What Makes It Great

It's no big secret. Adoption is hard. Damn hard some days. Some weeks even. 

Hard is definitely a four letter word to describe it. 

But there are moments in this parenthood that are, that I wouldn't take back for all the hard that has been produced between now and back then. 

Like, for the last two days at pickup, one of my babies who is no stranger to the hard and how to make it hard, screams my name and throws themselves into my arms. 

And last night a bed time, as he curled his fingers through mine, he whispers "Mommy, you are my friend." 

Yes, there is hard. And sometimes it is all that I see in a day. But it is the moments that are breathless that make it easier to breathe. 

"Of course it's hard....it's the hard that makes it great." Tom Hanks, A League of Their Own

Every Good Thing

I love this time of year. 

The growth, the heat, the shades of green.

I started gardening two years ago. 

It's the most amazing communion with God's world I have every day.

From the first tomato on the vine yesterday,

to my first eggplant ever,

our first time growing sunflowers,

 dreaming about pickles soon to come,

the two teensy raspberries, 

and my favorite daylily plant.

All is grace,

All is good 

and it is our personal gifts from our Maker.

Daily changing. 

But worth exploring to discover. 

Every. Single. Day.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights..."James 1:17

What have you been blessed with this weekend?

"Office School" ?

I'm not sure where or who first used the term "home school" with The Angel, but about every six weeks, she asks me if and when she will every be home schooled. I always give her the same answer, "I have no idea" and "I hope never". 

To be frank, homeschooling has always intimated me and one of the things I always beg God not to call me to do. 

But He saw fit to give me a daughter to think that homeschooling is her personal garden of Eden. 

Because of our summer schedule, The Angel has been in church camp, day camps, etc. for the last five weeks. With our family vacation scheduled at the end of July, there was a three week lapse in what we had scheduled for The Angel. The Hero and I talked about what to do while we were at work and the answer seemed to return to her spending her days with us at our offices. 

So I told her we were giving her a reading list and buying a couple of work books to give her a boost before third grade and she'd be spending her days at the office with me, doing some school work and reading. 

I thought she would scream, protest or profess eternal boredom. 

Wrong.

She's upstairs as I type, packing a back pack, sharpening pencils and giving The Dinosaur the 411 as to what home schooling looks like when your mom works a full time job.

Lord, this is only 3 weeks. 

3 weeks. 

Please?!

Camp

For the second year in a row, The Angel has spent a week at church camp.

The last night of camp is family night, where we are invited to come have dinner with the campers.

The Dino has asked EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. 

"Is it time to see her yet?"

I finally got to tell him YES tonight.

While she's had a blast and has exhausted herself with late nights, 

friends and junk food, our pack of four doesn't function with one missing.

Stoked to pick her up tomorrow afternoon.

To Pack or Unpack

I read her blog post this morning like I do most every morning. Today, I read it through tears. A night that ended in prayer and tears and hurt, wondering if I'm doing what He's asked of me carried over through her words on the other side of the world. And I couldn't stop sobbing.

Trips to Africa are easy for me. It's the daily grind on the plains of Oklahoma that wears me down. I can hug and love an orphaned child, but patience with my nine year old's laundry strains a mama's nerves all the tighter. Weary and travel worn after international trips leave me fulfilled and brimming with renewal, but find me at the end of a work week and I'm stressed and ungrateful for most everything.  

As I saw the pictures of one of my favorite places today, more than a twinge of malcontent flushed my brain. 

The longing to pack a bag, hop a plane, to return to my second home grew.
 

"I need to be there."

"I need to go."

"I'm best on African soil."

But as he often does, the whisper came. 

It begins at home.
 

Going for you is easy. 
 

It's the here that is hardest.
 

Learn it here.
 

Live it here.
 

Love me here.
 

Love me now. 

It hit harder than I thought. Truth usually does that. I am always better on the go. Staying proves hard for me. Consistency in living love here is a rocky, previously rutted road. 

So how does one daily live out love from behind a desk?
 

A kitchen counter?
 

Under neath piles of laundry?

The more I prayed, the more convicted I became. The list grew long, but short on execution:

Checking on a friend.
A walk through a garden.

 

Putting down my cell phone and playing another game of hide and seek.

 

Encouraging a co-worker who I know is struggling personally.

Continuing to practice the always tough "I'm sorry. Please forgive me?"

Complimenting the lady who served me lunch.

 

Pull out of the drive thru and pull up to our table for a home cooked meal. And yes, hot dogs and cheetos count as "home cooked" some days.

Turning off the T.V. and tuning into my husband's worries and stressors of the week.

 

 

Slowing our pace to where we not only hear each other but that we SEE one another.

 

Learning less about characters I'll never meet and digging more into the character of my children.

 

Continually, consistently, and sincerely giving thanks. "In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you" 1 Thessalonians 5:18

 

Documenting my #1000 gifts, one day at a time.

Writing our sponsorship children letters.

 

 

Closing the shoe sale window and opening up a list of needs of some of our favorite charities.

Writing a check to some of our favorite missionaries-no matter how small I see it to be.

 

Quit flipping through the latest magazine wanting some thing and flipping to the Psalms for what my soul needs.

While each one is small, no great thing was ever big without starting as lesser. Because to someone else, their perspective of size may be opposite of yours. I think that's why in Matthew He tells us to give someone a glass of water. A bucket is too much and a thimble requires too little of our effort. It's about the receiver and the giver, both receiving rewards from the gift and the gift giving. Pouring enough of ourselves into someone else to fill the need, no matter how small we see the need or our action. 

 

"I ask-ask the God of our Master, Jesus Christ, the God of glory-to make you intelligent and discerning in knowing him personally, your eyes focused and clear, so that you can see exactly what it is he is calling you to do, grasp the immensity of this glorious way of life he has for his followers, oh, the utter extravagance of his work in us who trust him-endless energy, boundless strength." Eph. 1:16-19, MSG 

This walk, the journey of grace and love and leaning on Him requires both the going and the staying, knowing when to pack and what to unpack. Rejoicing that someone's going is encouraging me in the staying and praying for the opportunity to return the favor for someone else. 

Praying for you all today, whether your are packing or unpacking, going or staying and praying that you are filled with endless energy and boundless strength to accept and grow in the place where you are.

 

Happy Father's Day

I'm not sure how other men handle years of infertility, struggling, begging God to have a baby.

I don't know how any other man deals with a crazy wife who dreams of adopting, not knowing where that road might lead.

Maybe there are better stories of heroism and bravery, but I haven't heard them.

I know that you held me when the sobs of despair had overtaken me.

I know that you breathed "yes" to adoption before it was every really an option for us.

I know that you followed Jesus day in and day out on our road to becoming a family.

I know we boarded a plane together as 2 and came back as a pack of 4.

I know that from the moment he met you, you were his "person" and he's been attached to you ever sense. 

I know that she sees strength and power in you and she relies on you for that. 

I know that you are teaching her how to be purely loved so that YOU are the standard she judges all other men by.

I don't know how other men handle tough situations in their lives, but I know how you handle yours.

And I couldn't be more honored to have my life validated by having you in it. 

Happy Father's Day to the most pure hearted, amazing Hero I know. 

Old & New Again Friends

I've been blogging for almost 4 years now. 

The kids have been home for over 3. 

Out of all the people in the adoption community we've "met" online and in person, there are still those couples who we think "would love to meet them. Would love to see our kids play togther.", etc.

One of those families is the Briggs family from Colorado Springs.

Through our adoption journey we learned we had a lot in common.

Early 30s. 

No biological children at the time of our first adoption.

And adopted two children at the same time, of almost exactly similar ages.

Our kids were even born in the same region of Ethiopia and

were together at their foster care in Ethiopia for a time.

So imagine our excitement when Juli emailed me and said they would be driving through Oklahoma on vacation and wanted to know if we could meet up for lunch.

We were thrilled.

The Angel has been asking for a sister for years and having her former buddy back for even a short while did nothing to diminish her desire.

What a beautiful short time with old friends who were made new again today.