for the love of horse dookie

Our garden was chosen as a test plot for a new fertilizer. Hundreds of pounds of black magic dirt arrived this week, and we got to spend a couple of hours learning gardening secrets from the fella who invented it. It was fascinating learning about how to maximize productivity in a small space.

Some friends of ours had a bale of old wire fence they no longer needed. When we rolled it out, it fit to the inch around our 30' x30' plot. We smiled because that's sort of the theme of our lives lately. So many of our needs are being met 'to the inch.' God is good to remind me of His observant care in simple, tactile ways.

I guess I shouldn't count our chickens before they hatch, but I'm excited at the thought of Moses wandering through the rows and helping him pick fresh vegetables. For a kid who has spent most of his life in a concrete room, I would think this could be a pretty cool experience.

As for the adoption, the visas arrived with no problem. Since the Article 5 arrived Thursday, we are now waiting for our TA, which should take 2-4 weeks. There's an online rumor that consulate appointments are bottlenecked until July 6, but when I asked CCAI, they hadn't experienced a problem yet. I continue to be glad we are adopting through them, because they just seem to move through the system better than a lot of other agencies. Maybe that's because they process so many Chinese adoptions?

Regardless, we need prayers for a rapid TA and consulate appointment. We'd really like to reach Moses before his birthday on July 8.

Today we're going to start moving furniture for Moses' bed. He and JD will share a room for a while. Since JD has been the main prayer warrior for his little brother all along, it just sort of fits. (He prayed every night for a little brother named Moses for months. This was when we didn't know China adopted boys out at all, so we thought these prayers were impossible.) Hopefully having a roommate will help Moses feel more secure in a new home, too.

Must run. Sorting and cleaning today. So much to do before travel.

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quick update

Woohoo! We got our Article 5 today! That means we only have one more step before picking up Moses! In 2-4 weeks, we will receive a travel approval telling us to come get him! :)

Three quick prayer requests:

- Financial provision for our flights
- A very quick TA
- I'm having some weird pain behind my eyes. I'm really hoping it's just allergies. Please pray it's nothing serious, and that it clears up soon.

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the fifth stack

While Bobby was folding clothes tonight he shook out a little pair of shorts I'd found at Goodwill for Moses. He said, "You know what this represents?"

"What?" I asked.

"The fifth stack!" he said.

It made me smile, because he was right. That fifth stack of folded clothes looked awfully good sitting on the coffee table. It's our 'quiver-full of arrows,' twenty-ten version.

- - -

Upon recommendation from a friend, I've been reading Milton Vincent's A Gospel Primer. In the past, I've always felt a little slow, because no matter how much in-depth theology I read, it seems like I still have to return to the rudimentary gospel on a regular basis. It's like returning to the surface for air: Jesus died for me, and because of this, my life was made new ... and is being made new.

Yet Vincent's work is helping me see how the gospel was intended to be more than a one-time thing for Christians. The ongoing exchange of Christ is central to my growth, and this one simple truth applies very practically to every area of my life. The life infusion Jesus offers exchanges my strivings (fears, bad habits, insufficiencies, failures) for rest.

The chapter that shook me up today was called "My Manifesto." Vincent writes: "Admittedly, I don't deserve to be a child of God, and I don't deserve to be free of sin's guilt and power. I don't deserve the staggering privilege of intimacy with God, or any other blessing that Christ has purchased for me with His blood. I don't even deserve to be useful to God."

"I don't even deserve to be useful to God."

That last statement hit me hardest, because as the last few weeks of our adoption process draw to a close, I find myself plagued with fears. What if something happens and everything falls through? After falling in love with this child, what if we are left with empty arms? What if paperwork gets lost? What if he is gravely hurt in the orphanage? What if one of us gets hurt too badly to travel? What if one of us becomes seriously ill so that the other government won't let us have him? And then ... what if no one else wanted to adopt him, because he's a toddler? Or what if someone adopted him who didn't love him? For someone with my personality, these sorts of possibilities can be paralyzing.

Fifteen years ago I had a miscarriage, and it broke my heart. So I don't speak lightly when I say that (for me) these adoption-loss fears have been even more intense than pregnancy fears of losing a baby living inside my body. I know what would happen if I lost a baby inside my body. The child would transition from an environment of warmth and love into a beautiful eternity with Jesus. I know I could find comfort in that truth at the end of grief and pain.

But I don't know what would happen to Moses if we lost the adoption. I couldn't be assured he would be safe in any aspect, most importantly spiritually. I know many of the horrors and dangers that he would face physically, and that knowledge stirs up a level of fear I have absolutely no words to describe.

I realized today that, in light of those dangers, I have felt justified in expecting that God would let me be "useful to Him" by adopting Moses. The presence of such fear is diagnostic of a heart that trusts my love and my will more than God's. In the midst of a 'good' pursuit, the mission has almost become more important to me than my Savior. Perhaps this is the universal temptation of motherhood.

I'm grateful for Vincent's reminder that it is a grace to be invited into God's work, but I am not doing something good for God. In His mercy, He might allow me the privilege of being a part of something beautiful that He is doing. But participating in redemption is not something I deserve. I cannot demand it. My "usefulness" is dependent solely upon God's calling and sustenance.

Soli Deo Gloria.

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'gotcha' packing.

Today I'm packing 'gotcha' trip clothes for Moses. Before starting, I spread out everything that I was thinking about taking on the bed, and it was unbelievable. Friends have passed down beautiful seconds (many of them were never even worn). I found some great sales, and Goodwill filled in some important gaps. I couldn't even fit everything on the bed to take a picture!

Obviously there are a lot more important things than clothes, but it's still really cool to think that a child who has never owned a single piece of his own clothing in his entire life will walk into a wardrobe like this. A sincere thank you to everyone who has helped us collect!

I've gathered orphanage clothing before, and it was so much fun. But this feels different. Our little boy will fill these up! We will get to see the adventures lived out in these little shirts and shorts. It makes me so happy thinking about that!

Hurry, paperwork! Hurry!!!!

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visa applications finished. fed-exed. now, on to the the packing list.

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lineage

Mailing Visa forms today for three of us. Bobby's is still good from the last trip to Asia.

It hit me yesterday that if I live long enough, I might get to see some (at least half) Asian grandbabies someday. So, I got online and tried to find out what Chinese newborns look like. HOW CUTE! I'm smitten.

Almost sixteen years ago, during our wedding, we had our parents, grandparents, and a great-grandparent enter the church to an old song called "Find us Faithful" by Steve Green. It was meaningful to both of us to be a part of a multi-generational current of faith. Now we can welcome Moses now into this lineage.

But I'm not sure we are the only ones welcoming him. I feel like our little boy has been a part of that processional since before time began. I think he was meant to be here. And I can't wait to see what music follows the steps of his faithfulness in the years to come.

We're pilgrims on the journey
Of the narrow road
And those who've gone before us line the way
Cheering on the faithful, encouraging the weary
Their lives a stirring testament to God's sustaining grace

Surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses
Let us run the race not only for the prize
But as those who've gone before us
Let us leave to those behind us
The heritage of faithfulness passed on through godly lives

Chorus:
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful
May the fire of our devotion light their way
May the footprints that we leave
Lead them to believe
And the lives we live inspire them to obey
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful

After all our hopes and dreams have come and gone
And our children sift though all we've left behind
May the clues that they discover and the memories they uncover
Become the light that leads them to the road we each must find

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trendy baby

A lot of moms hate them, but I think they are brilliant. Animal-shaped rubber bands. Silly Bandz are the "Why-didn't-I-think-of-that?" product of 2010. It's an idea so simple and so universally appealing, it couldn't help but storm every middle school in America.

Blame the kid in me, but when I see these things peeled off my kids' wrists at the end of the day, I'm still sort of amazed that they pop back into neon pink llamas or glow blue ducks. They spend all day stretched into a million functions, but at night they hold the shape of their original form. It's a trend that I can get excited about.

If you've had more than a few discussions about adoption, you've probably encountered people who call it a trend. That's a strange term for the Divine interweaving of a family. As an adoptive parent, it feels a little demeaning, even. However, I can see why people make that assumption.

There is a huge push toward adoption in the Christian community right now. Conferences, radio programs, websites, and books are encouraging families to take the leap, and families are listening. I haven't checked the stats, but the growth seems exponential.

As potential adoptive families have the chance to watch their friends go for it, a vague idea becomes reality before their eyes. As a result, fear and uncertainty wanes. Courage rises with familiarity.

Our family had been praying about adoption for about four years when we encountered an amazing kid from South America on JD's soccer team. That was six years ago. Knowing him pushed us forward some more, and we asked friends to start praying for our decision. Watching my brother and his wife adopt my niece a few years later gave us a chance to experience adoptive love firsthand. Suddenly, this wasn't just something other families did, it was something our family had done. As we felt the time was ripe, the embrace and guidance of local adoptive families shepherded the first wobbly steps of our journey. They have also become our brothers and sisters, holding up our arms when they were tired or scared. Each of these encounters has propelled us forward in our pursuit.

I don't have my eschatology nailed down to a science yet, but if we are truly winding toward the end of many things, a surge of energy for adoption seems to make an awful lot of sense. Go into all nations. Make disciples. Teach them to observe the commands of Christ.

Adoptive parents go into all nations. They make disciples. They teach them to observe the commands of Christ. Shouldn't we have been doing that for the past two thousand years? I think so.

What if a major part of fulfilling the final stages of the Great Commission involves the Father powerfully stirring up masses of His people to make sons and daughters from the uttermost ends of the earth? How beautiful to share the adoptive Fatherhood of God through the adoptive fatherhood of flesh.

Not only are families and children blessed beyond words, but the nationals who see this love are shown a physical manifestation of the gospel. I was an orphan. But I was made a son. This has not gone unnoticed. As one overseas observer commented, "These Christians. They love the children no one here would ever want. There's something different about them."

A fad? The term is too trite. But if it's a trend, it's brilliant. It's the "Why-didn't-I-think-of-that" mission of 2010 and beyond.
Christians en masse, stretching into the shape of loving new families, but retaining shape of their Father. I didn't understand any of this at the beginning, I just fell in love with a little boy halfway around the world. But if this is what's happening big picture, sign me up.

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the gift of arms' reach

The reality of what's getting ready to happen is finally sinking in today. For the past few months, I've tried so hard to keep my excitement in check. International adoption is an emotional marathon, and the wait can be excruciating. Mothers and children weren't made to be apart like this.

For many months I've been absorbed with paperwork and planning. Actually, that has been a subtle blessing, because these activities have helped occupy my mind and body. Becoming super efficient with document preparation was really all I could give him, so (like most adoptive moms) I did it with all my strength.

As I worked, my son grew silently in the womb of my heart. My working for him has stretched my life until I feel lonely without him.

At this point, we only have about seven weeks left. I'm done with all the paperwork I can do, so my job shifts now to nesting. Today I did some things I wouldn't give myself permission to do last month. Flipping through lots of kids storybooks and finding pants on sale. I bought little bitty underwear and socks today. Then I spent three hours shaving and bathing the dogs, getting them all cleaned up to visit friends when we go overseas.

It feels so good to do normal 'mom' things again. These are the same things I would do for Moses if he were sitting in my shopping cart or playing in the sunroom beside me. I'm not having to learn a whole new language of immigration forms or grant proposals. I'm not staring into a computer screen for hours doing research, or clicking through blogs trying to find out how to speed things up. I'm back into the realm of the familiar. Providing. Nurturing. Preparing. That feels so good. It feels so REAL.

I know that I'll forget a lot of things about this process, but I hope I never forget to be grateful for the gift of just being near my kids. The blessing of having a normal day at arms' reach. I can sense that on the horizon at last, and it's beautiful.

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emotionally whipped

"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you." (I Peter 4:12-14)

When I was younger, I understood the Passion of Christ in physical terms. I thought about the beatings and having nails put into flesh. I wondered how much Jesus' body must have hurt.

But the older I get, the more vividly I think about the internal pain Jesus might have faced before He was put upon the cross. There were many ways the Father could have orchestrated the death of Christ. Why did He allow emotional torment to be a part of a physical death?

From what I understand, the New Testament seems to indicate that Christians are still completing the sufferings of Christ (Colossians 1:24). If we are going to suffer like Him, will that include some of His emotional sufferings as well?

If so, I wonder if mapping out some distinct emotional sufferings that Jesus might have faced will help me brace for the challenges ahead?

As I was reading John 18 this morning, I found a few possibilities. If anyone finds some others, I'd love to hear about them as well.

Some difficulties Jesus faced:

1.) The direct betrayal of someone in whom you've invested great time and love. (Judas)

2.) The failure of a close friend to stand up for you when you're being falsely accused. (Peter)

3.) Someone deciding to believe the worst about your character and regarding you with suspicion, even when you have repeatedly responded with integrity and humility. (The High Priest)

4.) Spiritual leaders persecuting you as you try to serve God instead of supporting you. (Religious leaders)

5.) Passivity on the part of someone who knows the truth, who is in a position to help, and who should come to your aid. (Pilate)

6.) The predetermination of fault, even in the face of innocence. (The crowd)

7.) The refusal of others to recognize or respect the role to which God has called you. (All)

As I read through these seven types of pain, and as I think back through times when I have experienced some of them, I have to admit that I've not handled them well. I have doubted God for allowing seasons of blatant injustice. I have cried out in frustration that God seemed to just ignore the abuse.

Maybe that's why it is so comforting for me now to realize that being misunderstood, misrepresented, betrayed, attacked, alone... these aren't signs of God's absence or rejection. These are the very same sufferings my Lord experienced. So maybe it is an honor to share in this type of pain... to walk in His steps. Maybe I can get to know Him better as I go there with Him.

This is something I am learning very slowly, and with wobbly knees. The reality of it comes and it goes, because I don't like pain and my faith is so small. Suffering hurts. And I want to run from it.

But I wanted to at least share what I'm starting to learn, in case any of you are facing some of these hurts as well. This sort of abuse can produce such lonely, scary feelings.

I don't think we need to feel surprised by unfair times. Suffering doesn't mean something strange is happening to you. It doesn't mean God has abandoned you. You might even ask for strength to rejoice, because maybe you are being given this opportunity to share in the passion of your Savior. When His glory is revealed, every unfairness and insult will turn into blessings. And until then, the Spirit of God rests within you. What beautiful company.


"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you." (I Peter 4:12-14)


THREE MORE RANDOM THOUGHTS AFTER TALKING WITH A GOOD FRIEND ABOUT THIS:

1.) "The Gospel shines brightly when we respond in such a way. No one is capable in human strength to do this." (Celeste Rutledge).

This matters to me because I often get stuck just in "knowing" and "trying." But I need God's empowerment to truly rejoice, because that's so counter-intuitive when I am hurting.

2.) The impact of insecurity

Sometimes I doubt that I am really sharing in Christ's sufferings because of insecurity. I try to handle injustice as something less significant than it is, because I don't feel like I would be important/good enough to really suffer for Christ.

3.) The impact of being married

If your husband is being persecuted, you will probably feel the results too. Your whole family will. As as a wife, it can be tempting to see our spouse's suffering as something less spiritually significant than it is. What if your husband is being mistreated for God's glory? What would it mean to trust a husband's leadership and rejoice that we are invited to suffer with him? What results happen when we blame him instead, and add to the pain?

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a handful of magic sticks

"One of the signs that an object is functioning as an idol is that fear becomes one of the chief characteristics of life. When we center our lives on the idol, we become dependent on it. If our counterfeit god is threatened in any way, our response is complete panic. We do not say, 'What a shame, how difficult,' but rather, 'This is the end! There's no hope!' (Tim Keller, Counterfeit gods)

While I was driving kids here and there today, I was thinking about idols. I mean the kind of idols you make out of wood or stone.

During Bobby's past two trips to Asia, he was amazed to walk down streets and see people putting money down before a mystic with a handful of sticks or some angry-looking handmade statue. People trying to find a steering wheel on Fate.

It wasn't until this adoption that I realized how closely these folks mirror my own heart.

Today we found out that Clara might need oral surgery very soon. One of her permanent teeth is growing into the root of another permanent tooth. Unless that's fixed, she could lose one of her front, top incisors. It definitely wasn't the news I was expecting, considering the demands of the past few weeks.

I quickly called Bobby and told him not to cancel our dental insurance, no matter how much it was. I also told him not to lower our outpatient surgery coverage. (BC/BS is raising our premiums, so we have spent the past few weeks looking for budget-friendly alternatives. Thankfully, I caught him before he made that call.)

During the long drive back to school, I was wrestling with what to do next. What was the proactive, responsible, wise choice? With the torrent of craziness running through our lives right now, I had the sensation that I was standing on the beach defying a tsunami with a yellow plastic bucket.

The silent dog biting at my heels was fear. There's too much to fix. Too much to do. Too much that's broken.

My office at work was empty, and I'm not on the clock today, so I let my Bible flop open and began to read. I realize this isn't the methodical plan Professionals use... but thankfully, God met me there. :)

My text fell open to Psalm 146 and 147. Songs about God's strength and man's weakness.

"His delight is not in the strength of the horse, nor His pleasure in the legs of a man, but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him, in those who hope in His steadfast love." (Psalm 147:10-11)

It was good to be reminded that God doesn't get all excited about earthly strength. He doesn't get all giddy about human ability. If I had answers to all of these problems, that wouldn't please Him.

God is excited about the human heart stripped down to an honest, humble realization of need, trust, and hope.

But my fear rises, and I start grabbing for idols out of instinct. Or if Tim Keller is right, maybe I fear BECAUSE I've been holding on to them so tightly all along. I'm like my brothers overseas who toss lucky sticks or venerate handmade Buddhas. I want security I can feel. A sense of control in a dangerous world.

What does it look like, instead, to choose 'trust' and 'hope'? To reject the many idols this process is surfacing? To trust in Someone besides myself?

Teacher, show me how to walk. Place my feet.


"Lay your deadly 'doing' down, Down at Jesus' feet. Stand in him, in him alone, Gloriously complete."

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shuffle-ball-change

I spent about an hour this morning looking for jewelry parts to replace those my ETSY shipper decided to keep :( In the end, I couldn't find the same parts at the same price, so I'm going to have to wait until May 20th for the PayPal resolution. I think I've sent everyone who ordered an email offering a refund, but if I've missed you somehow, just drop me a note and I'll get that to you.

Bobby had meetings and got home later, but once he walked through the door things started getting better. He could tell I was stressed and tired. He made me eat even though I didn't feel hungry, then he massaged the back of my neck until I couldn't fight rest anymore. I got about eight hours of deep, deep sleep.

Some of you know that our teenage son just finished a role in his school's production of Singing in the Rain. After watching multiple practices, one of the songs from that production seems to be forever stuck in my head. It's called, "Good Morning."

If you've seen the movie, you know that song pops in after a pretty dark night. Gene Kelly (a silent film actor) is distraught that his career is ending due to the advent of movies with sound. So, late into the night, he talks with his best friend and best girl, moving from despair toward a plan to save the day.

I grew up in existentialist, post-modern America. So, watching a perky little Debbie Reynolds finding a reason to tapdance at 1:30 in the morning is definitely new for me. My emotional default involves someone launching cows off a castle. Or maybe a poignant, angst-filled camera shot as the credits scroll.

But happy little Debbie grins and shuffle-ball-changes her way into foreboding. I think I kind of like it.

I wonder where I can find some tap shoes?
Click here to see the "Good Morning" video

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a little more progress...

We got our email from the NVC this morning saying we were 'cabled' on May 7, 2010! Woohoo!

The Rumor Queen site tells me to expect about 29 days between Cable and Article 5. Then 21 days between Article 5 and TA. I think that puts our TA about June 29. Isn't travel 2-3 weeks after TA?

That would put us there AFTER Moses' birthday, so we are REALLY hoping this moves a little quicker for us. It's not the end of the world if we can't celebrate that together, but it sure would be sweet!!

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a little progress

I have progress to report at last!! Our Provisional Approval for the I-800 form AND our kids' passports finally arrived on Saturday. Our I-800 was only a few days later than average, but after so many things moving quickly, that felt like an eternity.

This means tomorrow I can do two things: apply for three visas and check with the NVC to see when they sent our Provisional Approval to GZ, China. It feels incredible to have something to do again. The "wait-and-do-nothing" times are really the hardest. Knowing that you can do absolutely nothing to get your child home faster is an awful, helpless feeling.

Everyone I've talked with in government processing has been polite and personable, but there's no way they can share the urgency I feel. It's sometimes hard for me to stay lighthearted and casual on the phone, knowing my child's life is limited by a folder of paperwork sitting on someone's desk, needing to move through a jammed system. Maybe it's pointless, but I haven't been able to resist attaching photos of Moses and the four of us to several forms... a silent plea for faces to be remembered amid the regulations.

One of my friends texted me the other day with a simple phrase, "Keep breathing!" She's adopted twice, so she knows the Lamaze of this process. It's seems basic enough, but I still forget. Breathe in, breathe out. Stay calm, and carry on.

I started making our clothing packing list today. It's going to be hot, and we might need to wash some laundry in the hotel room. I am drip drying a few shirts in the bathtub today, just seeing how long it takes sans Asian humidity.

The necklace supplies I ordered from ETSY have STILL not arrived. I've written them several times, and I contacted PayPal today. I hope they will let me know something soon so I don't have to file a dispute. The seller had five star ratings, but they've suddenly disappeared. Ugggh.

Today is Mother's Day. I'm thankful to have a mom and to be one. But I can't deny being a little sad, too. I wish Moses could be here. I heard that a friend of a friend had her 'gotcha' day today, though. So I am rejoicing that the adoption cycle keeps rolls along, and that days that seemed like they would never come do. I hope to stay caught in the current.

Our church 'needed' another adult in Kid's Community this morning, and I have to admit, it felt really good to be surrounded by 2-3 year olds. We put on weird plastic hats and butterfly wings, and we helped a plastic dolly that needed to go potty use the convertible VW bug roof as a toilet. That was amazing. It's such a beautiful age, where the line between reality and pretend matters very little. I really hope God's gift of imagination will sustain Moses somehow until we arrive.

The necklace giveaway closes at midnight tonight! Be sure and comment if you haven't already. And thanks for all of the reposts to facebook and blogs. I'm grateful.

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A Decision

We've been debating about it for over a year, but I think we finally came to a decision today. We are going to start looking for a different house after the adoption is over. And when Moses is emotionally-settled enough to make the transition, I think we will go for it.

It's been a tough choice because we love our home. It's private, well-made, and artsy. It makes me happy every time I pull in the driveway. It's my refuge.

We've lived here almost seven years, so I know this place like the back of my hand. It just suits me. Every square inch of it. I never leave more expensive homes wishing for any more than what I have waiting for me right here. I am utterly content.

But as wonderful as it is, this place is still just a shadow of something to come.

You know, when I look at my heart with total honesty, it's crazy to admit the bond I've developed with something so temporal. I have come to believe that this house defines and protects me somehow.

Over the years, I've met a handful of beautiful people who move intentionally into public places to share the love of Jesus. I admire that so much! I want to be more like them, but I'm pretty sure that if I were with people 24/7, it would make more folks run away from faith than toward it. I'm social wasabi, better in small doses.

However, I can think about the house choice as a stewardship issue. There are some days I spend 2-3 hours in the car driving back and forth. Tons of time. Tons of gas money. And even though we don't think any one type of school is best (homeschool, public or private), we still continue to feel like our kids are supposed to be at this school for this season of their lives.

Second factor? We need to simplify. We cannot continue to invest this much of our time and resources in a couple of walls, a roof, and a floor when kids need families. Watching _The Boy in The Striped Pajamas_ changed something for me. As I saw those parents do whatever it took to maintain the illusion of comfort and safety for their children, I realized that I was doing the same thing. Preening and tweaking while the scent of human prison camps floats through our imaginary world.

If there's a home that would require less from us, what would that free us to do instead? I realize now that question can be answered with the currency of human lives. Somehow that clarifies a lot.

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