Adoption and the Gospel

"It's one thing to talk about changing lives, even to give to an organization like Show Hope--it's another thing altogether to see with my own eyes the real flesh-and-blood little boys and girls standing with Steven [Curtis Chapman] on the stage-- people whose lives have literally been saved by a family's obedience to God.  It's an incarnation of the love of Christ; the fruit of the Kingdom made tangible, standing there with a little bow in her hair.  For a man like me so prone to disbelief, I feel like Thomas putting my hand in Jesus' wounds:  'This Gospel, then, is true?' "                                                        
                                                                                          ~ Andrew Peterson

Adopted. For Life.

Tomorrow we will celebrate Alex's 6th birthday.
It will be an amazing day.
Well, amazing for a six year old anyway.

Pancakes for breakfast.
A trip to the park.
Chick-fil-A (with indoor playground) for lunch.
White cake with blue icing (per his request.)
And presents.  Can't forget the presents.

He has been counting down the days for, oh I don't know, 6 1/2 months now.
And finally it's here.
And I hope it's as amazing in reality as it has been in his little head.

But despite planning and prepping for his big day, I've been thinking a lot about that day 6 years ago when we met that little guy for the very first time.

How we scrambled to make arrangements for our 3 kids at home to drive 2 hours to the hospital where his birth mom was about to be induced.

How we sat outside her hospital room nervously wondering how things were going, how she was doing, how she was feeling, what she was thinking as things progressed.

How the nurse handed him to me all bundled up in his little blanket and hat so that I could give him his very first feeding (just like his birth mom had requested).

How his birth mom held him, and kissed him, and looked at him longingly.  Even more than maybe she thought she would.

How she picked an outfit out from several that I had brought for him to wear for his hospital picture.

How hard it was to watch her, through tears, place him in my arms and walk out of that hospital room.

How we buckled him into his car seat for the drive home and I sat in the back with him clutching my finger with his little hand my mind spinning from all that had just transpired.

And how I found myself completely overwhelmed by the grief, the joy, the fear, and the hope that are all intertwined in this process called adoption.

We've talked to him some about his story but not in depth.

The older he gets and the more he is able to understand and process, the more we will share.
Because his story is amazing.

But still, I wonder how he will respond.
I wonder how each of my adopted children will respond when they come to fully understand their stories.

Yesterday I came across this letter written by Russell Moore, author of Adopted for Life.  He wrote it to the unborn son of an adoptive couple

I read it through tears thinking about my sweet boy and his story that began not six years ago but before the foundation of the world written by none other than the Author of Life.

I read it thinking about my girls who know even less of their history but who are known just as intimately and loved just as much by their Heavenly Father.

And I read it thinking about myself, one of the ex-orphans Moore refers to in his letter, who doesn't deserve one bit of this grace-filled life that He has lavished on me.  What great love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called children of God! (1 John 3:1).

Here is the letter in its entirety.  I pray it is as much of a blessing to you as it was to me.

Dear Micah,

Let me start this letter by acknowledging that I don’t know you. I don’t even know whether to refer to you as “Micah” or “Tyler,” since I don’t know whether your parents will call you by your first or middle name. Maybe you’ll end up with a nickname, or, by the time you’re grown, go by “M.T.” or something else. I don’t know, because I don’t know you. 

Your parents read a book I wrote, and their pastor told me about them, and about you.

But, since you are days away from being born, no one knows you, yet. Your life story is just starting, and there are lots of people who are excitedly waiting for you, most especially your new parents who have been praying for you for a long time. We love you ahead of time.

But, come to think of it, I can’t really say that no one knows you yet, because Someone does. In the years to come, you will probably have hard times of wondering who you are and where you fit. Everybody has such times, some of us a lot. You might be tempted to think that these hardships are because you were an “adopted” kid.

Don’t believe it.

You are no accident. This universe is vaster and more mysterious than you can imagine, and at the heart of it, I believe, there’s a personal Being we call “God.” With millions of people all over the world, and for thousands of years, I believe this God revealed himself in a man named Jesus who taught us to call this God, with him, “Father.”

Jesus had a secret, a secret people wondered about for ages until he showed us just, relatively speaking, a little while ago. He’s not just any other man. In fact, he’s One with his Father from before the universe was. The whole cosmos was patterned after him, and meant to be his. Human beings were made especially to model what Jesus is like, but, long ago, our ancestors, and all of us with them, were taken captive by a spirit-predator, and we’ve only known the slavery of following our own impulses right to the grave. The universe we were meant to rule doesn’t recognize us anymore as what we were meant to be, the children of God.

But Jesus was free of that death sentence. His life lined up exactly with what his Father wanted. He walked into this demon-haunted age, and showed himself to have power over the wicked spirit-beings, and over the curse itself. Then he stood in our place and bore everything we dread the most, and everything we don’t even know enough to dread: suffering, temptation, accusation, abandonment by friends and family, alienation from God, and death itself.

But none of these things were strong enough to hold Jesus in their grip. Because he had nothing to hide from his Father, he was the first person in history to walk out of the grave and into newness of life.

This God of Jesus Christ decided your story. He purposed that you would be born to your birthmother, and that she would have the courage and the love to give you life. He willed that you would be adopted into this family of a mom and dad who love you. He made sure that there was the kind of emptiness in their life that they would yearn to seek after you, right at the time he would bring you to them. And he put you in a family that believes the good news of the old story I’ve told to you above.

My prayer for you is that you see how fervently you are loved. Your birth-mother loved you, or you wouldn’t be here to read this. Your parents love you, and always will, no matter what. Even more importantly, the God who formed you loves you enough to show you in your own life a picture of what he wants for all of us: to be adopted, for life, into his family.

I pray that one day, when you’re old enough, you’ll sense a kind of discontent with your life. I pray you’ll see that this is not because of your circumstances, and it’s certainly not because you were adopted. It’s because you, like all of us, will be a sinner in need of mercy, a spiritual orphan in need of a Father. And I pray that you’ll look to the story your parents believe. I pray you’ll look to Jesus’ bloody cross as hell enough for you, to Jesus’ empty tomb as life enough for you. I pray you’ll learn, if nothing else, to say two things: “Jesus is Lord” and “Abba, Father.” I promise you, he will be there to receive you, to rejoice over you. He always is.

Again, I don’t know you yet. But I look forward to meeting you one day, as your brother. If not in your next one to one hundred years of life, then in the trillions more we have before us in a new creation in Christ. I hope you’ll be there with me with a bustling, uncountable number of ex-orphans like us. It’s only then that you, and I, fully will know what it means to be adopted, adopted for life.

Blessings for a life of peace, joy, and, above all, love,

Russell

One Less

Orphans are easier to ignore before you know their names.

They are easier to ignore before you see their faces.

It is easier to pretend they're not real before you hold them in your arms.

But once you do, everything changes.

~David Platt

Got 5 Minutes?

I can't think of a better way to spend it than watching this...



I am so gonna be singing backup for Third Day when I get to heaven ('cause I really don't think they'd want me doing it right now...)

"We Are Grafted In"

Today one of my posts was featured on the adoption blog "We Are Grafted In."

WAGI is a wonderful site where those with a heart for adoption can find insight, encouragement, and information on adoption and orphan care.

Tears From A Broken Heart (Part 2)

It was Monday night.  It was bedtime.  And it was obvious she wanted to sleep with Lauren again.

Lauren was willing though I had my doubts about letting this become a pattern.

About 10 or 15 minutes after tucking them in for the night, Lauren appears at my bedroom door.

"Mommy!  You need to come here.  Lily was telling me something in bed and I don't know what to do!"

We went back upstairs where the four of us (Lauren, Caroline, Lily and I) each found a spot on Lauren's increasingly popular bed and Lily explained to me through gestures and broken English what she had told Lauren.

When she was little and was out in public, people would point at her.
They would point at her hands.
They would laugh.
They were mean.
And it hurt.

As she lay in bed, she stretched out her arms as far as she could and said:

"I want...I want...I want...hands."  

Deep breath in.  And exhale.

I never expected her to be this open this soon.  I wondered how to tell her everything I wanted her to know with the limited communication we had.

So I prayed silently and then began.

I told her about a place where no one was ever sick or hurting.  No one was mean or angry.  A place where our bodies were new and lacked nothing.  A place called heaven.

I told her about a man, who was God, who came from heaven.  He never did anything wrong.  Only good.  And He was punished for all the wrong things we do, things we deserve to be punished for.  He took that punishment for us because He loves us.  His name is Jesus.

I told her that those who love Him and believe He is true get to go to that special place and be with Him forever.

And I told her that He knew her in China, that He's always known her and that He is the One who told us in our hearts to go and bring her here to be in our family.

I watched her face as her little mind stretched to find the words to ask questions or make comments.  I had never seen her try so earnestly to communicate with us.

And then she asked me something that I will never forget:

"No eyes, no ears, no hands, too?"
(The other children at the orphanage.  The blind.  The deaf.  Those missing limbs.  Does He know them?  Does He love them too?)

Another deep breath.

"So, so much.  He knows each and every one and loves them so much." 


 Because of the language barrier I felt like my responses were so inadequate for the need.  Like the boy who only had 5 loaves and 2 fishes to feed the 5,000.

But in His hands the food was multiplied.
And it satisfied.
And there was more than enough for all who hungered.

And I pray the same thing for my sweet girl.

That her hunger for love would be satisfied in Him.
That her hurting heart would find healing in Him.

And that I would be faithful to point her to Him with every chance I'm given.



"A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise."  Psalm 51:17

.

Tears From a Broken Heart

"A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise."  Psalm 51:17

A couple of nights ago there were more tears.

It started earlier in the evening but culminated at bedtime.

She had asked to sleep with Lauren in Lauren's bed. We've done that before and depending on the night would consider doing it again. But that day we had been outside all afternoon, everyone was tired, and the next day was a very busy Monday. A good night's sleep for everyone was of the utmost importance.

Or so I thought.

She had positioned herself in Lauren's bed and shook her head "no" every time I motioned for her to come to her own bed.

Finally, with a little stomp in her step and pout on her face she made her way back to her own bed.

And then they started to fall.

But it was different this time.

No anger or defiance.
No temper or tantrum.
Just tears. Tears that came from somewhere deep inside.

From the loss of what she left behind? Or from what she never knew?

I don't know.


She hid herself completely under the bedsheets and refused to come out despite my coaxing.

Eventually, though, she dropped the covers enough that I could converse with the two little eyes that peeped out at me between the sheets.

As tears fell, I asked her some questions.  She nodded or shook her head depending on the answer but I'm learning that doesn't always means she understands what I'm saying.

Needless to say, at this point, I didn't see her sleeping with her big sister as an issue of the will.  It was a means of comfort and in that moment that's what she seemed to need the most.

After a few minutes, I was able to get a giggle or two out of her and told her it was OK with me if she slept with Lauren.  And Lauren, the ever-sensitive one, was willing to go to bed earlier than usual.

For the second time that night, I tucked her in, said goodnight, and turned to walk away.

It was at that moment that Lily grabbed my hand, then Lauren's, and then squeezed her eyes until they were shut tight.

She wanted to pray.

She wanted to pray.

She wanted to pray.

She wanted to pray.

This same little girl who looked at us like we were koo-koo for Coco-Puffs the first time we prayed in China was now initiating praying with us.

And so we did.

A few minutes later, as I walked down the stairs I marveled at what had just taken place, what He was doing, and what was to come in the life of this little girl.

And how thankful I was to be able to witness it.

And the next night, He showed me even more....

...to be continued...

A Rough Day...

It started over having to pay $32 for landing on someone else's property in Monopoly.

That's how it started.  But then it progressed.

To pouting.
Then crying.
Then screaming.
Then yelling.
Banging.
Throwing.
Kicking.

45 minutes of the worst tantrum I've seen yet.

It started with Monopoly but really, I don't think it had anything to do with Monopoly by the time it was over.

I'm not surprised by it.  In fact, I'm more surprised that these episodes haven't occurred more frequently considering all that she's been through.

But that doesn't make it any easier to experience.

When He called us to join Him on this journey, He never once promised that it would be easy.

But He did promise something even better than the easy road.

His presence.

He gave us (and all that follow Him) the assurance that He would always, always, be with us.  And today, through the worst of it,  I know He was present. Pouring out the wisdom, grace, compassion, and nerves of steel that I so desperately needed but severely lacked.

For 45 minutes I prayed without ceasing and for 45 minutes I had inexplicable, indescribable peace.

I'm sure I didn't do everything right.  In fact I know I didn't.

But His grace is sufficient for me, for His power is made perfect in weakness.


And if in my weakness, she catches a glimpse of the grace that can heal her heart, then weak I will gladly be.

A Letter to My Daughter {2 years later}

Dear Lia:
 
It was two years ago today that your Daddy and I left Hong Kong after a short night's sleep following our 16 hour flight from the states.  Two quick plane rides and one frantic van trip later, we entered a hotel meeting room in Guangxi, China, breathless from our travels and eager with nervous excitement of what was about to occur in a few short moments.

Before we had time to even catch our breath, there you were.  One of the most beautiful things we had ever laid eyes on.

You came around the corner in the arms of your ayi with those big brown eyes of yours roaming around the room looking for something, anything, that was familiar but finding nothing.

Within seconds she placed you in my arms and we were left speechless.

Though we were stunned by how beautiful you were and humbled that in God's perfect plan you were to be ours forever, it was obvious that you were so scared at everything that was happening around you and to you.

Your eyes brimmed with tears, your lips formed a perpetual pout, and my heart broke for what yours was going through.  How I wished one word, one hug, one kiss could reassure you and make it alright.  But I knew better.  It would take time and consistency to build that bridge of trust from your heart to ours. 

We would later come to realize that many of your tendencies that afternoon and the days that followed were simply ways you sought to deal with these sudden changes.

The stiffness of your body even when (especially when) being held.  The way you would hold your Cheerios between your fingers but not once make any attempt to eat them or anything else for a short time.  The way your eyes were always staring but never focusing.  The silent tears that were a window to your precious little heart.

You fell asleep that first night with your clothes on, your diaper unchanged, and your dinner uneaten.  But you were finally at rest and those things could just wait until morning.

Days passed.  We returned home, and slowly we began to see more and more of who you really were.  A precious flower was beginning to bloom before our very eyes.

Smiles began to dance across your face.
Toddles turned into steps.
Words came.

And now, two years later, those first few weeks in China seem like an eternity ago.

Each new day is counted as a gift from Him to know you just a little more...

 

...as the princess of the house wielding your authority effortlessly despite your tiny 25 pound frame.

....as the performer proudly belting out the latest tune you've learned from Barney when asked to (and even when you're asked "pretty please" not to). 

...as the busy little mommy bouncing your baby doll on one hip while simultaneously chatting on the phone and whipping up some breakfast for you and your brother in your play kitchen.  I watch and I learn.

...as the snuggler who loves nothing more than curling up with your beloved blankie and baby until you drift off to the place where sweet dreams are made.

...as the adored mei mei of the family who has all 5 olders wrapped around your itty-bitty pinky finger.  Or at least that's how you perceive it to be :)

...and especially as my beautiful little baby girl stumbling into my room each morning in your footed pajamas, hair mussed, eyes squinted shut, curling up in bed for just a  few more snuggles before the day begins.

Each day brings with it the thought that I couldn't possibly love you any more than I do today.

Only to find that every tomorrow proves me wrong.

Happy family day, sweet Lia Kate.  We are so thankful that you are here.

Forever yours,
Mommy

One Week In...

Yes, she really is that cute.

And she really is doing remarkably well after only one week at home.

She gets along great with the kids (especially the girls).  In fact, she said Caroline and Lauren were 2 of her favorite things about being here.  ( I can see that.  They are 2 of my favorite things about being here too...).

She sleeps well, eats well, helps with chores, and is so easy to get along with.  Heck, she even came over to the stove when I was making my first batch of homemade fried rice evah, tasted it, looked me square in the eye and gave me a thumbs up.  Seriously, that is saying something about her easy-going personality.

Yes, it may still be the honeymoon period but I'm going to milk it for all it's worth.

Language remains our biggest obstacle but I'm giving it time and trying to find fun ways to teach her.  Any ideas?  I'm all ears.


And yet even though her transition has been remarkably smooth there are still things that have been challenging as we grow into being a family of eight.

There's my dainty little diva who consistently needs un-divafying.

And my super-cute super-hero who can go from 0-60 in no time and needs to be reminded that though his life has just done a 360, the guard rails are still up.  You can run around like crazy within them but once you cross over them there's gonna be consequences.

And then there's the simple fact that hello I think I can officially say "I have a lot of kids."  That's a lot of organizing, compromising, and strategizing to do to keep things sane around here.

One of the perks of my jet lag is that I can get up at 4 or 5 or 6 in the morning (or all 3) with little difficulty.  It's been great to have so much time to soak in His promises before another exhausting day begins.  Many days this week have left me feeling inadequate for molding so many little hearts.  Impatience, fear, and discouragement have marked my days too often.

What a precious gift to be encouraged of His never-ending love, His perfect wisdom, His matchless strength, and His unwavering control over all the craziness that I now call...

Life.

First Day At Home

Although our trip home was filled with trials and tribulations, when we arrived home, we discovered that our house was filled with quite the opposite.

Pulling into our driveway late Saturday afternoon, we were greeted by balloons and streamers, welcome home signs, donuts and dragon cupcakes, pictures of our adventures in China, and love.  Thank you all for the sweet welcome home we received after such a long journey.

I have been continually amazed by how well we are transitioning to a family of 8.  God has been very, very gracious to us.  I know it doesn't always go that way and we are thankful for His mercies.  The kids have all been amazing.  Lily and Caroline are pretty tight buddies and Lauren loves being (and they love for her to be) the doting older sister.  And Michael is the funny big brother who makes her giggle.

The weather was gorgeous today and so they had plenty of time playing outside.  They loved the trampoline and spent a good deal of time jumping, giggling, and being silly.  And don't you love how Caroline and Lily dressed themselves this morning?  Right down to the same hairstyle.

This afternoon we had one more transition to make.  My babies were back!  They came running in and the noise level elevated about 25 decibels as it always does when they are here.  But it was a sweet noise.  They ran to Lily giving her a hug and then were off playing with her as if they had been doing it together forever.

There have been moments of jet lag induced friction but not nearly as much as I would have expected.  And there are times when I sense the language barrier is alienating her.  I know she will get it soon but it is hard for all of us right now as we want her to be fully involved in everything.


Tomorrow we tackle school and some chores just to keep the natives from getting a little too restless.

 I'm really interested to see how that is all going to go...

...and how many pots of coffee I will ingest before lunch time.  :)

Progress

So I thought it might be time for an update on our little wildflower.

She is as adorable as you may think. 
She is hysterically funny.
Smart as a whip.
And the giggles are the real deal. 

However, she can also be a headstrong little thing and has been pushing the proverbial envelope a little more each day since we've met.

Relationally, she has hit it off tremendously with the kids.  (Have I mentioned how insane it would have been for just Scott and I to be here with her?  Oh my word...we are so boring.  What would the poor child think?)

As for her Baba, well he apparently hung the moon.  Where Baba goes, she goes.  What Baba does, she does.  It's all good there.

But Mama?  Where Mama sits, she sits on the opposite end.  When Mama plays, she sits that one out.  What Mama says, goes in one ear (if it makes it that far) and out the other.

Until tonight.

Tonight when we were at the restaurant having dinner, she and Caroline needed to go to the restroom.  I took them both and Lily finished first.  I asked her to wait with me until Carly was done. 

Her response?  Open the door and make a beeline back to the table (which was a decent distance from the bathroom).


I'm sure she would have made it back to the table just fine but that wasn't the point.  The point was "Mama said."   So I flung open the door, chased her down, brought her back to the bathroom and said, "We are waiting for Caroline." 

Second response?  I hear "hrrrmph" and then off she marched again, a little bit faster, back to the table.  Half way there I caught her, brought her back and restated my request a little more clearly and a little more firmly. 

That did it.  She plopped to the floor protesting and pouting but now waiting with me until Caroline came out. It wasn't joyful obedience but it was obedience and it was a start.

We then found the rest of the group and headed home.

I'm not sure what happened from the time we left the restaurant to the time we reached the hotel room, but one thing seemed clear to me...Mama suddenly had earned some street cred.

'Cause from that point on it was "OK, Mama," "Please, Mama," "Thank you, Mama" and the like.  And she seemed to really mean it.  Like I was growing on her a little.

Baby steps.  But I'll take it.

On Our Way...

I love this song.

I love this girl.

And I love the One who has invited us to follow Him to bring her home.

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

Well, duh....

So in between cleaning like a mad woman and guzzling down coffee, I popped over to check my email.

And the friendly people at Continental had sent me a notice about our flights tomorrow.

Guess what?

We don't leave at 6.  We leave at 8:30.

You would've thought I'd be on top of important information like that.

Also makes me wonder what else I've forgotten in my preparations.

It's incidents like these that make me so glad that He doesn't leave me to my own wits to survive.

And so thankful that He goes before us, preparing hearts, opening doors, closing them, leading, guiding...

And even sending out emails to ensure that this scatterbrain doesn't miss her flight.

Now, back to the toilets...

Stay Away, Jim Cantore

We are scheduled to head out of RDU this Friday at 6 AM. 

Oh yes, I did say 6 (in the morning) AM.

Fun times. Fun times.

And our flight path has us heading to Newark, NJ where we'll board the big ol' jet airliner that will take us to Beijing.

However, Jim Cantore, of Weather Channel fame, has planted himself right in the heart of New England and is giddy with all the "weather drama" there is to report there. (So unlike him).

I don't particularly like "weather drama."

Especially while in an airplane.

So I'm warning you now, Cantore.  Stay out of Jersey.

No weather drama, please.

Because we have a very important appointment to keep.

And I do not intend to miss it.

To The Victor

Yesterday was our marathon shopping trip to pick up the all the "essentials" for China.

We pillaged Target.


We plundered Walmart.


And today, I sort through the spoils of our victory and try to make it all fit into our alloted suitcases.

Some of my "must-haves"...

Tylenol PM to hopefully knock us out on the flight so when we arrive at 11 pm, we'll feel like going to bed.  Not like eating lunch.

Just in case the Tylenol PM is a complete bust

For all the stories we've heard about motion sickness being a problem, especially on the 3 hour trip to the orphanage

This was a "must-have" according to Lauren and Caroline.  Matching lady bug shirts for all my smiley girls.  How could I say no to that?

And as you can imagine there is much, much, more.

My goal is to fit everything in 3 checked bags, a few carry-ons, and the kids backpacks.

Not bad for 5-6 travelers going for 2 weeks. 

Another beautiful story...

Written by God
Illustrated by Lauren and Caroline

Lia, Carly, Lauren, and Lily

Friends in High Places

Let me tell you about my friend, Sonia.

We "met" recently via the world wide web when we realized we'd be traveling to China at the same time and our kids were at the same orphanage.

Lily with Sonia's 2 boys (Joey on the left and Jacob on the right).

Sonia is definitely someone you want to know when you are about to embark on an adventure like the one we are preparing for.

See, Sonia knows people.

She's got connections.

She asks.  They answer.

And the other day, while reading her blog, she dropped some knowledge on me that was profound.

Profound.

What was it?

In a word:  Jibbigo.

And what is that you may ask?

Think "universal translator" from Star Trek that you download as an app to your phone.

You speak English.  It translates to Chinese.

You (well OK, not you, but let's say some really cute 8 year old Chinese girl) communicates in Chinese, it translates to English.

This is huge.  Because there are some very, very important things we will need to communicate to others while in China.

Like "Where is the nearest Starbucks?" 

And "Could you please point me in the direction of the nearest toilet that flushes?"


And of course, one of the most important things we'll need translated~

Something I have been waiting months to communicate~

"You, sweet girl, have one of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen..."

Thanks Sonia.

You rock.

What I Should Be Doing...

Right now, I should be making lists.

I should be organizing the piles of stuff accumulating in my room.

I should be doing laundry.

But instead?

Instead, I'm wishing I had taken Mandarin instead of French in high school (although I am quite fluent in shampoo bottle reading as a result).

'Cause I'd just love to know what's being said on this playground....

Good to know giggling is a universal language :)

Family

I have one more picture to post of Lily. (OK, actually I have several more but I'm trying to pace myself...)

This one was posted on Kim's blog this morning.

It is Lily holding the picture that Lauren drew of our family.

Our family as she sees it.

Because Lauren doesn't need to wait for any government to validate what she already knows in her heart.

Lily is her sister.

Our daughter.

A part of our family.

And only a few short days and a little air space continue to separate us.