Operation Bring David Home

So much in my world has changed in the year and half since my last post. I've given birth to a beautiful baby boy. It was a hard 60 hours of fighting to bring him into the world, but so worth every second. Sweet Rees is wild, adventurous and fearless (except about vacuums, those are terrifying.) He's also super snuggly, and friendly, gives everyone hugs and cries when he has to leave anyone. He plays hard and loves big. He is sunshine and a tornado, at the same time, all the time.

And now we're in process of adopting David from China. What?! Adopting? Didn't we already try that once? Don't we have a baby so we don't have to adopt anymore? Oh my, the crazy questions we have fielded since we told the world we were running hard after our son who just so happens to be on the other side of the world. So here is the story of adoption in our family:

We talked about adopting before we were even married. We wanted bio kids, but we also thought it would be awesome to have adopted kids too. We agreed that local adoption was the way to go. We had our family plan all worked out. So a mere two months after we go married we started trying to get pregnant. 6 years later is when God finally brought our miracle boy into my womb. 6 years of hope, disappointment, questioning, and learning much about the goodness and graciousness of God.

In the midst of that we were asked to consider adopting a beautiful 12 year old girl. We said yes! It started as "get your house ready, she'll be home in less than a week." Then it became "her extended birth family has taken her away, she's in danger." Then later "are you still interested? We know she's almost 14 now, but we can get her home soon." Finally there was the fateful "we wish there was more we could have done." Her birthday is 2 days before our wedding anniversary, and my grief comes right up to the surface for days/weeks before and after. She was mine for a time. She is God's always.

I thought that was it. I was done discussing adoption. My heart hurt too much, I couldn't even dream of going through that again.

Then I was subpoenaed. A student had confided in me, I had fought for her to be protected and years later was required to give account of what I knew. I sat in the waiting room with kids who may not have had one safe person in their world. I came home to my boy in the arms of a dear friend who had spent the entire time I was gone praying for my son and snuggling him. That night I told J I was ready to talk about adopting again. We have a whole community of safe people in our son's life. We have so many people who have wept and rejoiced with us on this journey and love our son not just because of who he is but because of all that he represent in being our first born. There are millions of kids who need one safe person, we have safe people in spades! J looked at me with the sweetest smile and said, "I've been waiting for you to come back around!" What patient, long-suffering love.

Then a few months later I saw a boy on Show Hope's Facebook page. He was beautiful. Three months younger than Rees. I loved him instantly. For a week I said nothing. Then I showed his story to J. And he loved him too. We contacted Show Hope, who suggested we contact an adoption agency they have contact with. We added our names to his "interest list." We went on a date to fill out a "medical conditions checklist," which was us looking up medical conditions we had never heard of, for hours on end, and then deciding if we felt equipped to provide a good home to a child with said medical conditions. Most emotional date ever. We told them that we were willing to wait to hear about this boy. His file hadn't been received from China yet, and we were ok with taking it slow and waiting to see what happened.

And then a job change became available for J. It was a better choice long term for him physically, but a difficult adjustment for us as it meant less income. I decided it wasn't a good time to pursue adoption. We just needed to take ourselves off of that boy's list. But I was sleep deprived, and life got busy, and God had other plans, so never actually did it.

Then the call came. I assumed it was family from Colorado calling, but it was the voice of a kind woman I had never spoken to before. She wanted to know if we would consider adopting an amazing 3 year old boy. I wanted to say that we had other plans, but what came out of my mouth was a request for more information, pictures, his story.  Once we looked at what they sent us, and did some research on his medical needs, we requested updated information. And while we waited for a response, we both individually came to the same realization, we knew he was ours. 

But he wasn't local. We had had an opportunity to adopt some "local" kids and we just knew we had to say no. And this would mess up birth order.  We had it all planned out with this other boy who was younger than Rees, but not by much. And we don't have the money for a quick Starbucks once a month, how on earth could we pay agency fees, and orphanage fees, and home study fees, etc.?

God's ways are not our ways. God's thoughts are not our thoughts.

We have until January to get our dossier to China. My personal goal is November.  I want him to have the best chance at not having another birthday away from his family. I want my boy home. Rees needs an older brother. I need an older son. And we all hope that by some great miracle a younger brother can some day come home too. We have not forgotten the boy who stole our hearts with a smile and started us back on this crazy journey.

And we wait, and fight hard, and run after our David. He is ours. And he is so worth every second.

Six Good Years

Today marks six years of being married to the best man on Earth. Every single one of those six years I have forgotten to give my husband a card, even though he really loves mushy cards. I forget because I'm lame, not because I don't love him. I forget because truly he is way better at remembering important days, and giving good gifts, and finding the sweetest cards, and writing the sweetest notes. He is so romantic, and I am often oblivious.

That said, I thought I would recount what these six years have been, how special he is to me, and how thankful I am for this journey we are on.

We have had six years of sweetness, mostly because of my sweetheart. There has never been a moment when he is too busy to snuggle. If I ever say I need a hug, he is eager to meet that need as quickly as possible. He loves on me, and our puppies, with such carefulness and kindness. He is always a safe place.

But there have also been six years of silliness. Singing at the top of our lungs is usual practice, and silly dance moves often accompany. More than once I have had to leave the room because I am laughing so hard I can't breathe. His laugh lights up my heart, and his silly faces make me cry in the best way possible.

There's been six years of easy things. Sitting together in the car holding hands, not feeling the need to fill silence. Serving with teenagers at church, while difficult at times, is an easy thing for us to do together because we both love them so much and love being together in it. Easy conversations, even when they're about hard things. It's easy to love your best friend.

And six years of hard things. Years of hoping for pregnancy that seemed like it would never come. Years of saying yes to an adoption that eventually fell apart. Struggling to learn to communicate in good and healthy ways. Failing to listen to hearts. Forgetting to prioritize each other. Needing to learn to fight fair. Dealing with his injured back, my food allergies, anxiety, a surprise tumor, chronic pain. Fighting to love when we're heartbroken, tired, grieving, angry, sick, sinful, selfish.

It's been six years of choices. Choosing each other over anyone else. Choosing marriage over pursuing children, over church service, over friends, over extended family, over jobs, over comfort. Choosing paint colors and furniture that we both love. Choosing his needs over my own, him choosing my needs over his own. Choosing to fight for our marriage when it's hard, choosing to encourage when we are both discouraged, choosing joy for the sake of the other heart, choosing hard things because we know they're the right things.

Most precious to me is the six years of faith we have shared together. Mornings spent reading our Bibles together, sharing our hearts, praying for one another. Seasons of heartache when we remind each other of great and precious promises of God that get us through. Moments of confronting sin and selfishness, daily asking for forgiveness, daily forgiving.

It has been the best, hardest, sweetest six years of my life. I have been richly blessed beyond what I could have ever hoped for by this marriage. I can't wait to see what the rest of my life with this precious, romantic, strong, kind, sacrificially-loving man holds.

Glimpses Behind the Curtain

I've heard the teaching pastor at our church talk a couple times about God pulling back the curtain of eternity and letting us see what is going on behind the scenes. I used to think that was only applicable to certain passages in the Bible, but the last few weeks have shown me that it can be day to day life too.

I got a call from my neurologist yesterday. He said all of the results from the other tests he had ordered were back, everything is normal. Brain MRI - clean. 13 vials of blood - all normal. Then he says "sometimes you just get lucky." The Carotid Doppler he ordered is what found the tumor. Apparently he doesn't remember why he ordered it, because usually he doesn't. All I could hear in my heart when he said that was, "you're not lucky, you are loved by the Creator of all things!"

When I sat in the surgeon's office scheduling my surgery I was the surprised that they were getting me in for surgery less than a week after my first appointment with him. The scheduler said that once I've waited so long to see the doctor they work hard to get me in ASAP for surgery. I asked how far out he was scheduled - a month and a half. They had called me the day before to schedule me. "Oh, I remember talking to the lady who was scheduling you. It was so bizarre, we had 3 cancellations in a row while she was on the phone with you! I couldn't believe you were going to come in the next day!" My heart leapt at the hand-print of God all over that.

I was referred to a different surgeon initially, but he is out of the country. My neurologist "just happened" to talk to an intern in his office group who recommended the new surgeon. While I was waiting to hear back from the neurologist I had a conversation with a lady at church who warned me that the first surgeon had terrible bedside manner when she saw him. "He's a good surgeon, just not great with people, so just go in expecting that and you'll be fine." The second surgeon was really nice, and everyone in the office spoke very highly of him. And my friend James works at the hospital with him, says he's an excellent surgeon, and James will be working on the day after my surgery when I'm in recovery. I was so panicked that I couldn't get in with the first surgeon, now it seems so obvious that I should be with the second surgeon instead.

Every Mother's Day since I've been married has been difficult. We go to a church that is chock full of babies, and completed adoptions, and child dedications on Mother's Day feel like a punch in the gut to me. I prayed that I would have joy this year, instead of jealousy. That morning I woke up with an unexpected smile. At church dear friends who have had several miscarriages sat next to us on their first Sunday back at church since their beautiful baby boy was born. This was her first Mother's Day with her son, and all I could think of was the kindness of God to bring this boy into this precious little family that I adore! It was still a difficult day, but the old bitterness and jealousy just wasn't there.

Story after story, big and small, God has pulled the veil back so that I can see his fingerprints in every corner of my life. I have had many times in my life that I have prayed and ached to see an answer. And sometimes those answers are "no" or "wait" or "someday" kind of answers. My heart easily loses faith, wonders if God is listening, if he cares, if we're in this alone. And then every once in a while, he lets me see his miracles all around me. And I rejoice, not in the miracles, but in the One who spoke the miraculous into existence.

Grace upon Grace

Remember this - had any other condition been better for you than the one in which you are, divine love would have put you there. - Spurgeon

Grace is in every crack and crevice of my life. It's like water, always finding a way in, always working down deeper into places in my heart I didn't even know were vulnerable. Then as my heart gets cold, the grace expands, cracks me open, and makes more room for grace. And every once in a while I get moments where I can look back and see it in every breath along the way.

I got married later than I thought I would. It wasn't in my timeline to get married at 26. And I almost married the wrong man because I was so desperate to not be single anymore. I chose all the wrong men for me, and stumbled through relationships that pummeled my heart with impermanence.

BUT God chose someone better for me. And God prepared him to be my husband. And God knit our hearts together in miraculous ways that only God can.

I used to beg God for pregnancy. Every month I would weep with the confirmation that once again I did not have life growing in my belly. I read about barren women in the Bible with profound understanding. I got their urgency and desperation. I got their willingness to do whatever it took, even things outside of what God told them to do. It made sense to me. The ache made me bitter. Was God punishing me for some earlier indiscretions in my life? Did he make my body broken just to mess with me and make my marriage harder? Oh, the bitterness of my heart!

BUT God knew there would come a day when I couldn't take care of myself. God knew there would be days when my husband would carry me to bed like a child because I couldn't move. God knew what was coming, and in his mercy didn't give me children.

I was sure with everything in me that we were adopting a beautiful 12 year old girl. I knew she was mine. I prepared her room, and my heart for her imminent arrival. I waited with joy and hope. Then things got complicated. And we heard conflicting stories. And she turned 13, then 14. And we finally had to face to truth, she wasn't coming home. I took her beautiful bed apart and it felt like my heart came apart in big chunks as well. I struggled with the goodness of God. I know that God is sovereign, but I had to preach to myself that God is good. It just didn't make sense! There are too many unanswered questions. There is still the place in my heart that loves a girl I will never meet.

BUT God knows intimately every breath of my life, and has planned them all perfectly for my good because of the great love with which he has loved me. He knows I have questions that may never have answers in my lifetime, but he lets me ask them anyway. He knows how my heart aches for children, and has blessed me with dozens of kids who are so woven into my heart I rejoice in their every triumph, and weep over their broken hearts. And yet I don't have to care for them every moment of every day.

And now I have doctors telling me there is a tumor growing in my neck. It's messing with my nerves, and disrupting blood flow, and generally wreaking havoc. I sat in a room waiting for a woman to deliver bad news to me, and the immediate outpouring of my heart was "Jesus, I trust you." I laid in the MRI tube trying not to panic, and God caused me to remember his attributes, who he is to me, and my heart became so peaceful I was able to sleep. I struggle to swallow and God reminds me of  sweet little boy I know who has trouble swallowing for totally different reasons, and I pray for him. My heart starts to worry about the future, and surgery, and tumor location, and then I hear my voice singing "Great is Thy Faithfulness" without my even thinking to do so.

This is grace upon grace.

God has given me the husband he made for me to comfort, protect, guide, and pray for me. When I am afraid, he reminds me that God is my refuge and strength. When he is afraid, I can remind him that God is good, and sovereign. We're on this road together, hand in hand.

Sweet grace.

In times when my hands are numb, or my legs won't work, I thank God that I don't have babies to hold, or toddlers to chase. When I realized I shouldn't drive in the afternoons, I thanked God that I didn't have kids to pick up from school. My heart still aches for kids in my home, but I am so comforted by God's perfect timing. And my sweet church kids give me hugs on Sundays, and send me emails that they are praying for healing and trust in God for me, and bring laughter to my heart.

Precious grace.

I'm more forgetful than ever right now, but God brings to mind songs I learned as a child that are Bible truth. Scripture I didn't even know I had memorized pops into my head and just the right moments of desperation. Friends text me reminders of God's love and faithfulness right in the midst of my fearfulness. All the added stresses and fears that I pile on my weak heart, God lays on the hearts of sweet friends to take care of for me. Others are bearing burdens for me in real and tangible ways.

Inexplicable grace.

Undeniable grace.

Pervasive grace.

Grace upon grace.

Enough

Two days ago we had an inevitable meeting with our adoption agency. Inevitable in that we spent months praying that this was not the meeting we were going to have. Inevitable in that the lady we met with seemed to have already reached the same conclusion we had, but just wasn't interested in making the first move. This meeting marked the end of our adoption process for our daughter.

We got an email several months ago that should have told us to just give up, run for the hills, stop hoping. Yet, we decided to not make any hasty decisions, to pray before leaping, to let our tempers settle. We waited. And prayed. And knew in our hearts that it was time to walk away. The hanging on of hope was just crushing our hearts. We are broken, and angry, and becoming more so every day. Our daughter has slipped through our hands and we are looking into the abyss hoping we can reach her and pull her back. It is time to stop grasping at the whistling wind of false hope.

Finality lingers in my empty hands.

I keep finding myself standing somewhere, staring into nothing. I'm emptying the dishwasher, then just stop, like someone hit pause on my life, and then eventually I blink and have to look around to remind myself what I was doing. I have no idea how long I stand frozen in time, I'm just lost for a time, then I come back to reality.

There is a depth of loss in my heart that is inexpressible. Sometimes it is just a still pool within me that I avoid looking at because seeing the aching of my soul reflected in it is too much to bear. Sometimes it is tsunami waves covering me with no hope of making the surface before I drown.

I know that my anchor is the hope, the truth, that God is faithful. I know that just as I feel the depths covering me over that he brings me once again to the surface with his breath of life. I know that as my heart starts to harden to stone, he warms it with the light of his truth to get it moving again. I know that my standing before him doesn't change, even when I'm broken on the floor crying.

Questions sit in corners, waiting to be addressed. We stare each other down and agree to let things rest for now. I can't think about the future, I'm having a hard enough time remembering to shower, or eat, or kiss my husband.

Oh my sweet husband. The strongest, kindest man I've ever known, weeping in my arms. As much as my heart aches, it aches so much more because his heart aches. If I could, I would bear the weight of grief for both of us, just so I would never have to clear tears from his perfect face again. I know I couldn't make it through this alone, but I also know I couldn't do this with anyone else. My heart is so intertwined with his that words don't even need to be said. I see the tears quiver on the edge of his eyelashes and I know it all.

And then I am reminded that God loves me infinitely more than all of that. And he is near, indwellingly near, to my broken heart. And that is enough.

LOVE

We got a call about a month ago that sent our emotions reeling. Our daughter is alive, safe, and there is again potential for her to come home. All we had to do is say "yes." And even though I know that she is still my daughter, I was scared. I feel like we've been on a roller coaster for over a year, and I just didn't know if my heart could take one more major climb with the potential for another major drop. I was afraid to hope.

But I know that she is mine. Is there potential to have our hearts broken further? Yep. Even if she does come home there is no promise of reciprocated love. There isn't even a promise that she will be stable enough for us to be able to provide the best care for her. She could be a huge ball of emotion, and hurt, and fear, and regression, and chaos. But I look at her picture and my heart aches with love that is overwhelmingly inexpressible. She is mine. I love her. I may be scared of what me loving her looks like, but that doesn't make my love for her go away.

With shaking hearts and quiet voices we said that we were in. With good reason, people tried to talk us out of this. But she is ours, whatever the cost of comfort, reputation, heartache, security, peace. She is ours, forever and ever.

Then a month passed with conflicting impressions of what we should do. And communication is spotty at best. And we live attached to our phones and computers, waiting to hear anything. Expecting to travel any day. Hoping to travel before her birthday. Knowing it was becoming less likely with each day that ticked by. I try not to be angry with my husband when he looks practically at things and tells me it's a pretty slim chance that we will have her home before her 14th birthday.

Hope feels foolish. It's stepping out into a cloud filled sky trusting that a thin piece of fabric and a couple cords will keep you from being destroyed by gravity.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick... - Prov 13:12

My heart is sick from hoping. I hope that she will come home soon. I hope for a call that it's time to make travel plans. I hope for favor with random bureaucrats who have the ability to tell us we aren't her parents. I hope that decision isn't made arbitrarily. I hope for her heart to be healed. I hope for the chance to be a good mom. I hope to some day tell her how much my heart has ached for her. I hope for a day when she will know I am her momma just as surely as I know she is my baby.

On the good days, my faith is shaky. I know all the right answers, but I hurt, and I doubt, and waves of fear threaten to cover me completely. I know that I love her, not because I chose to but because that's what God made me for. I know that I hope for her to come home not because it's easy, but because God made my heart for this. I now know why God made me with this intense, insane love that just splashes out uncontrollably sometimes. How else could I look at a picture of a beautiful girl and know that she is mine and love her with every ounce of my heart? I know now why I hope for extraordinary, impossible things that others think are foolish. How else could I hope for my daughter to come home with just the slightest bit of shift in that direction? Even as I want to give up on this impossible dream, I cry out for more hope for a miracle. I beg for more faith that God is working out his plan, to give me a future AND hope.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. - 1 Corinthians 13:13

It's a Psalm 23 Kind of Day

Grief is a hard thing to define. If you've never experienced it you don't get it. People around you grieve at the loss of a loved one, or are broken over infertility, or their marriage has ended: you name it, people are grieving. But if you have never had the aching of your soul as a result of loss you will never get it. You may think that people need to move on. You may be concerned that they have severe mental illness. You may even think that quoting Bible verses (out of context and not from experience) is the answer because then at least you're saying something, and it's from the Bible so it must be good.

Grief can look a lot like depression, anger, anxiety, selfishness, bitterness. And it can turn into those things and more if it's avoided. It is a place of great loneliness, longing for something you will never have. It is a wilderness that tests your faith, that changes the facets of your soul, that adds depth to everything you thought you knew, and takes away a lot of your preconceived notions. It can at times feel like a vast emptiness, and at other times leave you so full of emotion that you are without words to express the weight of your heart. It comes gushing forth, often at inconvenient or embarrassing times. It can lie dormant for a long time, just waiting for your guard to be down so that it can pounce again on the rubble of your heart.

Everything in me cries out, "This is not how it's supposed to be!" While sometimes it feels like the cry of a petulant child seeking a selfish sense of justice, it often is from a heart that knows it was not made to deal with this. I don't know how to deal with the loss of my daughter. Nothing in my previous experience prepared me for loving a child I have never met. Nothing on Earth can explain why my heart chose to love this specific child; why she is ever with me. It doesn't make sense! I know in my heart that she is mine, yet there is no moment in time when I can say, "That's it! That's when she became mine. That's when I knew." She has always been mine, and will always be, even though she may never know it.

But it's exhausting to deal with a broken heart. There is a deep weariness of soul that comes with grief. Most days I get out of bed and trudge through the waist-deep mud of heartache as if it's normal. Some days it is neck-deep or higher and there is a sense of heart drowning. These are the days when I desperately cry out to God for mercy. Come save me! Rescue me from this deep ocean of brokenness!

And God is ever faithful. He brings the healing salve of his Word to my wounded soul. He gives my husband the words to speak life in the desert. He causes others to carry the burden for a while so that I can rest. He reminds me to take refuge in him, to trust him, to let him lead me as the Good Shepherd of my wandering heart. He is always kind, and gentle with the broken pieces of my heart.

May there be a day when I can proclaim with the Psalmist - Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Oh sweet Lord, let it be so!

Watch and pray

Final chapter of the 7 read-along with Marla and friends. Like all of her other chapters, Jen Hatmaker does a fine job of blowing my expectations out of the water in this chapter on Stress. Did I expect her to ACTUALLY observe the Sabbath? Nope. Did I expect 7 sacred pauses? Nope. Did I expect God to wreck my heart last night during the Night Watch? ummm, no. Did I SO need this chapter? Yep.

Thank you mighty Creator of the Universe for making Jen Hatmaker just so, and gifting her in such ways that you can work in my heart through her words. I know she is a mere human being, but I am thankful for her messy, beautiful ministry.

Confession time. When I was younger I wanted to be a nun. I went to Catholic school for 4 years, even though my family is not Catholic, and in those 4 formative years I developed a strong affinity for liturgy and for nuns. I still observe Lent and Advent, not because anyone I know observes them, or because I come from a church tradition of such observations, but because my heart longs for periods of focused reflection on the Holy. I love being purposefully liturgical in our morning family worship, and enjoy seeing the unspoken liturgy of a Sunday church service at our non-denominational, Baptist-rooted-with-Presbyterian-leanings church. I was very upset when my parents laughed at my dream of becoming a nun, all I wanted to do is grow up to sing and pray all day. I know, that's not all that nuns do, but the only other thing I knew they did is teach and I didn't want to do that. Ironic because I teach teenagers every week. I also thought nuns were married to priests for a while, but was firmly set in my place by Sister Carol on that matter. (I will have you know, not all nuns are the sweet ladies from Sound of Music and Sister Act.)

I say all that to say that this chapter resonated in my heart. It brought up all those longings to sing and pray all day, longings I had laughed off as childish dreams. I don't think that 7 sacred pauses is much different from the intent behind God's command to the people regarding the covenant, for it to be ever before them and on their lips. It is no coincidence that God reminds his people throughout the entire Bible to remember his covenant, his character, his goodness now and throughout all generations.We are forgetful people, but he created order to help us remember. What a great and gracious God that he helps us in our weakness!

Here's the other part of the confession that I left out. I am terrible at praying. I am a "quick shout out while I'm thinking about it" or a "times are tough, so God I'm begging for help here" kind of pray-er. I am least often a "be still and know that I am God" pray-er. If it was my chosen vocation to pray 7 times a day I would go bonkers within a week because I am too distracted in times of prayer. Thank the Lord that he knew better!

"My prayers include rogue parenthetical thoughts:" yeah me too Jen. Me too. I love praying for people, but seriously can't go beyond about 4 sentences before I forget why I'm praying and have to look at my email again. I am of the MTV generation, and my attention span is evidence of that. I completely understand the need for "the bell" I would never remember to stop and pray if I didn't have an awkward physical reminder. (Lord, why don't I have an iPhone? I would pray so much better if I did! - yes, I admit I had that dumb thought. Then I realized my "dumb" phone could do that many alarms too.)

So, about the Night Watch. Take Day 6 (Jen's friend Jenny praying for the oppressed) and add in Day 14 (Jen's crying out for her adoptive kiddos) and that would be Night Watch for me last night. I have talked about this in depth already so I'll spare you the details and give you the quick version: we thought we were adopting a 13 year old girl, then everything fell apart. Ugly thorns and thistles have sprouted up in the beautiful garden of love for my daughter in my heart. So I read this chapter, turned off the light and just laid there. I tried to sleep, but God had different plans. I cried out for my daughter for hours. I have not prayed like that maybe ever. There was a moment when I was out of tears, and I raised my head to get some tissue and realized it was after midnight. God took my heart through the Night Watch on behalf of my baby. I may never know why God took me on this journey. I do know that at 1:00 am I prayed through the aspects of the Lord's Prayer with a deeper understanding than I had ever before. I was praying to my Father, who has infinitely greater love for me than I could ever fathom having for my daughter.

Marla asked that we share 2 things, and I would like to end on that note.

1. What’s something you feel burdened to pray about today?

I need to ask God what his plans are for my life. I want to just shut down, live just how I am now for the rest of my life, but I feel tugging in my heart for something more, greater purpose, harder but better things. I know that tugging is the Holy Spirit, so I need to ask, and be willing to hear the answer. I feel like that's a selfish answer, but at the same time feel like I have shut down any contemplation of the future as a result of the present being so hard that I just need to buck up and actually seek God for direction.

2. What’s something causing you stress that you could use prayer for today?

I have chronic pain. There are good days (2-4 on a pain scale of 1-10) and there are bad days (7-9) but there are no pain free days. This is not a new thing in my life, but has been at least a 20 year battle between my body and soul that has become more heated with age. I am hesitant to tell people of the current diagnosis because everyone either tells me I'm looney or tells me that Western medicine is a joke. (Both may be true but that doesn't help me right now.) The real point of stress in all this is that I need more rest than I am willing to give myself most days. The bad days I spend all day feeling guilty for not doing more, and the good days I drive myself so hard that I pay for it the next day. I need balance. I need to stop comparing myself to every other 30-something woman I know. I need to find real rest in Jesus.

Maybe I need to institute the sacred pauses to realign my priorities.

What's my motivation?

Another week with Marla and friends in the lovely read-along of 7, or as I like to call it, "What's your motivation?" Everything I read in Month 6: Spending, was affirming, gut-kicking, and a reminder to my heart to focus on the heart of the matter. It's so easy to read the chapter and think that she's just talking about money, but truly, sweet Jen Hatmaker shoots straight to the heart of the gospel and what our lives can/should/need to look like in response. I am thankful for her constant reminders to be more like Jesus and less like "normal".

Even as much as I loved this chapter, I also am having a hard time seeing the immediate applicability of what I gained through reading. That's not true, I see it, but I don't really want to think about it, or apply it. Honestly, I prayed this morning a prayer that looks a lot like Psalm 13, among others. I am weary. This weekend we had what felt like the final conversation with our adoption agency about our daughter. Our hearts ache for the child who will never make it home. Agreeing that she is un-adoptable felt like an acquiescence to the truth we already knew rather than a decision we had to make. I sent out our final adoption update email, then took my dog to the vet to find out that he probably has cancer and needs surgery. This comes on the heels of finding out my body is more broken than I thought it was. And my husband's grandfather dying, and family drama surrounding that. And our youth minister leaving soon to pursue another ministry opportunity, which means the ministry is falling in our laps. And, and, and, and....

It's too much! I feel a lot less like Job saying "Though he slay me, yet will I trust him" and a lot more like "God why do you keep giving me breath?! Why won't you slay me?!"

But do I go to God to comfort my aching? No. I go to Starbucks, Target, Chick-fil-A, Talbots, JoAnns, Amazon and anywhere else I can get that temporary high of "owning" something. I feel so in control in my out of my control life when I can buy something all my own. I know that purchasing is a drug to me. Yet I struggle during times of wanting (emotionally, spiritually) with what is a want and what is a need, physically speaking.

I think I need new clothes, considering I'm still wearing the things that fit me 30-50 pounds ago. But when I go to the store and buy something I get a little sick at the thought of what better use of my money I could have come up with than a pair of pants that doesn't fall off. I want to buy a reasonably priced scooter to save us a ton of money on gas, but then I think about the added costs of a safety course, helmet, riding jacket, etc. and then I feel like it's just me trying to spend money to make myself feel better. And on and on it goes. I know I am in the middle of a life desert, and I know when in this kind of phase I am a purchasing self-soother, and all this knowledge just makes me suspicious of every thought and action. What is my motivation?

Am I saying in my heart the things Jen Hatmaker lists on Day 8 as justification?

• It's no big deal.
• I can afford this.
• I've worked hard for my money, so I can spend it how I want.
• I want this, back off.
• I deserve this.**
• Other people spend way more.*
• I still have money in the bank.
• What's the big deal?

( * Jen's excuse of choice. ** Danielle's excuse of choice followed by a tantrum about how hard everything is right now.)

Sometimes the "What's my motivation?" is self-condemnation. Sometimes it is the still small voice of the Holy Spirit reminding me that I am not to be conformed to this world. Rather I am to be transformed by the renewing of my mind. As I practice this transformation, like a newborn calf testing it's legs, I learn how to discern what is the perfect will of God.

I think it's time to re-read Romans again.

The other side of the I deserve it justification is giving. We give to the church. We give to church plants. We give to missionaries. We give to local outreaches. We give to friends who are adopting. We give and give and give. Why shouldn't I take what's left and do whatever I want? How easily I forget that it's all God's, not just the parts I feel led to give away. That he gives any to me to steward is out of his sheer kindness. It is not because I deserve to be able to live comfortably, it is so that I can be a broken clay vessel pouring out his goodness to others. This pouring out doesn't look like drops in the bucket here or there. It looks like walking another mile when only one is required. It is not only giving my extra coat away to someone in need but also giving the shirt off my back. It is the continual, repetitive laying down of my life, money, talents.

And this laying down should not ever be so that I can look like the Pharisees Jesus rebuked who prayed loudly in the street blocking the entrance to the temple, and helped those in need only when people were watching, and changed the meaning of the law to make their lives look better. Oh Lord forgive me for the times, more often than not, that this is what it looks like for me to love my neighbor. It looks great on the outside, but my heart is ugly.

Oh! to be like Thee, blessed Redeemer
This is my constant longing and prayer.
Gladly I'll forfeit all of earth's treasures,
Jesus, Thy perfect likeness to wear.

How I long for this simple hymn to be true in my heart!

The End

For those of you out there interested in our adoption journey but not on our email list, here is the final email.

Hello family and friends!

Thank you so much for your prayers and support through our adoption journey. It is with heavy hearts that we send this update, and it will probably be the last update we send. After months of prayer, consulting with our agency, and consulting with trusted friends who know a lot about adoption, we believe at this time that our daughter is not adoptable.

In our last official update we let you know that she had been asked to stay with her biological family as her mother is dying of cancer. We have not heard anything since then. Because we know she is with her family, our belief is that she will more than likely stay with her family. While we remain open to adopting her in the future if her situation changes, we have had to acknowledge that it is highly unlikely that we will ever hear anything again about our daughter.

Our hearts are broken at the loss of our daughter. We knew there were risks involved in pursuing this adoption, as there are in almost all adoptions, but we chose to love this girl. For us, she will always be ours in our hearts, and we will not cease to pray for her. We pray that she is safe, loved, and cared for. We pray for healing and reconciliation in her family. We pray most importantly that she will hear the gospel of Jesus Christ and come to believe in him for salvation, redemption, and spiritual adoption. Will you join us please in praying for this one precious life?

As for us, we don't know what our next step will be. We are hoping to spend some time pressing more into God, caring more for each other's hearts, and ministering always to "our kids" at church. Thank you all again for your partnerships in our journey.  Your thoughts, prayers, and kind words have been such an encouragement to us.

Love!

Danielle and JJ

Flashy Things and My Heart

Linking again with Marla for the read-along. This week, 7: Media. I walked into this chapter feeling so good about myself. I believe smug would be the appropriate word. Our house is QUIET, and I like it that way. We have a friend who lives with us off and on (she's a bit of a vagabond, but we love her) and the biggest shock to my system when she's with us is the constant noise. Between music, TV shows, talking, singing, etc. I have days when my sinful heart can't wait for her to leave for school or work.

We cancelled our cable almost 2 years ago for financial reasons and realized shortly after how good it was to not be plugged into TV, DVR, and the constant consumerism flashing at us in 2 minute or less chunks. We almost never watch live TV, and have recently started taking family walks every night before plugging into something from Netflix. My husband's job is physically and mentally taxing, so sometimes he needs to just sit and stare at what I affectionately call "flashy things." My thorn in the flesh causes good days and bad days: I have super productive days when my house is super clean by the end, and days when the most productive thing I do is power through half a season of a TV show (thank you, Netfilx Instant!) Neither of us have smart phones, and the only reason we have unlimited texting is because our teenagers only communicate with 160 characters or less. Yep, I was smug coming into this chapter. Jen Hatmaker (and the Holy Spirit) can't touch me, I've got every excuse covered, I can power through without even blinking.

But as I read this book aloud in the car while my sweetie was driving us home from his grandfather's funeral I got a lot more than I expected from this chapter. Yes we read aloud to each other. We get that we're weird, there's no need to point it out. We are more than occasionally old fashioned 30 year old's and we're ok with that.

It was all fun and games, laughing it up at that crazy Hatmaker family until I got to Day 15. Jen starts talking to her former self in an encouraging torrent of "this is who you are, but this is is who you are becoming" and "don't lose heart" and "focus on the Kingdom." Oh my heart needed that. But most of all my heart needed to hear this:

Self-hatred is not appropriate when God reveals a new angle. That is not the way of Christ, who abolished condemnation under the banner of grace. The wise responder humbly receives truth, allows it to supersede the version he or she is holding, and adjusts. This progression is not cause for shame but gratitude; thankful God never leaves us where we are but draws us into a richer faith. ...I don't even know what I don't know. - p. 109

I had a very rebellious few years after I graduated from high school and before I met my husband. By a few I mean almost a decade of doing everything possible to run as far away from all that I knew to be true. I put myself in so many dangerous and foolish situations that I laid in bed last night crying, thanking God that he preserved my life. He very much brought me up from the pit and redeemed my life from destruction. I often look back at those years with shame and heartache and the things I lost, the mistakes I made, the riches I squandered chasing after everything that is temporary and vain. I read Ecclesiastes and feel sometimes like maybe I could have written it, I grasped at the wind!

BUT GOD!

God promised me, his child, that there is only grace in Christ. It is no longer me who lives my life, but Christ in me. The only thing sweeter than that is death. I am not my own, I was bought with the price of Jesus' blood. Propitiation has been made for all of my wanderings and failings. All of those old things have passed away, my LIFE has been made new.

Thank you Lord for using my sister Jen to remind me of the truth of the gospel in my life.

So I keep reading, and Day 26 is another needed kick in the head.

Back story: When my husband and I have morning worship together we have a time when we ask each other "How's your heart?" We often forget to ask this question of each other, so we for now are forcing it for the sake of it becoming habit in our relationship, and for it to become natural worship to God to care for each other. It helps us love each other better, and pray for each other better, and sometimes it's just good to know that another human being knows where our heart is at day to day. The particular day we read 7 together we had a long "How's your heart?" time because we were in the car for 7 hours with nothing to do but talk to each other or listen to the radio. Our hearts are in about the same place for once. There is a lot of tension in our lives, many things floating in the air without answers and we are trying to figure out which thing is what God wants for us. My poor husband has the hard job of leading our family right now in following Christ when there is just enough light for half a step in the direction we're supposed to go. It's just plain hard and exhausting right now.

Enter Day 26. I could quote the ENTIRE day because I cried while reading it to my husband. But I won't. I'll just quote the part that brought hopeful tears:

the story of God's people comprises a billion little moments when an average believer pressed on, carried through, stepped up. In the quantity of ordinary obedience, the kingdom truly advances.

I was ready to feel so self-justified as I read this chapter. Instead I was reminded over and over that I am only Christ-justified.

Beans, Rice, and Perspective

Here I am with Marla for the first week of the 7 read along. FOOD. This chapter felt so familiar to me. God has taken me through my own food journey for the last year and half, and I could so relate with what Jen Hatmaker had to say (both the "I can't take it anymore" and the "wow God.")

My body has always been weird. I have a multitude of reminders that I have a broken body because of a broken world, but the one that could have explained a vast majority of those issues is that I have extreme food allergies. Unfortunately, 30 years ago no one was testing babies, toddlers, young children for food allergies, unless they had an obvious reaction. My momma always fed us pretty healthy food, very little packaged stuff, minimal ingredients, low sugar and fat content. All the stuff we are supposed to have. I was allergic to most of it and had no clue. I felt nauseated after eating at almost every meal for as long as I can remember. I have major sugar spikes and drops that seem to be random. I had behavioral issues, concentration issues, and constantly was alternating between ok and sick. These were all seemingly unrelated, but new research shows that many of them can be connected to constantly being exposed to foods you are allergic to. Rather than having one major reaction I was having hundreds of little ones that were piling up.

A year and a half ago I finally ended up at an allergist's office as a last resort. They did the prick test for quite a few things (75+) and I experienced my first taste of anaphylaxis. My husband had to be called at work to come take me home 2 hours later once they felt my blood pressure had normalized. I walked into the allergist's office knowing 1 food I was allergic to. I walked out with a list of 10 things to eliminate from my diet immediately. I didn't even know what to eat for dinner that night. My entire world turned upside down. How had I made it this far in my life without any awareness that I was slowly killing myself?

I was confronted with my own mortality months before my 30th birthday, and it took me weeks to get over the shock of it. I was in a very miry pit of despair, and had only salad and chicken to comfort my broken heart. Every new thing I tried to make came out as a disaster at least once. My husband is still convinced that a particular brand of rice noodles is actual rice glued together in noodle shapes and if you cook it too long the glue melts and you end up with a hearty ground turkey sauce over rice rather than spaghetti. I didn't have snack food anymore. Shopping took me at least twice as long because I had to read every ingredient on the package. More than once I walked out of the grocery store crying, abandoning my cart half full of awful tasting food on an aisle, because I just couldn't take the constant reminders of what I couldn't have. The final straw was when I went down the anaphylaxis road again after partaking in Lord's Supper. This is a commanded grace that I can no longer have, surely God had to have planned for this way back when Jesus broke the bread!

I got tired of people trying to relate to me by telling me how hard it is to find quality organic fruit. I was hurt more than once by someone who argued that allergies were all in my head and I just needed to rise above. I felt so alone when with friends or family because every meal revolved around people asking me what I couldn't have at the meal, and then telling me how good that banned substance was. I lost 40 pounds in 6 months, mostly because I was not even coming close to meeting basic dietary needs on a daily basis. People would invite us to dinner, I would tell them about my food restrictions and suddenly they would forget to call to schedule dinner. I tried to send recipes to friends and family, post successful meals to Facebook, bring things to potlucks with every ingredient written down, make bread for the entire church so that I could participate in Lord's Supper. Since I tend to live life full force that's what I did with this new-found issue. I was on my own personal crusade to educate everyone I knew about food allergies and tell them how to treat people with food allergies better.

But God had bigger plans than me making sure that everyone knew I was dying on my cross of food allergies. I started to realize how wasteful I was being with the abundance of food I was turning my nose up at because it wasn't what I was used to. Rather than complain that I had to eat yet another rice and bean meal, God made me aware of the millions of lives that would treasure beans to add to their rice, if they even had rice. I saw absolute joy in the eyes of a couple people I gave grocery bags full of food that I had to take out of my pantry. People I love who were struggling to put food on their tables and I didn't even know it until I gave them a bag of noodles. A friend confided in me that she was so thankful for bread that I gave her; her dinner the night before had been a scoop of peanut butter and a scoop of jelly out of the jar because she couldn't afford bread and that's all she had left in the house. People I hugged at church and told them I loved them were going hungry. While I complained about another batch of brownies that tasted awful, I forgot to invite people to dinner. People who would have been happy with any disaster meal I made were being neglected because I was too busy talking to listen. I realized that there are people in my city who have to eat food they are allergic to because that's the only kind of food they have at the local food bank. Starving people all around me and all I could think about was how hungry I was!

And in my hunger God gave me Romans 8. This has been the anthem of my heart for almost 2 years. I am not condemned because I am set free IN Christ. If I live according to what my flesh wants I die, but if I live according to what the Spirit wants for me I live. I am an adopted child of God, and part of my inheritance in the Kingdom is suffering. But I'm not alone in my suffering, Christ suffered, and all of creation groans for final redemption! The Spirit knows what is in my heart and intercedes for me when I am without words to go on. All of these things are being used to conform me into the image of Christ. I was chosen specifically for this life. But in everything I am sure of one thing, NOTHING can separate me from the love of God.

Not even food allergies.

I have truly experienced hunger, and it makes my heart ache for others. Lord thank you for beans and rice... and perspective.

Mercy hiding in plain sight

Starting in on another read along with Marla, my heart is in a bad place. The book is 7 by Jen Hatmaker, and judging by the intro I think I will be exceptionally challenged by this book. It's not that I think I have an issue with excess in many areas of my life per se, more that I know my heart is wicked and twisted and even my non-excess is excess wrapped in self-righteousness. Romans 7:24 seems to be my refrain lately.

Marla invited us to do several things in this first week, and while I would feel more comfortable doing anything else, I think sharing my "right now" story is really what's best. Since my heart is in a bad place I think it best to just bear it out so that I can hopefully be more willing for God to work through this read along.

I doubt the mercy of God. My heart breaks to even admit that. I know that God is good, faithful, wise, holy, righteous, powerful. I preach God's mercy to our students at church, but in my heart, in my life, I fail to see it. I have come to a point of feeling like all God does is strip me down, he leaves nothing stable, nothing secure, nothing good. I've even started fearing that he will strike my husband dead because he isn't merciful enough to let me have that one good thing.

All of this is blasphemy. O Lord of glory, forgive my wretchedness, save me from myself.

The Lord gives AND the Lord takes away, I will bless his name.

I don't know why God put in my heart an overwhelming desire for children. I have no children. Even as I think that my students are stand in children, and love them passionately, I know they are not mine. The daughter I know is mine may never come home, in fact my heart is pretty sure of that fact. I sat with several moms of our students on Sunday while they chatted about life. One came to join the group and started asking questions about schools, going around the circle to let every mom have a chance to say the schooling choices for her kids. When she got to me she said something flippant which I know was just to move on to the next person, but it cut deep into my heart. In that moment I knew I was not part of the group, and I wondered if I ever would be.

I have two kinds of friends, the ones who are my age or older and have multiple children, and the ones who have no kids but are so much younger than me that I feel like I'm mentoring them. Both groups are far too busy to spend much time on friendship, and I am left in a no man's land of loneliness. Most days it's just easier to stay home, or go out and interact with strangers as I run my errands, than to reach out to the people God has placed in my life. I'm tired of pursuing friendships that no one has time for. I'm tired of trying to find commonalities with people who know they have very little in common with me. I'm tired of being lonely.

Then God gives me days where this is on repeat in my head all day long:
Let every man be considered a liar
If he doubts the goodness and faithfulness of God- Josh Garrels

And it hits me smack between the eyes: I have spent so long wallowing in self-pity, self-gratification, self-justification, self-(everything else) that I have begun to believe lies about God. There is so much more that God needs to strip away from me, the fact that he hasn't is evidence of his mercy.

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

13

Yesterday you turned 13. I made you cupcakes. And I cried, A LOT.

I thought of the 13 years you have lived. I thought of the many losses you have felt. I thought of all the times you have been betrayed, abandoned, used. I thought of the fact that I don't even know the tip of the iceberg of any of these things in your life. I tried to pray for you, but there weren't even words to ask God for blessing for you. I wanted to say so many things that I couldn't say any. I don't know if you were even aware it was your birthday, and I almost hope that you weren't. I hope in my heart that you are happy, at peace. I try to pray for confidence for you, that you will join our family soon, but I'm not even sure I have this same confidence. I pray and hope and dream of what it will be like when we are together, and at the same time cry at the thought of losing you before you're ever mine.

You are mine. You will always be mine. You are a huge piece of my heart, have been since the moment we said yes. I walk in your room and expect to see you. I look at the space next to me on the couch and know that that's where you belong. As we head into winter I have added blankets to your bed, I don't want you to be cold if you come home tomorrow and I forget you need more blankets. I hug girls your age at church and know that it's nothing compared to the hug of my daughter. My daughter. My smart, compassionate, sarcastic, beautiful daughter. You are mine. I couldn't stop loving you if I tried. I have in fact tried to pretend that I don't love you, but it doesn't work. To stop loving you would be like going blind. It would be the end of life as I know it. I know that I would go on, but every breath would ache. My heart is broken by the thought of you. No one just walks away from this kind of break, it will leave a mark for the rest of my life.

So, the only option in my heart is to hope against hope that you are coming home. I put all of my eggs in this basket, and I just have to trust that it was a good idea. I know that God works all things to the good of conforming his children to the image of Christ. I know that nothing is impossible with God. I know. I KNOW. Even though all the unknown is overwhelming, I cling to what I know. I know that I love you. I know that God is good. I know that God is in control. I know that you are mine.

Rest and reassurance

During our study tonight of imprecatory Psalms, God reassured my weary heart. We read several in our Community Group as an echo to the sermon from Sunday and to lead into discussion. As I read Psalm 9 aloud, I was reduced to weeping, and my amazing husband had to come to my rescue to finish the reading.

Here are a few verses that rocked my broken heart:

Salvation belongs to the LORD; your blessings be on your people! Ps 3:8

In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety. Ps 4:8

But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them ever sing for joy, and spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may exult in you. For you bless the righteous, O LORD; you cover him with favor as with a shield. Ps 5:11-12

I will give to the LORD the thanks due to his righteousness, and I will sing praise to the name of the Lord, the Most High. Ps 7:17

And finally the one that brought me to tears in the presence of dear friends:

The LORD is a stronghold to the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O LORD, have not forsaken those who seek you. Ps 9:9-10

There have been moments in the last month that it has seemed like we are surrounded on all sides by evil that is conspiring against us. We are seeking to be faithful to what God has called us to in the church, we are fighting to love our daughter who is feeling further away every day, we are struggling to honor God in our marriage as we are tempted to get lazy. We are fighting in every aspect of our lives for righteousness, justice, mercy, and yet it seems the further into the battle we get the more we realize that evil in the world is much more pervasive, numerous, and crafty than we are prepared for. Our battle, indeed is not against flesh and blood, but humans are often used as mines in the dangerous fields we tread.

And yet, salvation belongs to God. We can lie down and rest because God sustains us. We are shielded by his righteousness. He is perfectly just, in ways we could never even comprehend. Though I am shaken, God will never be shaken, his throne is firmly planted.

By the mighty hand of God, for his glory, and for the good of conforming us to the image of Christ, righteousness will prevail. My daughter will come home. Our effort to teach gospel to teenagers will produce fruit. My marriage will survive. My friends will know that I love them. My city will feel the love of God.

And I will find rest in praising the one who made me, who redeemed me, who adopted me, who loves me, who leads me, who shelters me, who sustains me.

Bible induced angst

Final week of James with Marla, and also a bonus week of purge related awesomeness. Check out Marla's 31 days of purging, it'll wreck ya!

By the way, I just read this blog, and feel a little embarrassed because I say A LOT of these things on a regular basis, and probably drive everyone around me nuts. But I digress... EDIT: the link is dead, no idea what I was talking about, move on. :) But this lady has a fun blog!

I'm going to cheat a bit this week by actually being structured and following Marla's questions instead of just ranting and it not making a whole lot of sense. Go to the link at the top if you forget the questions.

1. James 5:1-6 is so hard on my heart right now. I'm not going to say I don't like it, but I honestly don't know what to do with it. We have had to make some very hard financial choices in our almost 4 years of marriage. God placed it on our hearts to be free from debt, while equally placing it on our hearts to give until it hurts. We have lived against the cultural mores of wealth and comfort in so many ways. We give water buffalo as Christmas presents for goodness sakes! But we are still better off than 99% of the world population. And every choice we make affects another life, even if the life is an unseen face half-way around the world. I am honestly paralyzed. God has graciously worked in me a givers heart, through the constant tenderizing of my husband giving our lives away, but I feel like it's never enough. There is always more I can do. There is always more I can give. There will always be poor, orphans, widows, broken people in every corner of my life and I will NEVER be sufficient. What good does buying fair trade coffee do in light of tens of thousands of people dying from famine? What is the point?! Maybe I just haven't moved past the lamenting part of this. Thankfully I have a God who is bigger than I could ever comprehend, and when I asked him to break my heart, he did. I just don't know what to do out of this brokenness.

2. Patience in suffering? I would love to hear what someone else has to say about this. Actually, no, I wouldn't because in the last 2 months I have probably heard it at least once from some well meaning person. Here's the thing, suffering doesn't come in just one form, and it often comes all at once in all it's hydra-like glory. Is waiting for ANY information about your soon (hopefully) to be adopted child suffering? In a sense yes. Is finding that you have no time to spend with your spouse because God has called you to a ministry that requires a lot of time suffering? It can be. Is relationships that you thought were solid (even ones you thought were growing into true friendship) getting unstable seemingly all because of your lack suffering? For sure it can feel like the worst kind of heartache. Is your co-workers attacking you in stupid petty ways suffering? Yeah, especially when it feels like sadistic scientists just testing the rat in a maze to see when he will just give up and die. Is people you don't have time to invest your heart in asking you for help suffering? Don't have an answer for that. I can say this though, when you are praying for patience in suffering, and "life" seems to pile on the heaps of chaos, those prayers become much more desperate. The refining fires of faith cause this earthen vessel to make a whole lot of noise (think random kid screaming for no reason) and lash out in crazy spastic ways (think Daffy Duck spaz out.) Gentle and quiet spirit, hmmmm.

The prayer of faith section gets my goat too. I grew up in a church where people prayed for healing a lot more often then they saw a doctor. I now go to a church where it seems like there is maybe more MD trust than I AM trust. And before you think I'm condemning the church that I call home, I'm pointing the finger right back at myself for all too often seeking medical advice before praying for healing. Now is the church that I grew up in right? I don't know. There were times where it seemed imprudent to have a sick kid (actively throwing up) in church so that people could lay hands on said kid and pray for healing. But there was also a man who had an imminently terminal diagnosis from a brain tumor that disappeared days after people prayed for him. If we are suffering we should pray. If we are cheerful, we should sing praise. And if we are sick we should have the elders pray for us. And the tie in with sin is just down-right confusing, and could easily cause people to think like Job's friends.

Brother James, why did you have to end your letter on such rocky ground for my heart? God, why did you see fit to include this as part of your words of correction, love, and encouragement?  Why is my heart so wrecked by so many nuances in one little chapter of the Bible? Oh right, I am not my own, I was bought with a price. That price requires me to DO justice, to LOVE mercy, and to WALK humbly with my God.

Let the forehead smacking commence

Read-along time!

James 4 is a remarkably good one for me this week. The funny thing is, the culmination of how my week has been, and how James 4 has wrecked me, came last night. I love God's timing!

James 4:10 knocked me over this week. J and I started a new class with our HS students last Saturday. This is the first class we have ever come up with curriculum for, taught, and felt responsible for the hearts of our students who attend the class. We have become good at being supporting role people, and actually think this is what God meant for our lives when we started to think about ministry. This is not supporting role, and as a result is way far out of our comfort zones. It is also a way for me to lose sight of humility.

Several of the kids actually thanked us for the class afterward, which surprised me. Kids aren't typically good at articulating appreciation. Parents sought us out on Sunday to thank us for pouring into their kids. I sincerely said to them that it is a honor to be doing what God has made us to do. I told them how much I LOVE loving on HS students and giving away truth to them. I smiled and thanked them for their kind words. You would think that I could get puffed up by the appreciation, but in fact I found an even sneakier way of not being humble.

The guy over J and I didn't say directly to me that he appreciated our hard work, that he thought we did a good job, or that he was thankful for our partnership in the ministry. That's where my pride bristled up in all it's ugly glory. He told J all of those things, but he didn't tell me. How dare he not come to me personally and express gratitude! I know J and I often say "We are the Borg, you tell one of us and it's the same as telling both of us,"  but dang it, I want my personal recognition. I started to complain to J about this yesterday and he asked if I had checked my email. "Of course I haven't, I'm too busy for that!" He proceeds to read off emails that the guy over us sent to J and I, and then to the rest of the ministry, about how much he appreciates us and thinks we did a good job. Did I receive this well? No, I complained further. Later when I thought about it God brought James 4:10 to mind. What we were teaching was not about us, but about God. Our ministry to the youth is not for our glory but for God's. Our very breath that we use to complain is a gift from God. Is it just me and Paul or does the Romans 7:24 moment wreck any other hearts?

Here's the other kicker for the week. When filling out 10,000 pages of paperwork for our adoption there was a little question of guardianship for our children in the unfortunate event of our deaths before our kids are adults. We didn't really pray about this question. We both just looked at it, started making a list of who would not go there, for various reasons, and narrowed it down to one family. We wrote that family in, and figured we would talk with them about it later. We love and trust this family, feel like we agree on the essentials of faith, and like their parenting style. It's a no-brainer. Check! Answered that question, move on. Now I don't think this is legally binding if we write up a will and name someone else, but I don't know, but we are seriously reconsidering the answer to that question.

Looking back, we answered that question a lot in the same vein of James 4:13-17. We didn't really consider what God's will for this would be. We made our plans, without seriously considering what tomorrow could bring. This may make us sound like awful potential adoptive parents, but let me explain. When filling out seriously whole trees worth of information about your life, sometimes it gets late into the night and you answer a little too gut instinct and little less God's will. It's not an excuse, but a serious "why did we say that? Oh right it was midnight and our brains were fried." Now, I'm not even sure we're whole-heartedly reconsidering, but we definitely are asking God how we should proceed. Here's why we're finally asking that question. The husband of this family wrote a blog post about the Christian's response to poverty, social justice, and the kingdom of God. We have been aware that we differ with him on some theological issues, but until now that didn't really make us uncomfortable. Last night we were uncomfortable.

We are now and not yet people. We understand that some think we are WAY off base in our thinking that consummation of redemption is future and we are also working in the kingdom even now. We hope that every day we are taking steps to usher in the kingdom of God, putting hands and feet to "Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." We understand that it can be an eschatological mine-field to talk about the final consummation of Christ taking his bride, while also talking about how the bride is to live now. We get it. But we choose to care for the poor, to welcome the orphans into our hearts and lives, to love on widows, and to proclaim liberty to the captives. We feel it is beholden upon us as Christians to be the body of Christ, and these things are natural functions of the body.

There is a lot of debate lately about the theological implications of poverty, orphan care, and wealth. My untrained, un-seminaried, illogical answer to the argument is this: Mercy ministry is kingdom work! This flies directly in opposition to my dear brother whom I would trust with the lives of my adopted kids. And so, I debate how to talk to this significantly more Bible educated brother about how passionately I feel that God has called us to bring his kingdom even now. And I debate if I should ask him and his beautiful wife, whom I love so much, to care for my kids if they are orphaned again by their adopted family. I don't know how you tell an adopted kid that their adoption is not part of the kingdom coming, but I fear that might be the way they see it. And I smack myself in the forehead for thinking "today I will do this, and tomorrow this is what will happen, and it will be great!" without thinking "God what do you want?"

Not many of you

Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. - James 3:1

Ugh. I have read this verse over and over. It has permeated my thoughts as J and I prepare our teaching for this Saturday. It bangs me over the head when I wonder what to talk about with my girls on Thursday afternoons. It makes me laugh that laugh that only those who are teachers get when they hear this verse. Greater strictness? No kidding! Ugh

And why, does God see it wise to bring more girls into my life to teach? Doesn't he know I'm already doing a shoddy job in the lives already here? Doesn't he know that I'm already overwhelmed by the giving account that I have to give for these little children? These aren't even my kids, but I feel the weight of them becoming functional adults so heavy on my heart. I need them to hear the gospel more than I need food. It is tempting to ask God why he put me in this time and place. I feel like Moses trying to convince God that I'm not cut out for the job of declaring freedom to the captives.

I had a conversation with God today that wasn't very polite on my end. It was actually kinda bratty. Man, I can be such a toddler sometimes. I have been praying for wisdom about our adoption for weeks. I have been claiming James 1:5 as a promise. I have prayed fervently for wisdom. But I haven't done a  whole lot of listening to God's response. So, I was praying for wisdom in another situation, as I was on my way to meet with one of my girls. And, in my bratty, unbridled tongue way, basically told God I don't think he has given wisdom when I asked in faith about it regarding our adoption, so maybe at least he could give me a little regarding this other situation. I am thankful that  God doesn't strike me down in righteous anger for such presumptions upon his gifts and nature.

After a good productive time with my girl, I came home and sat down to write a post for the Read-Along. I figured I should read James 3 again just so it's fresh in my brain. Or maybe it was more God saying, "read this, I have something for you to learn." James 3:17-18 hit me like a ton of bricks.

But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.

I have not been living a very wise life. I am asking God for wisdom, and yet the words of my mouth, and thus where my heart is, are not very pure. I have not been making peace. I am FAR from gentle. What is reason? I don't think I have any. I admitted to J last night that I have no mercy left in me. And good fruits? Let's not even head down that road of lack. I see only what I want to see, and how I want to see it. Sarcasm is dripping from my tongue like venom. I am sowing discord, and guess what I'm harvesting...

Again, not many should become teachers.

But God
...has reconciled me to himself, so that he could present me as holy, blameless, above reproach, and steadfastly rooted in him (Col 1:21-23)
...has made me alive in Christ, and adopted me into his family in order to show me the immeasurable riches of his grace (Eph 2:1-10)
...has justified me by grace, as a gift, and has satisfied his wrath against me and washed me clean by the blood of Christ (Romans 3:19-26)
...has poured out richly through Jesus, because of his great mercy, the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit (Titus 3:3-7)

Oh Lord, help me to see the wisdom that you have given richly to me, and to live in it.

Call to prayer

This is an edited version of  an email we sent to close friends and family. Some folks read here, but have not received that email, so if you fall into that category, here you go!

Hey friends and family!

We are sorry for the complete lack of communication lately about our adoption, but those of you who know anything about adoption know that this is how it is sometimes. We do not have any updates per se, and so we have not emailed with updates. Here is what has transpired in the last few weeks.

• We have received a few more pictures of our daughter, she is still beautiful, and our hearts are still in love with her sweet face.
• Her advocate, our sole source of information, has had some major family crises happen in the last few weeks, and has really had to focus on her life, which has, with good reason, pushed us to the background for a bit.
• We are still waiting for the US government to get things taken care of, and if you watch the news at all you know that there are so many other big things on plates of government officials right now, our little family isn't very significant to them.
• We still don't know if when to expect to travel.

As you can see, not much has changed. But, our hearts have changed in a big way. J and I talked the other night about where we are at, and both of us feel like it's time to really fight for our daughter. Unfortunately, there isn't much we can do tangibly to fight for her. Basically what we are being told is to stay out of the way and let the professionals do what they do. So how do we fight for our daughter from the sidelines? This is what God says to us:

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. -- Eph 6:10-12

This is where our fight is. We feel that the delays, and the silence, and the chaos in the advocate's life, and the struggle in our hearts are not necessarily things from God, but some are attacks of the spiritual forces of evil. Our enemy does not like adoption. It is a beautiful real life picture of the power of God to redeem lives, and it brings great glory to God when his people hear his call in adoption. (James 1:27) I don't say that to make myself feel special, I say it because it is true. Just as marriage is constantly attacked because it is the image of God and his church, adoption is attacked because it is the image of our inheritance in the kingdom of God. So we are entering into spiritual battle for our daughter, and it will be a long and hard fight that will continue for the rest of her life.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because we need your help. Many of you have sweetly reminded us on dozens of occasions that you are praying for us. For that we are so grateful. Many more of you are praying even though we don't know specifically of it. If there are any of you who feel a heart burden for our daughter, or for us, it is time for you to stand against the schemes of the devil. Our God is great and mighty, and has called us as his people to fight for justice to reign on the earth. We are hands and feet delivering justice by caring for the poor, the orphans, and the widows, but we are also soldiers fighting in the epic battle against evil that threatens to destroy hearts and lives. We will not back down, we will not surrender, for the LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. (Psalm 46)

Dear friends, please pray. Pray against the schemes of the devil that would try to stop God's plan of redemption for our daughter. Pray for saving faith to blossom in her heart. Pray against the whispers of discouragement planted in our minds like flaming darts. Pray for joy in our hearts as we face this trial and are tempted to despair. Pray against the attacks coming on the lives of people involved in facilitating our adoption. Pray for their hearts to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger. Pray against delays in the government. Pray for wisdom for our governmental leaders in regard to our nation, our family, and our daughter. Pray. Even when you don't hear from us for a while, pray. Even when you wonder what God is doing in our lives by calling us to this, pray. Even when you get tired of hearing us ask for prayer and want to do something practical, pray. Please pray.

Thank you all for standing with us in the first line of defense for our daughter!

Love!

D & J

I get a little excited...

Here we are in week 2 of the James read along with Marla and friends, and I am so excited about what God is doing.

I had to laugh at God's providence this week. I read James 2, and Ephesians 2 at the same time. If you don't realize how funny this is, seriously go read both and note the times that they are seemingly contradictory. One could easily miss the great similarities of these two chapters of the Bible because they are so differently written. Paul is all high and lofty, throwing in these amazing transcendent explanations of the entire plan of salvation from the beginning of time while at the same time reminding us that this is not a self-justifying faith, and James is down and dirty calling us out in our laziness and judgmental attitudes. You could even read James 2:14-26 and Ephesians 2:8-9 and think that the Bible obviously contradicts itself. And therefore, if it contradicts itself in this one place, how many other places are contradictory? And if that doubt is legitimate, well then we might as well just put the Bible away, not place our hope in it, and try out something else that seems a little more logical, or at least easier to figure out.

But rather than lose heart, I choose to dig. As one of the elders at our church likes to remind us, it's all about context, and no one verse was made to stand on its own to explain the entirety of God's plan for all eternity, even though some of them come close. The Bible is an unfolding of the story of redemption over millennium. We can spend our entire lives exploring the mystery of Jesus revealed in scriptures and still have so much we don't understand.

I know, this is a study of James, but I'm going to diverge into Ephesians 2:1-10 for a sec, mostly because this paragraph is one of my go to scriptures when reminding high-schoolers of the gospel. Revel in it for a bit if you will:

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

You just have to LOVE when God puts in the most amazing use of that little contraction "but" to just blow our minds with his plan. This is the cross, inserted precisely in the moment of dire wreckage, that causes our hearts to wonder at the love so richly poured out by the blood of our Savior!

But how in the world does this passage, and James go so neatly together? Did you catch the last sentence?

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

We are created in Christ Jesus for good works! We who are the bride of Christ, the bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, bride of Jesus, are made for good works. And these aren't just random, haphazard good works, because God in his sovereignty prepared them for us, and us for them. So we are to walk in them. What are these good works? God already told us that in James! Praise be to God that this book of his redemptive history ties all together, and has the power to relieve our lost, doubting hearts from fear and worry!