me his heart for me, ask him how he feels about me and what he’s up to… he.shows.up.  Time and time again.  And I can trust that he always will.

Now, he didn’t give quite the specifics I was looking for, like “go here, you will find a package of money taped under a bench and the person next to it will buy your house without you even cleaning it first”…. but he does say “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest….. you are special to me and I know you by name.”

That’s enough for me. Seriously, he’s always enough. It just takes me a minute to get there sometimes.

Oh yeah… and it’s national margarita day… if that doesn’t have my name all over it I don’t know what does. 🙂

 

Love Does, Uncategorized

Mama said there’d be days like this

abs1745

I always knew parenting would be hard. That’s why I decided a long time ago I probably shouldn’t be one.  I’m a cautious person by nature.  I don’t get into things that I don’t know I can do well.  I don’t put myself at risk of failure or even situations that might cause pain.  But God puts me there, time and time again.

When I went to my first foster parent information meeting 4 years ago,  I seriously thought they would send a kid home with me that night.  Then they began talking about the realities of foster parenting, the brokenness, the pain of walking with families and I freaked out.  It took two years before I even stepped foot in another informational meeting.  I knew I would never be ready for this.

My sweet girls have experienced more pain before their 3rd birthday than I have experienced in more than 30.  When I stop and look at them through the lens of their story, my heart aches.  My eyes fill with tears when I imagine what it must be like at 2 years old to be pulled from the only love you know, even when what you know is not safe. Or at 4 years old to make up stories for why I haven’t seen my first mommy and daddy in so long.  Surely, something must have happened to them.

We walk a fine line.  How much do you tell them?  What do we say when they ask?  What’s appropriate for them to know?  Surely there are question marks in their mind, pieces of the puzzle that just don’t fit together.  They’re old enough to know this isn’t the way it was supposed to be.

Everything in me trembles when I think of one year, five years, ten years down the road and I don’t have answers for the deep wonderings they carry.  I had a hard enough time yesterday just holding her while she cried with the pain and disappointment of a consequence I had to enforce.  My heart cried too.  It was the first time I could understand that old saying “it hurts me more than it hurts you”.

She made a bad choice.  We had talked on the way to school about our day, prayed that we could be fun with friends and nice to our teachers because after all, today is a gymnastics day.  But things didn’t go so well… spit was involved… and a teacher’s face… and well, there’s more in between but the facts aren’t important.  The bottom line is, I had to say no to the most favorite thing in our week, gymnastics.

I held her as she cried.  The kind of cry I imagine someone cries when something you love has died.  I softly spoke to her how sorry I was that we couldn’t go, that we would try again tomorrow and the next day.  We talked through what happened, what was she feeling, what were her choices and what could she do differently the next time she feels that way?  In the back of my mind I imagined this same child in my arms and future talks about rejection and love and that her value is not based on someone’s opinions or actions but on who God says she is.  And it hit me…. parenting is way hard.

I read a devotional earlier this week with the story of David, a young shepherd boy who was anointed as king.  The prophet Samuel came to the house of Jesse where he had lined up all of his sons, except David.  Surely the king would be one of the other sons, not David – he was the last born, the least qualified.  But God saw something in David.

But the Lord said to Samuel,  Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. – 1 Samuel 16:6-7

Clearly, God’s ways are not our ways. He’s not looking for obvious external qualifications. God looks at the heart.

I am often overwhelmed with the place God has called me.  This mother thing is not something I saw in me.  There are moments when I cannot take all the cuteness of my life and I feel so undeserving.  Then there are moments when I think I am going to break under the weight of the pain and I feel so unqualified.  There are little hearts at stake here, God….

I know I may not always get it right.  I have been spit at and slapped more times than I ever imagined I would in this life.  Parenting has a lot more poop and pain than I could have anticipated.  But here I stand, in the middle of the messiness, in the good days and the bad days and I thank God that he saw something in me.

Abby_Daniel_Family_CampHelen-20

 

 

 

Love Does, Uncategorized

Dreaming Big

abs1745

We made it. 2015 is finished. Let’s wrap that up and put it behind us.  I remember starting the year with such excitement and anticipation for what it would hold.  I was exhausted, overwhelmed and hoping that things would get easier… which they did.  I was grappling with the question if we were really open to adoption, sorting through the unknowns of a termination process and all that entails.  I was a little bit brave, alotta bit naive and every bit trusting that God had a plan.

At the first of the year as I was looking at this picture… New YearI sensed the Lord say to me, “this is the year I will build your family tree.” 

If you know me well… I anticipated my family “tree” being small, skinny, with two little branches, no fruit and a lot of dogs around it.  We entered into foster-care with no intentions of adopting.  We said it over-and-again – we’re not trying to adopt.  Remember, I need control!  {Insert God laughing here}

But God gave me this picture and those words, building my family tree… and I looked at it over and over through the year.  This was my word.

As we navigated the TPR process and waited for an outcome the ups and downs were almost unbearable.  Maybe, just maybe, God gave me this picture to get me through the highs and lows?  Maybe, just maybe, he knows what he’s doing.

I wish I walked prettier than I do.  I wish I stood tall, confident and unwavering in the process … but it was all too much.  It took me a good 2 more months of the Lord softening my heart to get to a confident yes, we can do this and live to tell about it. Then we started all the court dates, the waiting, the court dates, more waiting, the bumps, the bruises and did I ever mention waiting?  And this girl, this girl wobbled.  I fumbled. I probably laid down and cried a few times, pitching a fit when I didn’t get my way or my timing.  I look back at 2015 and it doesn’t feel pretty.

But you guys, man, you guys – you picked me up.  I cannot count the number of times your prayers, your words, your hope brought me to the feet of Jesus.  We couldn’t have made it through the year without you.  Thank you friends, you’ve loved us well.

There are so many things to celebrate about 2015:

  • a sweet girl learned to walk, run, talk and play peek-a-boo like a pro
  • 2 sweet girls learned to ride bikes, swim and are full of giggles as they learn to drive their Jeep {Lord help us all}
  • Mommy and Daddy have learned how to keep little people alive for 365 consecutive days
  • We’re still learning how to cook
  • Twins had their first Auburn game
  • We had our first family vacation  {which was a little premature.  Mommy underestimated how exhausting it would be to travel with 3 little people for a week}
  • We lost our beloved dog…..  then we found our beloved dog.
  • Daddy went to England for 3 weeks…. mommy almost killed daddy when he came home
  • The girls went to their first Peanut Festival
  • We bought a piece of paradise… and we’re just gonna sit there in our chairs because it cost too much to build on it 😉
  • We ate a lot of pizza, ice-cream and jelly beans
  • We drank a lot of coffee… and liquor… and juice of course

Life is full.  God is faithful.  We are grateful!

Throughout the year as I kept the family tree word in the back of my mind I began to wonder if it would ever happen.   In December when we hit a new hurdle and realized adoption would not be happening this year I questioned if God sees me, hears my prayers or if I’m just crazy.  I gave up hope in that word, that this would be the year.  It couldn’t be the year, not as I saw it.

But as I stand in a fresh year, looking back at the hard things of 2015, I realize – God has been strengthening our roots.  That tree you see in the picture above, it didn’t grow overnight… it has undoubtedly wavered many storms, holding fast through hurricanes, heavy winds and downpours.  He’s given us enough sunshine in the happy days, the progress, the normal life moments we’ve reached – and he has given us grace in the storms, mercy in the mistakes, hope in the waves – and we are stronger.

On Monday I received the best news ever.  A piece of our case that has been in waiting for 6 months was just closed.  Tears fell from my eyes as I read the text and realized the relief of having that open-end closed for good.  And when I asked for “proof” because I wanted to read it for myself, I saw the date of the court order was 12.31.15.

You sneaky God!

So we enter 2016 with more hope, stronger roots, ready hearts and hopefully some patience.  We still have another major hurdle to cross in March.  We won’t have anything certain before then.  But this girl, I’m feeling a little bit taller, a bit stronger and a little bit more confident….  I have an idea who wins.   #lovedoes

Abby_Daniel_Family_CampHelen-34

 

 

 

Uncategorized

A Weary World Rejoices

abs1745

One of my all time favorite Christmas songs is Oh Holy Night.  The words, the build-up, the music itself – it goes right to my heart.  I’ve been fond of it even since I was small.

As a child, I couldn’t have comprehended the holiness of that night.  The Bible stories as told to children tend to focus on the pomp and circumstance, the manger, the star… that inn-keeper that said he had no room.  Those are the details I remember.

Many years later in my wise-old-age I hear these words over and again in my head…

The weary world rejoices…

It has only been in the past few years and even more so now that I can understand the weariness of this world.  A world so broken, pain filled and craving a hope that there must be more.

In this year we’ve walked through our own story that at times felt like a valley.  We’ve seen friends walk through loss that I cannot even imagine.

My heart has broken in many pieces as I’ve watched a close childhood family lose their father, husband, grandfather, friend.  And just this week as another close family has lost their wife, mother, caregiver, angel.  Mothers and fathers that have buried children.  Marriages have come to surprising ends.

I find myself feeling a heaviness this Christmas, the weight of grief for those who would give anything for one more day, one more touch, one more hug or just one more chance.

I’ve spent much of my life doing anything I can to avoid pain, not just my own but others’ as well.  But I’ve been invited to be fully human, experiencing the pain and loss that life holds.  As I’ve allowed myself to enter pain and walk with others I find my prayer more and more being, Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel.   Lord be present, Lord be comfort, Lord be peace in the midst of these broken dreams and loss of life.

Friends, I have been humbled as you have walked with us through our story of foster and adoption, the ups and downs of our life.  I want you to know that I consider it a privilege to be a part of your lives as well.  I pray earnestly for peace and comfort for those of you that have an empty seat this year at Christmas, those that this is not your first Christmas following loss but your heart hurts no less.  My eyes have filled with tears many times as I have considered your stories, the courage you carry, the grief you’ve walked through and continue to embrace.  May the Lord bless you and keep you, may you experience his peace that is beyond our comprehension.  And remember…

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

As we celebrate the season of Advent and the fulfillment of hope on Christmas Day let us remember it doesn’t end there.  May we remain in wondrous anticipation of the day when all tears are wiped away and the weary world rejoices, once and for all.

My Story, Uncategorized

It’s gonna be worth it

abs1745

Hope came alive your very first cry…
-lyrics by Nate Kelly

There’s this story, you might have heard it, about a world in despair. Hopeless. Waiting. Wondering if the words spoken would ever be fulfilled.  Then one night in Bethlehem a child was born and the hopelessness lifted.  “Hope came alive your very first cry… on Christmas Day”.  This was the one they had waited for.  Hope for every man.

Sitting in church on Sunday I heard this song of a friend and this one line put perspective back in my heart.  How long had they waited for the fulfillment of this prophecy?  How many generations hoped they would see the Messiah? How many times did they wonder “did we really hear him?”?

My waiting… my wondering… the tension I live in every day… it pales in comparison.

But let’s be honest here.  I live on the good side of that Christmas story – the retelling side.  I live right smack in the middle of my story – the wondering side.

I’m writing this post mostly for my mom… and for all of you whom she has frantically emailed for prayer support.  Good news, I haven’t jumped ship.  I’m still here and I still know there’s a God.

The past 10 days have been an emotional roller coaster.  Nothing about roller-coasters is fun to me. Somewhere in the past 6 months I allowed myself to really hope this adoption thing could happen this year.  Last week we received news of a new road-block that will prolong us even more than what we were already facing.  It was a blow to the heart.

As I briefly shared the news with my family I followed it with… I’m probably not going to answer my phone.  I had to shut down. I couldn’t think about it, I couldn’t talk about it, I was trying to do everything I could to keep from that ugly cry.  I was devastated.

There are things about it that felt threatening to our hope for sure.  But I’m realizing what was most painful for me in the moment was the disappointment. Letting go of the hope that finalization could be soon… that broke my heart.  Recognizing that finalization isn’t even guaranteed – well – we’ll see what God has to say about that.

Thank you to all of you who have sent messages, written notes, checked on us and prayed for our hearts.  There are points that I clearly recognize I am standing purely by the grace of God and your support.

So to tell you how my heart is… it’s pressed but not crushed… perplexed but not abandoned… it’s holding on to hope and truth and driven by love.  I am humbled by the support of those around us and those we don’t even know are praying.  I cried today just thinking about the sweet load of gifts that were given for baby girl, just out of the kindness and generosity of a stranger that “adopted” our angel from a tree.

We do not battle alone. Thank you for fighting with us and for us.

Where am I in processing the disappointment and the delay?  Well, I can’t help but wonder what God is up to in this story.  Where things seem like he could easily move on our behalf, it’s not moving quite so easily.  I have to ask, “what is it you want to be for me right now?”

I regret some of the questions I’ve asked in the past week… the honest, gut-level questions that make my mom wonder if I’m in a crisis of faith.  (I’m not.)  I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s pulled out her rosary and lit some candles 😉

I think what the enemy has meant for harm, to bring us down, to shake us… will actually strengthen our stand, solidify our hope and secure our trust.  Yes, there are moments that I don’t feel or sound strong… but as I wrestle through my questions and choose to believe, I’m getting stronger.

One day, I know I will see the beauty in this journey.  The glory in the pain.  Right now, I just feel exposed.  I feel like I’ve put my whole heart into something that I have no control over the outcome and it gets hit with arrows on a regular basis.  I guess that’s the risk you take when you choose to live whole-heartedly.  I can’t say it’s fun… but I will say it’s worth it.

To those of you that are holding on to a word, a dream or a promise, I’m right there with you.   One thing I recently heard from a teacher on living in God’s promises that has given me courage is:  “do not let your circumstances challenge the prophecy when the prophecy was given to challenge your circumstances”. 

Don’t give up.  There will be songs of joy.  Maybe some wise-men will even show up with gifts.  This waiting, this wondering, this hoping… it’s gonna be worth it.

Uncategorized

Hostage Negotiations and life with 4 yr olds (x2)

abs1745

I am convinced that any parent(s) who survive raising twins should receive something like a PhD in life.  I can’t say I’ve earned it yet but I feel like the experience I’m getting should qualify for something extraordinary.

The bottom line is, I have become the queen of negotiating.  Pretty soon, I will have the confidence to talk down a hostage situation, or someone on the ledge… as long as I can get in touch with what really drives them.

Daniel and I are children of a spanking generation.  I’m not saying that was good or bad but we’re pretty pleased with how we turned out.  When you’re parenting children from hard places, that aren’t your own and that have experienced trauma in their life – spanking isn’t the best way to motivate.

Our very dear friend who happens to be an elementary school counselor explained to me one night that we have to have a currency.  I have been frustrated at times because it seems that all of my best intentions have failed, they just don’t listen and obey.  But JA explained that we have to find the currency that motivates them.

Well friends… here is what I have found.  The motivating factors for 2 little 4 yr olds are:  1. candy  2. Peppa Pig   3. Vacation   4. McDonalds

This is how things go down in our house:
Me – I have already told you to stop doing that. If I have to say it again, I’m going to eat a piece of your Halloween candy.
Twin – but mommy, you don’t like chocolate
Me – I know.  This hurts me more than it hurts you.

Score one for the parental team.  I have faithfully consumed a bucket of Halloween candy against my will.

trickortreat2
These girls worked hard for the candy

Mommy’s currency is, 1. Peace  2. Quiet  3. Sleep.  If anyone can promise and deliver on these three things, I will give them whatever they want.

Last night for example, they were too excited to go to bed. I was too tired to fight any more battles.  On my 3rd trip to their room, I threw out all the stops.  If you cry again, we will never watch Peppa Pig again… ever… no more Peppa.   And if I hear one more sound from this room… I’m canceling vacation and eating all your candy.  Mommy is sleepy. Please let me go! 

Dear girls, I am sorry for all the things I say when I am tired. I do love you very much.  I love you more when you are sleeping. 🙂

So, we didn’t cancel vacation.  We’re headed out for a week of little adventures kicking it off with the girls’ first Auburn game.  At 3:20 am a little voice called me from her room.  I went in to see what she needs. “I just wanted to give you a hug and a kiss mommy.  Is it wake up time yet?  Is it vacation day?”  No dear, it is not wake up time. I will come get you when it is.    30 minutes later…  “Mommy, is it wake up time yet?”

This is just too exciting!  I know you aren’t supposed to share on social media if you’re going out of town or anything.  I’m going to trust that none of you will break into our home while we’re away.  Just in case you are considering it… be warned:
1. We have an alarm system
2. The house is booby-trapped.  Think Home Alone and a war on mice.
3. We live in a retirement community with very nosy neighbors.  Our homeowner’s association will fine you faster than the police will get here. Park on the grass…I double dare you.
4.  The only thing you will find in our home is a sea of pink toys. It’s seriously not worth your time.
5.  There are germs. For real.

Earlier this week I got the dreaded call from daycare.  “Abby, this is Beth, did you know that hand-foot-and-mouth is going around Baby Girl’s class again?  She has a couple of bumps, I think you might need to come get her.”  This is not possible.  We have Jesus. We use oils. We haven’t been around any cows.

Speaking of cows… I may have the only girls in the world that will be disappointed one day when they meet a cow and it doesn’t actually say “eat more chicken” to their face.  I’ve almost convinced them that’s what cows say.

And about Jesus. I’m not saying anyone that has had hand-foot-and-mouth doesn’t have Jesus… I’m just saying that there are a few things I am specifically trusting him for, and this is one of them.  And the oils… they better work.

Good news, I think we dodged a bullet.  Baby girl is good for now.  Put a little oil on those bumps and they were gone in no-time.  I’m not saying she did or didn’t have it… there’s no proof one way or the other.  Thank you Jesus for saving us.

Oh and lastly, while I’m sharing about germs and adventures in parenting.  Have you ever been to chick-fil-a when things go wrong in the kiddy-play?  We’re averaging about 3 for 4 with the “somebody peed in the slide” moments now.  Fortunately, at this point we haven’t been the “one” but we’ve seen it enough to know the drill.  There’s pretty much a hazmat team that comes in with masks and stuff, shuts down the playground and carefully removes all evidence and aftermath of the accident.  But just in case the sign on the door and the hazmat team aren’t enough notice… my girls will always be there to alert any new person walking in, or any child attempting to make their way into playland.  “Somebody PEED on the Slide!”  announcements are made over-and-over-and-over again.  It’s almost more embarrassing than actually doing it.  (By the way, there’s no shame… mommy, it is not your fault… keep your head up… it could happen to any of us.)

Ok. Time to wrap things up.  I just wanted to share some of our lighter moments with you – so you would know our life isn’t all battles and tears.  We’re loving almost every minute of it.

As we move into the week of Thanksgiving, I can’t help but remember this time last year, preparing our hearts for the girls to leave us before Christmas.  My how things have changed, and how quickly they did.  Even though our waiting seems long and our hearts are ready for finalization, I’m learning to live each day and trust God for the timing.  Thank you friends for your love, support and prayers.  We hope that our story gives you hope, courage and a glimpse of God…and if nothing else, something to laugh at every now and then.

Much love to you all!

 

My Story

The Battle… is real

abs1745

flowergirls

Trouble surrounds me, chaos abounding; My soul will rest in you.
I will not fear the war. I will not fear the storm. My help is on the way, my help is on the way.
(Always, Kristian Stanfill)

I wish there was a pretty way to say this, but there isn’t.  The battle is real and friends, we.are.in.it.

This isn’t a fun post to write.  I’ve wrestled for a week with how to share in an authentic way, baring our scars, sharing our wounds, showing our fears yet claiming the truth.

It hit me last weekend, late in the night as I was sitting in the emergency room for the second time in as many weeks.  Daniel brought me a “bug-out” bag with toiletries and change of clothes since I had just found out Prissy was being transported to another hospital for observation and such.  It had been a long day and an even longer night.  He held her hand beside the hospital bed and I just looked with tear filled eyes and said, I’m really tired of being under attack.

It was the first time we had acknowledged it but it felt like saying it out loud brought a bit of freedom.  This can’t be normal life.  There are too many pressures, too many pains, too many surprises to think this is normal.  Or maybe, the battle is our new normal?

I remember waking up on Monday morning and thinking, I cannot be an adult today. seriously, can someone else be an adult for me. I just want to go back to my parents’ house, curl up in my bed and pretend like I’m not an adult.

My honest, gut level response to attack is to evaluate what we’ve done to set us up, drop it and pull back, bringing relief from the enemy.    Is it fostering?  Is it adopting?  Is it Wellspring? What do I need to do to get relief, fast?

Well, I’m sure it’s any one or all of these things… but each of these are where we believe the Lord has called us and each of these are worth fighting for.  What’s a girl to do?

Look for Jesus.

Two months ago I sensed the Lord say to me, You will not be shaken.  That’s always fun to hear.  Why would he say that? Why would I need to hear that?  Probably because I would be faced with attack that over three weeks would make me feel like many things were failing, that he was not seeing and that I am alone on a battlefield.  In the midst of the battle, I need to remember his words; and despite what life feels like, I can know that we will not be shaken.

There have been many people over the past month that have loved me well, engaged my heart and the painful things that I couldn’t understand.  Many have prayed as we’ve invited them and I feel like we’re coming up for air. What I want to share is two-fold.

First, I invite you to pray with us.  We need you guys to continue praying that God would give us strength, grace and perseverance every day.  Secondly, I want to share some of the things I’ve learned so that as you walk through your own battles, maybe you can find hope.

One of our pastors shared last week in the sermon series “Battle Lines” about being under attack.  I wasn’t able to attend but I was able to watch it later in the week.  It had a powerful impact for me and I want to share some of the key points.  I hope this is legal…

Some of you are in the fight of your life – the hour of darkness – and considering exchanging the most precious things in your life for things that will alleviate the spiritual attack…  don’t make concessions.

It is easy in the midst of a battle to want relief, to feel weary and wish you could give up.  Don’t make concessions.

I am reminded of the scriptures in Isaiah God gave us at the beginning of this journey with the girls, So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.  Isaiah 41:10

The battle is in believing God is for me, that he is with me…. it’s not for the breakthrough… it’s for the believing. 

In one of my struggles I entered some significant disappointment that made me question if God even sees me.  If what I’m praying for, believing for, hoping for doesn’t happen  –   what does that say about me?  Am I worth it to God?  Have I done something to deserve this?  Is God even there?

There are many things I will never understand this side of heaven.  I can’t even begin to list some of those questions. But one thing I’ve learned is that I have often confused having hope in God with having hope in an outcome.  Once I shift my hope to believe that no matter the outcome, God’s heart towards me is good, I can rest in his promises.

The tactic of the enemy is to go after your relationship with God.  Yes, he uses all the things around you that you love and hold dear, but ultimately, he wants us to question if God is who he says he is.

In the sermon he went on to challenge me to “Look beyond the hour”.

“The hour of darkness is not meant to prove us but is meant to reveal Jesus.”

There’s really not much I can do about the attack, but I have full control over how I respond.  My hearts desire is that my response to the disappointment, the pain and even if one day I experience suffering, that it reveals Jesus.

John 12:27 in the Message says: “Right now I am storm-tossed.  And what am I going to say? ‘Father, get me out of this’?      No, this is why I came in the first place.  I’ll say, ‘Father, put your glory on display.'”

Friends, October was not fun. I feel storm-tossed. We’re a bit weary. But Lord willing, we’re still standing!  I don’t think you could find a happier girl to see the month of November begin.  As I sit and reflect on the things that have felt hard, I cannot help but be thankful for God’s grace, for your faithfulness to pray and all the many ways I can see he is fighting for me.

Hope is rising like the light of dawn.

There’s too much at stake.  The battle is real. But it’s worth fighting.

To hear Pastor Jeremy’s sermon, feel free to watch “The Hour of Darkness” at this link http://www.destinyworshipcenter.com/battle-lines-series/

Uncategorized

Where were you God?

abs1745

Some days, it’s hard to breathe.  It might be from the pressure of it all, or it might be from the moments that just take my breath away.

I have so many thoughts swirling in my head, I don’t know if I can make sense of them.  There’s this ache in the waiting, the wondering, the longing for things to be settled.  There’s the uncertainty in the timing.  Then there’s the peace that we hold on to, knowing who is in control – then I can breathe again.

As we uncovered a deeper layer of the trauma our girls have lived through, my heart was broken as I imagined these innocent babies caught in an unimaginable scenario.  My babies.  I couldn’t help but wonder, God, where were you?

It’s hard not to question God when you hear these stories and others of the lives these children have lived.  I know God is sovereign, but it seems so hard to swallow the pain.  Then I ask myself, where were you?

I was probably sitting comfortably in my clean home, with a nice beverage, relaxing with my wonderful husband after a quiet dinner – oblivious to the world around me – beginning to respond to the invitation but questioning if it is really God.  I was aware of the stirring happening in my heart, even then, but continually rationalized that he probably wasn’t really calling me.  Little ol’ me.

What if……  what if the church and the people were so aware of God’s stirring and were able to respond with a “yes” to God’s calling? What would these stories look like?

Jason Johnson wrote a great blog recently about Finding Your Something, whether it be in orphan care or as an army ranger, what is God calling you to?  We’re not all called to do the same thing, but we are all called to do something.

What would the story look like if my girls’ mother had been embraced by the church and chose a different path than one of destruction?   What if the only reason God moved us to this beautiful place was to prepare us for these girls?

It can be quite easy to live in our comfortable smaller stories, even those can have their own drama.  But what if God is calling you to something more? Oh, it may be scary, it is certainly risky and I can assure you there will be pain – but it is worth it.

“Mommy, remember when I was in your tummy, and you had to push, and then I came out?”

As I held her in my lap I reminded her, no sweet girl, you were not in my tummy.  Remember? You had another mommy first.  You were in her tummy.  Then later, you came to live with me and we love you oh-so-much!

I’m not pretending this was always my story.  She was not always my baby.  This isn’t the way it was supposed to be.  But somewhere a what if turned into a yes and here we are, in the midst of moments that take my breath away.

I can’t erase the past or the things my girls went through, but I can trust that God will heal and redeem those parts of their story.  Their lives will have scars and we will one day have to explain hard things to them.  I hope we’re able to share with them honestly, in a way that honors the good things and celebrates a God that was so faithful to protect these precious babies.

“She knows her new name.  I hope you don’t mind, we’ve been calling her that and she knows we’re talking to her.”  The sweet daycare worker told me this when I was picking up Baby Girl yesterday.

I wish you knew how much everything within me wants to call these girls by a new name, one that marks their life with a hope and a future, a new inheritance, a new story.  We are still waiting, hoping, trusting and trying to breathe.  It’s hard for me to be in this place of limbo, where it seems every decision is dependent upon this.  I haven’t allowed myself to call them by their new names, it’s too risky.  I don’t know if my heart can take that kind of disappointment, you know, if the bottom falls out.  It’s not a lack of faith, I don’t think.  I’m trying to be real with where we are and the feelings I carry.  It just feels heavy some days.

How does this all come together?  Well, I just keep wondering, what would the world look like if we all stepped into our parts of the story, truly revealing God to a broken world?

What is God calling you to?

When I am tempted to ask God, where were you?  I can only hope his response is not, I was calling you to play your part, but you didn’t hear me. 

Uncategorized

Show me how to love

abs1745

Feet

Warning – this feels raw, but it’s still real.  No children were harmed.  Adults have recovered. Love wins. and stories are used with permission.

“She’s gone.  I don’t know where she is but she’s gone.”  I remember this late night phone-call and the pain that accompanied it.  My oldest niece walked through a challenging season years ago that broke our hearts.  This phone-call from my sister came as I was in bed one evening.  I was stunned and could not find words that could bring any comfort or hope.  All I remember thinking is, this must be what God feels like when we turn our backs on him.

In my years of childlessness I was always aware that there was a part of the father-heart of God that I wouldn’t experience apart from having children. [I was ok with that.]  In the moment of that phone-call I knew my sister was probably experiencing the deepest pain of her life.  Everything within me wanted to fix that pain, solve the problem, find my niece – but all we could do was hope that the seeds that had been sown in her life would bear good fruit.

Then, as I stared at the ceiling above my bed, lying next to my husband I said, “I am never having children.”

Why would anyone choose to expose their heart to that potential pain? Children have to be one of the the greatest vulnerabilities of your life.

Now, sitting here about 3 years later I can see God’s faithfulness to my sister, my niece and our family.  She bears good fruit.

And me?  I’m one year into a harvest that wasn’t mine to bear but I’m believing that as I walk in obedience, love deeply and fight fiercely, the seeds I’m sowing will bloom into beautiful things, one day.

Last week was not that day.

As I was preparing to leave for a 4-day work trip I was blissfully aware that all my ducks were in a row and I would get to spend my last evening enjoying my beautiful little family.  Then, my little dream began falling apart.

We picked up the little girls from daycare, went to our favorite chiropractor for a visit, ate our frosted animal cookies then lost our shit. [sorry, not sorry.]

There is something that is triggered in a twin that has to do with me and any perceived weakness, sickness or lack of normal.  It is truly heartbreaking.  Most of the time I don’t see it coming until it hits me in the face.  Literally, I was slapped in the face.  In the midst of one of the most epic meltdowns I have ever experienced, she walked up to me in a trance-like state, eyes glazed over and slapped me straight across the face.

I was devastated. I was humiliated. I was hurt.  I was sad. I felt hopeless. I felt unappreciated. I was angry, embarrassed, frustrated, broken and undone.

Riding in the car home with tears streaming down my face… wondering… Is life always going to be like this?  Will we always be walking on ice so thin that I’m constantly trying to predict and prevent the cracks?  Will we ever be normal?  Clearly I have failed.  But don’t they know that I have given up pretty much my whole life for them? And this? This is how they thank me?

Then I heard Jesus whisper, welcome to my world.

Humbling. In the midst of my pain I was humbled as I thought of all that Christ endured on my behalf.  The cross. The pain. His life laid down.  All of these feel like a slap in the face when in my own sin, in my own self-protection, I turn my back and do what I want instead of trusting his plan.

I wish I could say that humbling moment and recognition removed my own pain, but it didn’t.  I struggled for a couple of days and even now struggle with understanding the pain it touched in me.  I struggle with the lies of not being enough, not having hope, not wanting to fight any more… I struggle with the battle of it all.

There are many people in the past week that have come along side me, covered my pain, spoken words of truth and reminded me of the part God has invited me to play.  I am humbled by your love. Thank you Lord for a husband that fights for my heart, holds me when I cry and reminds me that they love me too… even when I don’t believe it.  And God has been faithful to meet me in the hard places and remind me of his love.  My heart has shifted to sing, show me how to love as you have loved me.

I returned from my trip exhausted but ready to re-engage.  The girls don’t even remember what went down last week.  When I tried to talk to them about it, they just say, “we had a really bad day.”  [no kidding]  They don’t realize the interaction sent me to one of the darkest places I’ve been in the past year. But in that place, I found Jesus.

They say that the place of deepest pain can be the place of greatest potential for transformation.

I was able to get in touch with the deep desires I have to love and protect these girls, to have an impact in their lives, to see them become the women God has created them to be.  It gives me the courage to keep pressing in and offering grace. Grace, grace, grace.

This morning when a twin stripped down out of the clothes I had picked out for her, searched through the drawers to find her own magical combination then pranced happily into the bathroom, she confidently said,  “mommy, even when I don’t listen, you still love me.”            [grace]

I guess I might be doing something right.