There and Back Again...by The Andrews Clan

If you know me at all, you know that The Lord of The Rings trilogy speaks my religion. I think there is more fervor about Christ in those three books than in most churches on a given Sunday. I think Tolkien had a solid grasp on the pulse of Jesus. I love them both for that.

Five years ago, The Hero and I stood amongst a sludge of adoption paperwork: local and international, foster care and respite care, red tape and bureaucracy. After several phone calls to our local Human Services department, I threw away their information. It sounded so overwhelming and they seemed to only push us towards fostering. After enduring infertility treatments, I knew my heart was not ready to love through another type of loss.

As you all know, The Angel and The Dinosaur joined us by way of international adoption in 2010. After several failed attempts at a Thai adoption and false starting on several domestic adoptions, we were back to square 457. For the second time. God just kept breathing the word "home" into my heart. I felt it over and over again. I was sure that when I wrote this post, that home was leading us back to Ethiopia. I called our home study agency and even advised them to revamp our home study in order to make it approved for Ethiopia. Two days later, we were changing course. Again.

I had never heard of a group home five years ago. I didn't know they existed. But "group home" is just fancy terms for a kid who needs a family. And I kept repeating only one word: Home. Our social worker's sweet clear voice asked only a few things that I could piece together on the phone that day.

"12yr old."

 "group home, 7 years."

"group Home."

 "Are you even interested?"

"not foster care...forever placement."

"group HOME."

I remember telling her I'd talk to The Hero. I promised I'd pray about it. But deep in my heart, I already knew the answer: Of course we were interested. Our family's goal isn't Ethiopia, or fostering, or even really adoption. Our goal is to be who and what and where HE is asking us to be. To whomever He is asking us to be that to.

The Hero never blinked when I printed off the packet of information. He nodded and we prayed and we confronted our kids about an older brother. They were elated. And so here we are. Several visits into our integration process and the newest member of our family who will be living here primarily in the next few weeks.

We do believe our road will lead us to Ethiopia again for adoption. The Angel is certain of it.  She also consistently reminds me now that we girls are out numbered. But to see the face of what is to be our newest son and say no was not something any of us could do.

I'm sorry that I kept the secret from you all so long. There is still much we are not allowed to say.  Adoption is never beautiful all the way around. There is loss and grief and pain. Transition and belonging and acceptance. But never in my life do I see Christ loving me more fully than when we accept a child into our family just as they are. Isn't that what He did for us? Accept us in the broken pieces to go there with us through the ugly and the dark, only to turn around and do it all again the next day? It's why I love Jesus. As He love me in all my failures to be there and then be back again each morning, again and anew. There and back again. There and back yet again. Day after day.

Please join us in prayer. There are so many unknowns yet for our little family. Payments for costs we have not yet seen, hurts we have not yet encountered, legal hurdles to be moved and we will need your love and support every step of the way.

So that's what we can tell you. We haven't fallen off the earth the last two month. We've just been going down the road to home. And now back again.

Christmas In July

Having kids almost five years apart can be challenging, I'm learning. Remember? Still new to this mom thing. And some times I'm just slow on the uptake. But having kids five years apart AND being of two different genders is, well, like a remake of Cowboys v. Aliens. The Dino's favorite game is "How to Hack Off My Big Sister In The Shortest Amount of Time." He beats his record almost daily now.
The Princess's favorite game is "Let's See How Loud I Can Huff At EVERY. THING. My Brother Says." I stopped counting her decibel levels a year ago.
The Hero and I have been trying really hard to maintain our patience and remind them that continuing to drive their parents crazy will only end up with all of us in the loony bin.  But I hear the loony bin cooks for you three meals a day AND does the laundry. And "NO", I have no googled loony bins in our area. Maybe tomorrow.

So tonight when they had been together less than thirty minutes and their were both ready to play their individual games with one another, I called a time out. I set them both down together and announced that if they really were serious about wanting  a brother and/or a sister to come home and live with us from Ethiopia, then they were going to have to get along. We just couldn't bring another person into our family if they were not going to be nice to the family members we already have because that wouldn't be fair to anyone. I asked them both to pray over dinner and ask God to help them know and love their sibling here and their sibling(s) to come, so that we could be the family God wants us to be.

Guys...I cannot make this stuff up. They both prayed and asked for patience, love and kindness towards one another and that God would prepare their other siblings for them as well. It was all I could do to choke back the tears.

They've been asleep now for almost an hour. I can't be sure because I didn't hear the angels announce it from heaven, but I think the Lord Jesus has come back to earth. Or my children have been inhabited by aliens. All evening they have been amazing to one another. They snuggled on the couch during a movie, they have "pleased" and "thank you'd" each other almost to death and while I was cleaning dishes, I heard The Dino say "NO! I WANT to carry your shoes to your room. Because I love you!"

I write you all tonight to document this event, so that this Mommy may have a reminder in the morning when the squealing over "He-got-more-orange-juice-than-me" starts, I can remember that for an entire evening, for the first time, I remember thinking "there really is Christmas in July."

Going Home

When I was a teenager, preparing to leave my parents home for college,
my dad  had a joke for me.
He use to say "you know Sis. They say you can never go home again."
I'd laugh.
And wonder if he was serious.
As the oldest of three, maybe they were ready for me to leave.
To be gone, to never return.
If I really could never load up my car and spend summers on their couch,
raiding their refrigerator and forgetting that there was life outside
the cocoon they had lovingly created.

 I'm sure they took it hard when I left down that long, winding road for college.
21 miles due north.
Despite the distance, I saw them at least once a week.
And talked to them at least four times.
Sometimes all in one day.
It took a solid 20 minutes from my dorm room parking lot
to their gravel drive way.

The summer between college and law school I moved home.
My dad changed his joke.
"Sis, they say you can't go home again."
"But I have no idea who 'they' are, so feel free to come home whenever you want."

I never did move home after that summer.
I think a part of me regrets it to this day.
I mean, who doesn't love your mom making breakfast and doing your laundry?
(I wonder if she'll move back in. :)

Law school meant studying and studying meant late nights at the library.
I kept an apartment on the west side of campus,
north in the City,
almost 40 miles from my parents' front porch.
Then The Hero appeared and well, I had a new home.
Wherever he laid his head was my address.

But I never forgot Dad's reminder.
That if I ever needed a place to rest, to relax, to be who I am,
that the front door is always open.
It's one of the first things I want my children to know about The Hero and I:
The front door is always open.
You can always go home.


When I left you lovely blog readers last, we had a dilemma in our adoption planning.

One blank to fill, so that there would be less blanks in our family pictures.

I fought it.

Hard.

With prayer and Italian heritage stubbornness,
I knew there was no way God was calling us back home.
The Hero and The Angel were adamant I was wrong.
The Dinosaur was unpersuasive.
Could we return to the land I loved again?
Wouldn't God place us some where else?
Why could this country, these people, that boy, those memories, why couldn't they be still.

Why couldn't they let me be still?
Why was I always called back there?

And then one day, it hit me.

Dad's words from so long ago.

Because this place, that boy, those memories, they were one thing to me:
HOME.

That continent that hangs on my neck,
that stirs in my heart.

That landscape where our ministry, our business, our family rooted and grew.

The treasures we'd already received from being there once before.

(Yes. The Dino is in a dress. The Hero continues to lament my failures

 to parent while he's at the fire station.)

The culture we've come to accept as part of our own.

Those faces LoPa Art fell in love with and advocate for through Children's HopeChest

(You can STILL sponsor a child at Hands For the Needy, but you better hurry only 20 of our 210 kiddos remain.)

That place with the hurt and the anguish.

And then there's that boy.

Would we ever be able to adopt him?

With our without him through adoption, he is our life.

Our family.

Our love.

I could no longer be arrogant that the only other Ethiopian child I could love

would have to be that boy.

So yes, dear reader, our next adoption will lead us here:

to this flag,

to this place



but if nothing else, it will lead our children: HOME.

And home is always a place you can go.

How Do You Choose?

We have an agency.

We are home study ready.

Our finger print application can be sent off ASAP.

Only a few minor tweaks need to be made to our paper work.

And then there is one glaring blank:

Country:______________

For about four weeks now, we've been asked to fill in that blank.

Our family vote has been  bottle necked.

Two votes Ethiopia.

One votes India.

Mommy's vote can tie it up or give direction.

The Angel and The Hero are set that it's Ethiopia.

The Dinosaur just likes screaming "I'm an Indian."

(I have no idea why this is fun. But he loves saying it.)

So at dinner each night as we pray, we've been asking for direction.

We've received nothing but silence.

To be honest, I'm not sure He cares.

Don't get me wrong.

I know He has a plan and that He has chosen a very specific person(s) to join our clan.

But we know what the Word says.

The mandate is out there for us to receive.

And now that our eyes have been opened we know what to do.

But like all things, we have a choice.

Geography is up to us.

He is leading our every step, He's waiting on us to choose to fill in the blank.

It Happened

Everyone said it would happen.

I knew it would eventually.

Even though I fought it.

Pushed it down inside.

Prayed it would last forever.

But it didn't.

I believed I would see it in snipets.

Snapshots over a series of days, strung out to months.

But it happened with one shot.

I stepped back to capture her.

Just like always.

The flash sizzled and I checked the view finder.

And I teared up.

She wasn't there.

The little girl that I once knew.

She had been replaced.

With the most amazing young lady.

It's been three summers now.

I never understood why my mother continues to call me her baby.

34 years after delivering me.

I do now.

And it brings me to tears.

I don't regret the time I didn't have her.

It's five years of her life, I'll never know.

I regret not diligently watching every moment,

to know exactly when she stopped being little.

And started being a lady. 

Lorax Birthday

The Angel turned 8 last week.

OMG!

Really.

Has it been three of her birthdays home already?

I'm already missing her accent and being a little girl.

She's almost grown.

Don't believe me?

We now wear the same size shoe.

Drop to your knees and pray for me now ya'll.

She wanted a Lorax themed birthday party.

So we added a few truffala trees for a photo booth.

And took everyone's picture with the birthday girl as they entered our home.

Got her an amazing birthday cake.

And Daddy used his artistic skills to draw a few signs.

And The Dinosaur...

Well, he donned a mustache and then headed to the pool.

While The Hero goofed with his favorite girl.

And Mommy and Daddy tried not to cry.

That their baby is growing up.

The Thing About A Garden

The thing about having a garden is that it is a lot like having another child.

The waiting.

Trying to remember patience.

Dreaming of the future.

Being diligent about weed removal.

Hoping for the maximum amount of growth.

Studying diseases and organic home remedies.

And while all of that sounds like a lot of work.

Trust me, most days it is just work.

Watching each individual plant mature and produce,

is such an amazing joy.

We are learning more about how God developed our world.

And yet, we are also learning about how He develops our hearts.

No wonder there is so much scripture about seeds and harvests.

The Angel calls this the world's smallest jalapeno plant.

But if you look close, you can tell there are at least two,

 just waiting to mature.