Adoption and Faith Archives - Page 19 of 44

January 24, 2014January 24, 2014

Profundity of Life After Adoption

“Nummies, Mama? I make you dis.”

His tiny little voice barely above a whisper as he approaches me on the couch, handing me a tiny toy colander filled with a wooden pizza slice and two felt pieces of bread- white and rye. “Peanut butter, cheese, and chocolate, ” he tells me.

Gifts from my boy.

From where I am sitting I can see a wall full of pictures; pictures we took of him last July, when we first met our little boy in a Moscow orphanage. He’s two, but he looks much younger. Maybe a year and a half old.

I remember last year: worrying about him, wanting- no aching– to bring him home, and counting down every eternal day until we did. Mostly I remember walking the streets around our neighbourhood and praying as desperately as I could for that home-coming day to arrive soon.

Lots about parenting an adopted child is very normal. We do all the regular parenting things like books and baths, play dough and painting, making messes and tidying up…

But parts of it are just so profound. Every time we walk those same streets together- my boy and I- I think about those prayers I whispered and that deep ache in my heart, now filled. Neither my heart nor my mind can comprehend the mysterious way in which God seemed to bend fate and bring us together. Redemption for both of us.

We do such normal things like taking our boy to the zoo and yet the whole experience is seeped in this profound brew of what is and what could have been. I watch my boy who has morphed from babyhood to childhood in nine short months and I am amazed. As he gestated in our family he has grown only more vibrant. Just when we think we’ve hit the height of his transformation, he surprises us.

Nine months ago, he grew upset when we had him run around inside without shoes on, so used to having his little feet always covered. Five months ago we took him, bundled in our winter clothes, to the shore of Lake Michigan and he froze in the sand, then gingerly pushed it back with the tip of boot, wondering what is this stuff? We tried him on a trampoline twice this summer, both times to cries of, “I don’t like it!!” and scooped him off.

And then yesterday, we came across this net at our zoo’s playground- roped across a pit, bouncing and insecure beneath the happy feet of running children. And Arie tried it.

With apprehension, he took two steps and cried out, “Mama help!” but we encouraged him to do it alone. “Only kids allowed on here Arie! No grown ups. I know you can do it!”

Slowly, he took another step. And another. His face grew more determined and proud with every inch until finally, he reached the other side. Pure victory for my little man.

As he raced around that play fort I was lost again in the profundity of what is and what could have been. A year ago, an orphanage. Today, a zoo. A year ago, thousands of miles away. Today, here. What could have been: the small world, the day-to-day, the every changing care-givers, and the insecurity of not knowing who comes next. A little boy, relying on himself. What is: a big world of new experiences, the day-to-day and the joyful surprises, the constant love of mom and dad, the security of knowing that it’s us, forever. A big boy, growing brave and finding his way.

His life verse runs constant through my mind:

See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.

With his life, God is doing a new thing. The profound moments stitched like a colorful thread through the fabric of my day.

There will be many more of these moments. Many more times when I will be struck with the wonder of his life- of my life- redeemed. More pictures in albums and photos on my wall. Restoration. Streams in the wasteland.

Love.

_______________________________

Jillian Burden is still adjusting to this beautiful thing called motherhood; she and her husband are parents to a son by way of a Russian adoption. While her belly might not have expanded, her heart and her faith sure grew as her family did! You can read about this soul stretching journey to parenthood on her blog.

January 22, 2014January 22, 2014

Beauty Unfolding

When I was 21 years old, my prayers for my future children began to take shape. It was as if I knew they were already alive, not necessarily waiting for me yet, but growing up in their own places and living their lives apart from mine for a season. That year, I began to pray for the children who would join my family in the future, realizing that they could be currently living through the circumstances that would create a need for adoption in the future. That’s a scary thought, knowing that your future child could be living through trauma and not being able to prevent or alleviate the circumstances.

The surprise of my life this whirlwind fall has been meeting the child who was born that year – the year I began praying for her without ever dreaming she was growing up in Africa. A few years later, her sister was born. My prayers had always been for them, so I should not have been surprised when even our first hours together showed evidence of God’s work in their hearts and mine long before we knew about each other.

But as this adoption took shape, so did my fears. I was afraid that they wouldn’t trust me, afraid that we wouldn’t be able to communicate, afraid that our attachment would take years. Normally, fear cripples me, but during that season I drove a friend’s car and listened to her CD about how God is a builder. It seemed weird to think He could build intangible things like positive emotions, trust, and attachments, but surely those things are easier to build than an atom or an ecosystem? So my fears began to shape my prayers as I asked Him to build a structure for safety and attachment in my girls before we even met. I asked Him to redirect their neural pathways, allowing them to bypass the things that had once caused fear and insecurity and immediately build trust with me. Obviously, we’re only a few months into this adventure, but almost daily I see evidence that my prayers were answered in amazing ways.

The child who was supposedly terrified of light-colored skin walked across a busy parking lot to put her hand in mine, long before she knew I was her mama. She found safety in me, a stranger who did not speak her language. The one who hung back, timid, and described herself as the one who “always kept quiet” when others took her things and made fun of her suddenly can describe her feelings with beautiful language that brings tears to my eyes.

As this beauty has unfolded, I’ve had to wonder if Jesus has been praying for me, His daughter – praying that my attachment to Him would be secure, that I would not respond to Him out of old wounds and habits, that God would build in me everything necessary to enjoy life as His daughter. I don’t know what God did to prepare my daughters’ hearts for me, but I wonder if this adoption (this uncertainty, this absence of home for Christmas, distance from friends and family, fear of inadequacy) have all been deliberate and gracious actions of a God who is building something new in me just as He is doing in my daughters.

What impossible are you asking Him to build this year?

________________________________

Mandie Joy is a foster parent and in-process adoptive mama of two beautiful little girls in Africa. She blogs at www.seeingjoy.com.

January 20, 2014January 20, 2014

Why Knit?

I took up knitting not long after our first adoption. I knitted a scarf first, imperfect with its holes randomly scattered, revealing to all that not only was I a novice, but also that I am decidedly not a perfectionist. The holes didn’t bother me really– but the sense of satisfaction I felt at having actually finished a project was soon to become an addiction. I’ve lost count of how many scarves I’ve knitted over the past 13 years, but suffice it to say that even my husband and 3 sons have scarves– I totally knew they’d never wear them! I didn’t care though because I soon realized that the hobby I began as a way to connect with our Russian daughter, who loved to knit, turned out to satisfy a need that parenting definitely does not. That is, I could set out to accomplish a goal and actually see it finished within a week or two. How refreshing in the midst of the parenting goals which consume our thoughts, our time, and our emotional and spiritual energies. Goals like bringing our children into healing from the deep wounds of their pasts, teaching them to give and receive love, to think before acting and to understand consequences, to learn English and to get along with others, to handle their anger well, not to mention personal hygiene, sharing toys etc, etc, etc……..!

Delayed Gratification

Talk about long-term goals–parenting surely can lay claim to being the job with the most delayed gratification ever! We realize early on that our efforts in raising our children often don’t see the fruit we desire and believe for until an undisclosed but greatly anticipated and hoped-for day. So we parents learn to sow seeds in all kinds of climates, stages, and circumstances.

“Happy and fortunate are you who cast your seed upon all waters [when the river overflows its banks; for the seed will sink into the mud and when the waters subside, the plant will spring up; you will find it after many days and reap an abundant harvest], you who safely send forth the ox and the donkey [to range freely].” Isaiah 32:20 (Amplified)

I’m excited to share this scripture with you because it has been such an encouragement to me in the past few weeks. I am encouraged once again as a parent to continue to sow the seeds of love, wise counsel, firm boundaries, unconditional acceptance, words of Truth, kindness and firmness….

“You Will Find it After Many Days….”

Adoptive parenting is one of those jobs that is vast in scope with only occasional (but glorious) signs of accomplishment and finality. We treasure those moments when, like the tying off of the last piece of yarn on my latest knitting project, we see that one of our long-term goals have been met. As this scripture says, “you will find it after many days…” I want to encourage you parents to continue to cast in hope the seeds of your love (in all its many forms) on all the waters of your child’s life, all the waters of your families’ circumstances. For indeed, that seed will sink into the mud of your child’s life, deep into his identity. And though hidden from you for what may seem an impossibly long season, so long that it may call upon you to believe with faith-filled hope, it will indeed “spring up.”

Glorious Satisfaction

Just recently we experienced the glorious satisfaction, (far more gratifying than any completed knitting project I am here to tell you!) of seeing seeds of healing spring up before our astonished eyes — seeds sown over and over and over and over in hope. To hear our child speak words to us that could only be spoken from a place of deep healing, confirmed in both eyes and tone of voice, left both Stephen and me full of praise to God for His faithfulness. This experience, so fresh and pleasing, reminded us that we must not grow weary of casting our seeds when all we see is a muddy stream and truly wonder if we’ve made any progress at all.

Father God, we are believing You for the promised abundant harvest. Help us to parent in faith when our eyes don’t see any evidence of plants and fruit in our children. May it be to us and our children as you have said. Amen.

___________________________

Beth has been married to her husband Stephen for 27 years. They have seven children, ages 18-24. Several years after giving birth to three girls God called their family to the adventure and blessing of adoption. In 2000, they brought home a brother and sister, ages 5 and 10, from Russia. Then they returned to the same orphanage 18 months later and brought home two more brothers, ages 7 and 10. Beth’s heart has been deeply and forever changed as she has watched the love of Father God poured out on her whole family through adoption. She leads Hope at Home, a ministry dedicated to help adoptive and foster parents encounter the Father’s heart for their families, partnering with God to transform orphans into sons and daughters. For more parenting insight and encouragement in the Lord, go to Hope at Home.

January 17, 2014January 17, 2014

It Takes a Village {Together Called 2014}

Together Called 2014 is only 5 weeks away! In addition to hearing from Stephen and Beth Templeton in the main sessions, couples who are attending will have the opportunity to hear from some others who have been prayerfully preparing to share with them during two different breakout session times. We are so thankful for their commitment to helping make Together Called 2014 a time of restoration and refreshment for attendees. Won’t you join us in praying not only for the attendees, but for the following speakers — part of the “Together Called Village” — as they prepare to share what God has laid on their hearts.

Photo: Can't wait to fill this room at this year's Together Called in 5 1/2 weeks!

The Biological and Adoptive Family: Parenting With Grace in a Blended Family – Tim and Nancy Shaw

Adoption is born out of loss and disruption. Primarily a loss for the child(ren) you are adopting but also a disruption to your marriage and the lives of the children who are anxiously awaiting the arrival of their new sibling. Blending the family God intended for you will be hard. But, in accordance to His perfect plan, God has provided us with all we need and come to a place of great joy in this process. In this session, Tim and Nancy will share the good, the bad, and the ugly of their adoption story and practical strategies for blending biological and adoptive children. They’ll discuss preparing the family for the arrival of new family members, using your children’s natural personalities to your advantage, what to do about the inevitable squabbling and sibling rivalry, and how discipline changes as blending occurs.

About the speakers: Tim and Nancy both grew up and live in gorgeous Arizona. Tim is an adult adoptee, and Nancy is a soccer mom and reluctant city girl. They were highschool sweethearts and are now parents to 7 children (4 homegrown and 3 through the blessing of special needs adoption), none of whom have actually ever played soccer. Tim and Nancy put their faith in the Lord to direct their path and get them though each fabulously crazy moment. Nancy blogs at Ordinary Miracles & The Crazy 9.

It Takes a Village of Two – Mark and Kelly Raudenbush

Intentional parenting of kids from hard places is not easy. All the traditional methods of correction we know have to be reconsidered. As we set out to meet the unique needs of each of our children, it’s imperative that moms and dads approach correction as a team. This session will provide a little bit of why and how and then give an opportunity for couples to wrestle through some real life application for their own families.

About the speakers: Mark and Kelly Raudenbush founded The Sparrow Fund in 2011, having been changed by the adoption of their youngest child and desiring to serve adoptive families. Kelly holds a Masters degree in counseling, and they both have been trained to teach the Empowered to Connect material which is based on TBRI, Karyn Purvis’ research and methods for children from hard places. They consider it a joy to pour into both mothers and fathers who are eager to do the right thing for their families, encouraging parents to understand their own hearts more clearly as they seek to care for the hearts of their children. Mark and Kelly have been married for 15 years, have 4 children, and also work professionally with a nonprofit reaching students in Asia. Kelly blogs at My Overthinking.

Let’s Play: Building Blocks, Building Attachment – Cheryl Walters

Play isn’t only about fun and games. In this session, Cheryl Walters will explain the importance of child’s play in building attachment and fostering positive parent-child relationships. She will also share different ideas about how to play with your children during different seasons of life for the “play-challenged,” focusing on how we can be attuned to our children and maximize interaction.

About the speaker: Cheryl Walters is a Licensed Psychologist since 1985. She is a Registered Clinician with ATTACh (Association for the Treatment and Training in the Attachment of Children) as well as a Certified Theraplay Therapist. Cheryl designed, implemented, provided services, and fulfilled the role of Supervisory/Consulting Psychologist in a specialized treatment program for children/adolescents and their parents/families with diagnoses associated with Reactive Attachment Disorder, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, and Developmental Trauma Disorder. Currently, Cheryl specializes in providing outpatient psychotherapy for attachment issues and early trauma as a psychotherapist at Bethany Christian Services.

Nutrition for Our Kids: Some Things to Chew On – Wanda Graham

You don’t have to bite off more than you can chew to provide your children with good nutrition! With her love for cooking and passion to have healthy kids, Wanda Graham has invested herself in learning how good nutrition can bless children who have experienced trauma. In this session, Wanda will serve up an overview of the impact of nutrition on our children and the role we have as parents to meet our children’s needs in this way as well as provide bite-sized tips to healthy meal and snack options that will be well received and won’t make parents feel like they need to be masters of the kitchen or spend a fortune at the store.

About the speaker: Wanda Graham has been married to Matt for 14 years. Their home here in Lancaster County is a busy one, bustling with 6 children, all of whom have joined their family via adoption (one private domestic adoption, five adoptions through foster care). She is passionate about caring for the fatherless and the families who graft them in as their own. Wanda and Matt have been joyfully serving on the leadership team for Together Called since last year’s retreat.

Together to the Throne – hosted by Stephen and Beth Templeton

There are times when what we need most is simply for someone to stand with us in prayer. This session is set aside just for that. No teaching except what you hear from God in prayer; no topic except the one you bring for prayer. Jesus said, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.” During this time, Stephen and Beth, our keynote speakers, will stand together with couples, believing God for His kingdom to break in to the situations that are on your heart and for His voice to speak louder than all the others as you walk this adoption journey.

About the facilitators: Stephen and Beth Templeton, our keynote speakers, serve as elders at Northlands Church where Beth also leads a ministry to mothers and Stephen is a worship leader. Thirteen years ago, after having had three biological children, the Lord called Stephen and Beth to adopt four children from Russia, so now there are 9 Templetons. Both Stephen and Beth have a passion for communicating the joy, peace, and victory available to us as adoptive parents. Stephen is also a physician and practices dermatopathology in Atlanta. You can read their blog here: Hope at Home.

Trauma and the Adopted child: What it is and What to do – Dr. Phil Monroe

Does adoption represent a trauma for the adopted child and his or her new family? Might trauma explain some of the problem behaviors your child exhibits? In this session, Dr. Monroe, director of the Global Trauma Recovery Institute, will review the characteristics of posttraumatic stress disorder and complex trauma along with options for treatment adoptive parents should consider. Dr. Monroe will also discuss recommendations for parents and loved ones, those who are most impacted by the adoption of children who have experienced trauma.

About the speaker: Phil Monroe is a licensed psychologist and Professor of Counseling & Psychology at Biblical Seminary. He directs both the MA in Counseling degree program and Global Trauma Recovery Institute. Phil has been married to Kim for the past 23 years and together they adopted two infant boys who are now 15 and 13. Phil’s professional and personal musings can be found at www.wisecounsel.wordpress.com.

What’s Romance Got to Do With It? – Jeff and Cheryl Nitz

All of us experience unique challenges balancing the needs of our children and maintaining a growing vital marriage. And, loving and caring for our spouses, including having some semblance of a love life, is an important way that we care for them, ourselves, and even our family as a whole. Come join Jeff and Cheryl as they share some of their own journey as adoptive parents and offer thoughts about how best to foster a fun, growing, intimate marriage that equips parents to lead healthy families.

About the speakers: Jeff and Cheryl Nitz bring both professional and personal experience to share as they offer insights, challenges, and encouragement to families whom God has brought together through adoption. Jeff and Cheryl both have over 25 years of professional experience in the field of adoption and foster care. Jeff is currently the Vice President of Adoption & Family Services for Bethany Christian Services. Cheryl is a therapist and the Director of the Attachment & Bonding Center of PA, specializing in working with families impacted by adoption, trauma and attachment challenges. But, Jeff and Cheryl often say their best education has come from being parents to their four kids (two of whom came to the family through adoption) and grandparents to four. Most importantly, Jeff and Cheryl are presenting as fellow sojourners—sharing with other adoptive parents the joys and challenges and lessons learned and deeply committed to fostering a fun, growing, supportive marriage in the midst of chaos!

Where Are My Green Pastures? – Stephanie Smit

If the Lord is your Shepherd, shouldn’t you be enjoying some green pastures? Perhaps you feel like your adoption journey has felt much more like the valley of the shadow of death than green pastures. Maybe He walked you through the “valley of the shadow of death” in your adoption process; but, now that you are home, you are still waiting for some “green pastures.” By adjusting our understanding of the green pastures David was writing about, we will gain a better understanding of how God provides for His people. Whether you are still waiting to complete your adoption or have been home “in the trenches” for many years, find encouragement by getting new perspective on the promises of Psalm 23.

About the speaker: Stephanie’s 18 years teaching in the classroom were easy compared to mothering three little ones at home full time. Through the process of growing her family with her husband Matt, God has revealed Himself most clearly. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in mighty ways throughout their adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. Through times of heartache, disappointment, and uncertainty God proved Himself to be not only the God of the end result, but the God of the right-there-with-you. In addition to being a full-time mother, Stephanie loves connecting with and encouraging other adoptive families through her work as administrator of The Sparrow Fund’s blog “We Are Grafted In.” Stephanie also blogs at We Are Family.

January 15, 2014January 15, 2014

Again and Again and Again

There was no getting it out of my head. It had become my heart’s background music.

How great is our God. Sing with me. How great is our God.

Ashlyn had invited Lydia to watch her adoption video again…and again and again. As I buzzed around the kitchen, I could hear the song from the other room over and over with Ashlyn’s sweet narration of the images that have become as much a part of the song as the notes and lyrics themselves for our family.

As I danced between the stove and sink to prepare our meal as mothers often do, a small person ran into the room and hugged my legs tight, forcing me to still as small people often do.

I love being adopted. I want to be adopted again!

Caught up in the words of praise and moving music and dramatic images, she recognized in her little 4 year old way the significance and beauty of that moment when we received her in our arms after years of anticipation.

I told her then and write now to preserve the words and my heart here for when her little 4 year old heart is an 8 year old heart or a 12 year old heart or it bursts one day as a mother’s heart.

I love you “being adopted” too. I am so happy to be your mother. When I see you sleeping in the car or watch snuggled up with your sister or listen to your long prayers before dinner, my heart smiles along with my face and I hear the words of “How Great is Our God” in my heart again. The day I saw you enter that office room in the arms of a woman who had cared for you for a year, wearing your big puffy pants, I was amazed and filled with wonder. Years of desiring you had come to fruition. I remember every moment of that day—the songs of the street cleaning trucks, the echoes in the marble halls, the cough that rattled your little frame. I can get caught up in wanting to relive that day too. But, my love, there is no need now to pine for that day. When we adopted you, it was done. Finished. You become ours. Grafted in. If I were able to go back and do it again, I would because I love you even more fully now than I did that day. But, there’s no do overs with that. Our vows that day still stand today and will tomorrow and forever more as every part of you is every part of us.

Yes, I love you being adopted. I loved that day when we adopted you. And, I’d do it again 100 x 100 times if I could. I love you that much.

________________________________________

Forever changed by our experience of being adopted and adopting, Kelly is a stay-at-home mom/manager to 4 children and a professional juggler, juggling her calling as wife and mother with her secondary callings (editing and serving adoptive families through The Sparrow Fund). You can learn more about their adoption story, how they’ve been changed, and what life for them looks like on their personal blog, My Overthinking.

January 13, 2014January 13, 2014

Here We Go

You are my firecracker and my sweet-as-cotton-candy love. I’m crazy about you. You are my favorite three year old, though I can hardly believe that it’s true. Your birthday was Sunday. Where did three years go? You are brave and strong and you love fiercely. When you hug, it is never half-hearted. It is teeth-clenched, arms tight, hard-as-you-can-possibly-squeeze intense, as if the best way to show someone you love them is to really make them feel it. I think you’re probably right.

You love to cuddle and snuggle and wear your “comfy cozy jammies.” You’re smart as a whip and regularly surprise us with your ability to creatively solve your problems… recently you (the girl who loves to do everything herself) began asking us to come to the bathroom with you so that you can “hold onto our legs.” When we asked you why, you matter-of-factly announced it was so you wouldn’t have to touch the toilet and therefore not have to wash your hands. (You don’t want to slow down long enough to wash your hands, and I’ve told you in the past that you must do so after using the bathroom and touching the germy toilet.) We laughed at your problem-solving. You love your puppy, LeLe, and regularly tell her that she’s a good dog. Except when she isn’t, and then you like to point out her foibles. It won’t be long till you take the same approach to us. Your descriptor-of-choice for people lucky enough to be in your good favor is “girl.” Those who aren’t are all “boys.” Regardless of a person’s actual gender, I might add. The other day after your daddy did something that particularly pleased you, you happily sighed and told me, “I love my daddy, mama. He’s not a boy anymore.” It’s nice to know you have a concept of grace.

You sing with joy, and your favorite song – on repeat in the car for weeks now – is Ten Thousand Reasons by Matt Redman. You know all the words, and when the tempo picks up in preparation for the chorus you grin and shout, “Here we go mama!” I can’t help but shout the same thing in my heart. Yes, sweetheart, here we go.

It seems like yesterday we were driving down the bumpy back roads late at night from Qingyundian into Beijing. I was so worried we’d get caught in traffic on the way to the hospital… I could see the spectacle in my mind: American women in full-blown labor on a crowded Beijing subway. Some adventures don’t seem worth having. But you told us you were coming in the evening, and we made it to the hospital in about an hour. Our doctor, Amber Chen, was waiting as I came off the elevator. The evening passed in a blur… fitful bits of sleep and worried doctors and talk of dropping heart rates and meconium and the “baby must come now or we will do an emergency c-section.” I was fretful and tired and unsure how it would all work out, and just like that, there you were. “It’s a girl!” Dr. Chen announced. “Are you sure?” I asked. She was. And so I became a mama right there – laying on a hard bed one cold winter morning in downtown Beijing. Here we go.

And we’ve been on a journey, ever since, sweet girl. In some ways, you saved me from myself as we moved back to America. You kept me grounded as I processed the magnitude of leaving China and coming home… a far harder transition than moving there ever was. In those days of uncertainty, you gave me purpose. I found a quiet joy in watching you thrive, after years of being around little ones who weren’t. Parenting is such a challenging journey – partially because just as soon as you get used to one phase, it’s time for something new. But I’ve loved the journey with you, and while I’m particularly enjoying this season where I can have actual conversations with you and hear what you are thinking or feeling, what I wouldn’t give for just one more middle-of-the-night feeding. Our journey is changing sweet girl. You don’t understand, but it’s another one of those seasons where my heart hears the change in the music. Here we go, sweet girl!

You are about to be a big sister. I’m terrified you will hate it but convinced that you’ll love it. I have no doubt you’ll be good at the big sister gig, as long as your little allows you a bit of that “big sister” bossing privilege. But I know it is going to be hard for you. Sharing your toys, your room, your mama, and your daddy. Sharing your puppy and your whole little world. In my heart-of-hearts, I think you will be huge part of showing Alea the way of being in a family. You’ll take her by the hand and wrap her up in your love. You’ll take all that brave, strong, fierce love and you’ll learn what it means to love a sister. Sometimes it might feel like iron sharpening iron, but I believe the two of you will call out all that is best in each other.

Even if you don’t fully understand, I think you know in the deepest part of your heart something is happening. You look at the painting on our wall and tell me you want to ride an airplane to China. You point at the little black-haired-beauty holding your hand in the painting and tell me, “Let’s go get my friend.” My heart swells because you don’t even know what you’re saying, but it is true. We’re going to China again… the land where I first became a mama and you became a daughter. Our feet will hit that soil in just a few months, and our family will go through yet another massive transition. You will become a sister on the same ground where we became a family. Just like your birth, it might hurt and take our breath away sometimes, sweet girl. It’s OK to be scared and uncertain and wondering what the future will hold and how it will all turn out. I am, too. But one thing I know, we are on this journey together.

The music is changing; a new song is coming, and it’s almost time… Here we go, darling.

Here. We. Go.

___________________________

Carrie is an in-process adoptive mama working to bring home her little one from China. She and her husband Jacob spent four years caring for orphans at New Day Foster Home in China, where they also welcomed their daughter Cora. Now, back in the US, Carrie continues to maintain ties to China with her work with Scarlet Threads, a small social enterprise working with artisans in China and Burmese refugees in Texas. Carrie occasionally blogs at her blog, NowHere.

January 8, 2014January 8, 2014

Reflections . . . the first year

It’s hard to believe it has been almost a year since our precious boy walked into our lives that frigid day in Shanghai. I can barely remember life without him. It seems as if he has always been here, and in a sense, he has. God chose him for us before the foundation of the world. He placed Anthony in our hearts before he was even a thought in our finite minds. What a mighty God we serve!

First Photo ever with my new son!

The past year has taken us on an amazing journey far beyond our imaginations. Never in my wildest dreams or fantasies of my future life (of which there have been many) did I ever picture myself adopting an 8 year old boy. When Adam first told me that he wanted Anthony, the fear that rose in me was fierce but stronger yet was the gentle voice of God whispering, “trust Me”.

“‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

neither are your ways my ways,’

declares the Lord.” (Is. 55:8, NIV)

Adoption is all about trust.

Trusting that God will provide a child for you.

Trusting that God will provide the funds you need for the adoption costs.

Trusting that God will protect and love your child while someone else holds them.

Trusting that God will comfort them when they are ripped from the only life they have ever known.

Trusting that God will meld and knit your family together for His glory.

And now, here we sit, one year later . . . still trusting, as each new day brings

More love

More joy

More frustrations

More openness

More peace

More trust.

What an amazing year!

_____________________________________

After struggling with infertility for 5 years, God led Suzanne and her husband, Adam, to His Plan A for their lives—adoption! Their daughter, Grace Lihua, came into their lives on May 8, 2011 (Mother’s Day) from Fuzhou City, Fujian Province, China. And, their son, Anthony Jianyou, joined their family on January 14, 2013 from Shanghai. After a career in politics, Suzanne now works as a part time Pilates instructor while home schooling their children, writing and working as a part of the Sparrow Fund Blog leadership team. You can follow their adoption journey and life on her blog, Surpassing Greatness.

January 6, 2014

Science Questions

Always inquisitive and literal, my four year old looked at me at the end of our meal and asked, “Mom, how can God live in my heart if He is living in heaven?”

“Well, honey, God is everywhere, so He can live in your heart AND in heaven.”

“Even when we go on vacation?”

“Yep, even when we go on vacation. He can be in both places at the same time. That’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?”

Looking puzzled she replied, “Yes, Mom. That’s like a science question.”

To her, a “science question” is a really hard question – a question whose answer is either “I don’t know”, or is too hard to understand. As I pondered our little conversation, I couldn’t help but find so much truth in it.

Ask anyone who has adopted and they will likely tell you that it was during the course of their adoption that they saw God move in powerful, undeniable ways. Those stories are such an encouragement to hear and are readily shared with others.

But most adoptive parents will also tell you that it was during the course of their adoption that they questioned God the most. Why is this so hard, Lord? Why are we hitting yet another road block? Is this the child you would have us adopt? Why are the feelings of love not coming as quickly as I assumed they would? Why did our adoption fall apart? When will the waiting end? How can this be happening?

Hard, faith-testing questions. Questions that often have no earthly answer or explanation.

“Science questions.”

We all have them. And I dare say that those “science questions” are just as important to share as our “success stories”. Sharing our struggles and questions – even unanswered ones – with each other allows us to experience authentic, faith-filled community. You struggle with that? I do, too!

It’s also important to keep approaching God with our questions. He’s big enough to handle our questions. Even our “science questions”. And while He certainly could give us answers, He just may be more interested in having us wrestle with Him over the questions.

Wrestling requires closeness.

Wrestling produces strength.

Wrestling may also cause hurt (as it did when Jacob), but with God it will be a hurt that will serve as a reminder of the holiness of God and the intimacy of your relationship.

So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. … The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel, and he was limping because of his hip.
Genesis 32:24-25, 31

So share those questions with others in your faith-community. Find support and community with others. You are not alone in your questioning. But also approach God with your questions. Wrestle with Him. He longs to draw you closer to him and will use anything He can to get you there.

Even “science questions”.

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18 years in the classroom as a teacher was easy compared to parenting three little ones at home full-time. Through their three daughters, God has revealed Himself most clearly to Stephanie and her husband Matthew. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in mighty ways throughout adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. Nowadays she enjoys encouraging and connecting with other adoptive families through her work on “We Are Grafted In”. You can read more about their family on their personal blog We Are Family.

January 3, 2014

He is There. He is Here

Christmas 2009. Four Christmases ago. I was a wreck. We were so close to finding our new daughter. I just knew it would be a few weeks after Christmas; I hoped it would be a few weeks after Christmas. I was filled with expectation that Christmas.

And, that meant that though I didn’t know who she was or where exactly she was, what she looked like or how old she was, I knew she was. I knew she was somewhere across the world, alone on Christmas, what turned out to be her first Christmas.

I was anxious and wondering and thinking all the time about her. Yet, there was something that gave me great peace.

God was there.

In Luke 2:6-20, Luke mentioned the manger three times. Why?

The manger was messy. It wasn’t what we picture and what our children play with as part of our little nativity sets they can hold in their hands. It wasn’t a symmetrical wooden contraption with a sweet bed of hay. It was more like a box looking thing or basin made out of clay mixed with hay or stones and held together with mud. All kinds of food for animals was put into it, not just nice yellow hay. It was dirty, likely moldy, smelly, not anything we’d want our child anywhere near.

And, God was there. Very literally, God was there.

As spunky and full of life as Lydia is now, there was a time that she was in a pretty messy place. I believe her orphanage was one of the better ones—her needs were met, and we’ve learned that there were quite caring women who took to her there. There was a wall of windows with natural light in the room where she lived 24-7. In that room were 40 cribs and a few toys for all to share to pass their days until they graduated to another room and then another. There were older children in that orphanage too, children we weren’t allowed to see. I wonder what their days were like.

I’ve heard a lot of stories, stories about adopted children who flinch when someone moves their direction in fear that they will be hit; children with flat heads who were never held; children who have come to accept that no one wants to bring home a child their age, only babies; children who suffer significant consequences from not having the medical treatment they needed earlier.

And, yet, I believe God is there.

God is not only not afraid to get his feet dirty; He is about getting His feet dirty. That’s what advent is all about, isn’t it? God coming down, the perfect to the broken, the holy to the unholy.

Psalm 34:18 tells us He’s close to the brokenhearted, and there are so many, so very many. I can only imagine that He is very close indeed to brokenhearted children—here and there—whether they are aware of their brokenness or not. He’s there.

I prayed for our daughter four Christmases ago, that He would be close to her, that He would remain close to her. That He would be tangibly felt in that room where she slept. That He would wrap His arms around her when she was cold. That He’d rock her when she needed comfort. That He’d be in the manger with her.

I know He was there.

And, somehow, in the dark places of orphanages around the world, I can’t explain how or what He always looks like there, but I believe that He’s there. In the warmth of the sun pouring in the windows, He comforted my child. In the smile of a nanny. In the gaze of another orphan. In the provision sent by charities around the world. In her broken heart—emotionally and literally.

Somehow, He was there.

Now, as my children listen to us read about His story every night, sing familiar and unfamiliar words together to prepare, sneak Hershey kisses in their mouths as we make reindeer eyes, and use entirely too much scotch tape on crafts and wrapping paper alike, He is here…and, He is there, somehow making an unholy place, holy.

That’s what advent is about. That’s what He’s about.

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January 2, 2014

waiting

He started making eye contact a few days ago and when that happens, it’s impossible to not fall in love with the little boy whose big eyes stare at me over the bottle day after night after day. I tell him that he’s perfect, that someone is praying for him right now, begging that the next phone call will bring the news that their baby is ready. He grabs my finger and I tell him he’s so strong and that one day, maybe he’ll use that strength to fight for the ones who are waiting for families.

Waiting.

It’s impossible to hold one of these waiting ones or to look into the eyes of the ones I love across the ocean and not think, “Are there children out there waiting – right now – for me?” My friends walk off those airplanes with sons and daughters, beautiful and tall, whose eyes tell a story of long years spent waiting. And I’ve been there – lived there – long enough to witness their waiting. I know the ones who have watched friend after friend walk away with their new family and one of them scoots up next to me and says, “Will my family come next?”

So to keep my heart from breaking and theirs from growing hard, I take their faces in my hands and say it over and over and over. You’re beautiful. You’re loved. You were created on purpose. I tell her that she is loved – that this God she reads stories about is real and He’s a Father to us all, but especially to the ones who wait. I tell him that there are things in life that hurt us and if they hurt us they hurt Him, too. They can talk to Him like a Father.

On Mother’s Day this year, I tiptoed into the hospital nursery and scooped up one of the tiniest ones who was waiting. Just a few weeks later, I got to tell her forever mommy and daddy that I held her that day, told her they were coming, and prayed she would feel safe.

And I pray almost daily that there is someone doing the same for my children who might be waiting out there. I pray that someone is tucking them into a bed at night and kissing their foreheads and treating them with respect. I pray that when they look into the eyes of their caregivers, they see delight and safety reflected there. I pray that if they are alone, He would fill them with an unexplainable confidence that this is not their forever – that someone will come for them.

Isn’t that what our Father did for us? While we were waiting, He made a way for us to know that this is not out forever.

So while they wait for me and I wait for them and this little boy in my arms is waiting for someone else and I’m sure you’re waiting for something, too, let’s cling to the truth that this waiting is not forever and that the Father who planned our lives is good even when the minutes and hours aren’t. He promised.

Maybe your waiting looks different. Maybe you’re waiting for a new job or for a spouse to come home from deployment or for school to start or for your child to attach to you fully or maybe just for the baby to finally fall asleep. If, like me, you just need to be reminded over and over that He is good, pop on over to this littleInstagram space where my friend posts daily lifelines to the Father who keeps His promises.

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Mandie Joy is a foster parent and in-process adoptive mama of two beautiful little girls in Africa. She blogs at www.seeingjoy.com.