Blessed be the name of the Lord

"The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away; BLESSED be the name of the Lord." (Job 1:21)

Never have these words hit home as they did this past week. Another family was chosen for the children we were hoping would be ours, and we were faced with questions of our own integrity. Would we rejoice as we said we would? Could we still trust the God Who appeared to have disappointed us?

Yet, nothing we face will really ever match what Job suffered. He lost his wealth, his children, his friends, and still he blessed God's name. He was a man who knew the character of his God.

This week was filled with questions, tears, and lots of re-evaluating. Yes, we are disappointed. Yes, we wish things had turned out differently. Yes, there is loss. But, we are pressed, not crushed; struck down, not destroyed.

If I had to compare this experience, the closest thing I could use to equivocate would be a miscarriage. My doctoral advisor and I were talking about this, and she suggested the comparison. It's not a perfect one, because no child actually died. But, in a way, there is a death of a hope. So, perhaps that's the best way to try to explain what we're feeling.

In that same vein, there are things that are helpful for us to hear, and things that are not helpful. I share a short list for those who may find themselves someday wanting to comfort someone in our shoes.

Please don't:

• Trivialize our experience by saying something akin to "it just wasn't meant to be." That may or may not be true, but it glosses over our pain.
• Suggest that we're better off because four kids would have been a handful. Again, we know you mean well, but would you say that to someone who lost a child?
• Tell us how blessed we are to have our daughter, and that we should focus on that. Yes, we are blessed, but again...well...do I need to explain?

Please do:

• Simply say "I'm sorry. I know how much you were hoping this would work out."
• Offer a hug or an ear to hear our story.
• Remind us that you're praying for us and for the children that God does have for our family.
• Just be our friends. You don't even have to say anything. 

We do trust God, and we do know that His plans and thoughts are better than ours. But, we also have feelings, and our faith does not negate those.

The good news, and the cause for rejoicing is that these four precious children do now have a forever family, and we are exceptionally grateful for that. I am also grateful for my new relationship with foster mom. We may not get to parent the children she loved, but we get to pray for her as she makes this difficult transition of handing over her babies to another family. I can't even begin to imagine the difficulty, and I guess that no amount of preparation eases the process.

For those who have asked, we do not need to begin the process all over. Because we had a new home study done, we are current for another year. We are also quite happy with our new agency and social worker. We've had great social workers throughout our entire adoption experience, and our new one, M, is no exception. This new agency is quite proactive in helping us search for children, which is a plus, and M has already asked me to put together a one-page profile that she can use to present us to caseworkers.

All in all, after a week full of many emotions, we are encouraged and grateful for a God that sees each sparrow fall, knows each hair on our head, and certainly cares about each waiting child far more than we ever could.

He gives. He takes.  Blessed be His name.

No other gods...

So, it's finally here. The big day. Over a year ago, we first saw these precious children on a waiting child list. Our first inquiry was made on May 22, 2013. Last July, we started our home study. After experiencing administrative delays in obtaining state clearances, we finally had our home study approved in October. We submitted to this situation and our home study never made it. We found out after the deadline. The caseworker had already chosen families for the matching committee.

I was so upset.

I contacted the website that handled our home study submission, and I notified the owner of the mistake. She said nothing could be done. I asked if a match was always chosen when a committee convened and was told that it was rare for one not to be found. So, I did the only thing I knew to do - I prayed. I asked the Lord to prevent a match if we were supposed to parent these children.

Now, nine months later, we are waiting for the committee to meet and decide. I really never thought I'd see this day. Everything has fallen into place so perfectly these last several weeks that we look at the process and see God's hand throughout.

And that's the hard part.

It's easy to look at how God orchestrated everything and let that convince us that this will have the happy ending that we want. But, isn't that really just putting our faith in how circumstances look?

Thou shalt have NO other gods before Me.

How easy it is to want to look at circumstances and put our faith in them, or to look at someone else's faith or sense of peace and put our trust in those. But, God calls us to put our trust in Him and in Him alone.

I read a novel last week in which the protagonist was watching a friend struggle with a tragedy. She asked her friend why she wasn't angry with God, and the answer was really for me. The friend replied that there are two kinds of faith: the kind that trusts in what God does and the kind that trusts who God is. The first kind often leads to disappointment and bitterness, because God doesn't always answer the way we ask Him to. The second kind leads to peace in the storm, strength in the battle, and joy in the ashes.

It's the second kind of faith that we are holding on to today. Thank you all for your prayers and words of support.

Unfortunately, once we get a call tonight, we won't be able to share any news with anyone for seven business days. I know there are many who have been upholding us and praying for us, and you should get to hear how God answers your prayers. Know that we will tell you as soon as we can. Please help us by not asking. I promise to post an update when I can. Until then, know that God is good. All the time.

Rejoice

I have an amazing husband, and I want to take a moment to honor him for his part in all of this. Anyone who knows us knows that I am the gas pedal and Peter is the brakes; I dive in head-first while he dips in one toe at a time. But Peter, my rock, lives up to his name.

He had to work late last night, so he called me to pray with me. He prayed for these kids and he said, "Lord, if you choose to give these children to us, we will rejoice; if you choose not to give these children to us, we will rejoice."

Wow.

We will rejoice. 

We will rejoice because our God is in control. We will rejoice because we prayed that the right family would be chosen, and we know God hears our prayers and doesn't make mistakes. We will rejoice because we had the privilege of praying for children created by the Most High God. We will rejoice because the Word of the Lord does not return void, but accomplishes the purpose for which it was sent.

But mostly, we will rejoice because Scripture tells us to rejoice in the Lord...always.

And, again, I say...

Rejoice!

Exhausted

“The process of adopting a child pushes your personal envelope as a woman, as a mother, and ultimately, as a human being. It takes more courage than you think you have, offers more self-knowledge than you think you want, and reassembles your characteristics into someone familiar but changed.”

~Jana Wolff, Secret Thoughts of an Adoptive Mother

I was so tempted to quit on Monday. It was a fleeting thought, but one that I voiced aloud to Peter. I don't really want to quit, but in that very moment after six hours of social worker interviews and listening to horror stories, I was surely tempted. Peter was shocked. I had to remind him that I wanted to quit after we brought little A home, too, but that wanting to quit and actually quitting were two different things. I am not a quitter, but that doesn't mean I don't occasionally get tempted. I'm in a better frame of mind today.

Within the last week we have had four social worker meetings, totaling about 12 hours inclusive, completed roughly 25 hours of foster parent training, filled out yet even more paperwork, gone twice for fingerprinting, cleaned our house, had two home visits, and created three photo albums, one for each of the boys. To top it off, A had her 18 month pediatrician visit, and she screamed for just about the entire time we were there. Now she's napping, and I'm enjoying a cappuccino. Things are looking up.

For anyone who thinks that adoptive moms don't have to go through physical labor, I would agree. But, I would counter that with saying that contractions are about the only extreme pain we don't experience, and I hear you can medicate those. If I take any pain killing medicine, I have to report it to my social worker so she can include it in our home study. Yup, she wrote down that I very occasionally take Advil (and I mean once a year?). Oh, and that I have a glass of wine with my pasta on Sundays (what Italian doesn't?).

But enough complaining. Today is a new day and things are looking up. The children have a great foster mom who has been pouring love into them, and every time I talk to her I am encouraged. These kids are loved. By its very nature, adoption involves trauma, but I know that these children will weather that no matter where they are placed, and much of that credit will go to foster mom. Praise God for these kinds of families all around the country.

Another thing worth celebrating is that our new home study is complete. I just got off the phone with our social worker and shared with her some minor corrections. Now we just need to sign and send.

Then comes the hard part. Waiting and trusting. This is the part that I've had the most experience with and yet it's still the hardest part for me. At least while I'm compiling paperwork and answering endless intrusive questions, I am in some sort of control. Now I have none. I'm quite sure I should be glad about that, because the God of the Universe is in control, and quite frankly, He's much better at it than I am. But there still is a little (or maybe big) part of me that just wants to know that everything will turn out the way I want it to.

By earthy standards, we have a 33% chance of being chose to parent. But, depending on what God wants, we either have a 0% or a 100% chance. Deep down, that really brings me comfort.

The committee meets next Wednesday, June 18. Because of the laws of the state, we will find out that same day if we are chosen, but we will not be able to announce those results for 7-10 days. That means, I can't even contact foster mom to make logistical arrangements. The state does this to protect the children in case the family chosen reviews all the redacted paperwork and then decides they cannot follow through.

So...for those of you who have been following our story, please pray for us. And continue to pray after the 18th. Either way, we'll need God's grace, hopefully to help us prepare to welcome four new children, but if not, to grieve our loss and regroup.

Still small voice...

Well, if things could get any crazier, I'd be surprised. It has been a non-stop week.

Peter has been traveling more than usual lately. And, not just short puddle jumping trips, but cross country flights followed by hours of driving. He's been three time zones away four times since March. He was away last week when we got a call about another set of four siblings. Their caseworker wanted to know if we were interested. I was on the fence given that our hearts are so drawn towards the four that we are currently pursuing, but we want to be open to what God has for our family. My amazing husband said we should inquire. So, we told our current social worker, K, to go ahead and get the social summaries. In the meantime, we notified our new social worker, M, of the situation.

One of my favorite Scriptures of late is from the 127th chapter of Psalms: Except the Lord build the house we labor in vain. Within 24 hours, the Lord closed the doors on this new situation. Our new agency doesn't have a contract with the state of origin (it's only one of two states they don't work with, oddly enough) and the children's caseworker decided to go with another family. I praise God on two fronts: first, that He found these precious children a forever home, and second, that He did so quickly, thereby minimizing decisions Peter and I may have had to make.

Since my last post, we have begun the process of switching to an agency that can provide us with the needed foster care piece, and we learned that with that training (and if we are chosen) we will be able to take home the little girl that I thought wasn't going to come. I am consistently amazed at how God has been guiding us even before we knew what we were going to need. He led me to find the alternate training source.

Please do pray for us over the next several days. We have to do about 25 hours worth of training by Tuesday, and we have to do it independently, so we have two computers set up for that. We also have to make a photo book for each child, have a 2-3 hour interview by our committee representative, and have two home visits with our social worker. All of this by Tuesday. Because of that, today's post will be short, but I did promise to blog openly, so I wanted to post at least a little update.

And while we're asking for prayers, please lift up not only the children, but also the foster family who has been loving them (and waiting children and foster families everywhere). If you feel so inclined, you can even go to adoptuskids.com and pray for children by name.

We praise God for the people in our lives that have been so very supportive. We couldn't do this without my parents helping us watch A, and for the many friends that have been praying and offering support, we are eternally grateful.

A has a CD that we listen to in the car (Psalty the singing songbook anyone?), and the message comes from the story of Elijah - God was not in the wind or the fire or the earthquake, but He was in the stillness. What an appropriate and timely lesson for me as I am pressing close to Jesus so that the whirlwind of a week doesn't distract from leaning on my Shepherd.

Until next time...

Reblog: Six things I've learned about adoption

From my amazing sister:

The call woke me up late one December evening in 2012. I was out of state at a training seminar for work and was already fast asleep in my hotel room. Seeing that the caller was my sister, I confess that my first, half-asleep reaction [was] not quite joyous as, between the two of us, she is definitely the night person. But when I finally became coherent enough to understand what she was saying and her words – “You’re an aunt.” – sank in, I knew my life had just been irreversibly changed.

I now think of it as among the best days of my life.

What makes it different from, perhaps, the “typical” experience is that my precious niece came to our family through adoption. Now, 18 months later, I can’t get enough of her smiles, her kisses, and her words that are coming at a faster pace by the day.

Perceptions – and misperceptions – of adoption are undoubtedly too many to count, from the idea that people adopt only (and always) because it’s their only option to have children (wrong) to the idea that children are placed for adoption only because they are unwanted (wrong again).

As I’ve watched my niece grow these past months, and now as I watch my sister and brother-in-law pursue adopting four siblings, I’ve had my own perceptions challenged, reinforced, obliterated, and tweaked – in varying degrees.

While I certainly can’t give ‘advice’ as (or to) an adoptive mother, perhaps a few things I’ve learned can help others whose lives have been changed, blessed, and enriched in some way through adoption – or those who aren’t quite sure how to respond to a friend or family member who has chosen to adopt.

1) Every story is different. Before assuming you know the reason for an adoption, realize one thing: you probably don’t. Assumptions, if stated, can be hurtful – to birth mothers, to adoptive parents, and to the children involved. Just as every child is unique, so, too, is every story unique.

2) People ask some stupid questions. Yes, it’s true. While I haven’t gotten some of the downright rude questions my sister has gotten, I have gotten questions such as “Where did she come from?” “Did they adopt because they couldn’t have kids?” Etc. By and large, these questions reflect ignorance more than malice. And truth be told, I’ve probably asked these exact questions in my past (although never again). So, to all my friends who will be asked these questions, take heart, you’re not the first to face them. And to those thinking about asking these questions, think twice. If your purpose is simply your own curiosity, perhaps restraint is the virtue of the day.

3) “Adopted” does not mean “unwanted.” It’s all too easy and tempting to imagine that a birth mother places her child for adoption because she doesn’t want the child. After all, how could anyone “give up” her child? Before going any further, stop. Just stop. Unless you know the whole story, you don’t know the whole story (And even if you know the whole story, you might not know the whole story.) Certainly, those instances exist. But so do many, many cases of birth mothers showing incredible love and courage by relinquishing their children to someone else’s care.

4) Adoption does not define a child. My niece is not my “adopted” niece. My niece is my niece, who so happened to come into our family through adoption. Certainly, the fact that this is her story will impact her life. But classifying a child – any child – by the fact that they entered a family through adoption is no different from classifying them based on other factors, which we wouldn’t dream of doing.

5) If you haven’t adopted a child, don’t pretend you understand. How tempting it would be to tell my sister – or anyone pursuing an adoption – that I understand the stresses they’re going through. All that paperwork? Well, yeah, I’ve done my taxes before. All the uncertainties? Sure, I’ve been uncertain of things before. But the reality is that I have no idea. And chances are, if you haven’t adopted, neither do you. To offer our support, we don’t need to know it all or pretend that we do.

6) Adoption will change your life in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. When I first met my niece, I couldn’t begin to imagine the joy she would bring into our lives. Certainly, things changed. But it was the kind of change you never knew you needed but now can’t imagine life without. And if and when more children join my niece, I know that a year from now, I’ll be saying the same thing.

This list could be much, much longer – and I’m sure I’ll be adding even more to it in the coming months and years. But until then, I’ll be enjoying as much time as I can with the little girl whose arrival has already taught me so much.

Reposted with permission from Liveactionnews.org. 

Original link can be found here.