Deep Water

It was my privilege to attend the True Woman 2012 Conference from Revive Our Hearts Ministries this weekend, here in Indianapolis. The worship was amazing, thanks to the Gettys, a husband/wife duo from Ireland and the messages were challenging and encouraging.

Last night, Priscilla Shirer spoke and she is a lot of fun to hear. Her text was Luke 5, and she made many excellent points as she led to the portion that rocked my world. 

I tell my children that there are three parts to obedience: They need to do what I say, when I say it, and with a good attitude. Admittedly, I have yet to master that last one.  

If I know that God has spoken, I will obey. But often, I will do so begrudgingly, counting the cost loudly and kicking the whole way. Adopting a child with special needs has been no different. I know that God has told us to do this. No question. But, I have been ruminating on worst case scenarios in an effort to prepare myself. I have been lamenting the financial cost. I have been worrying about the logistics of travel and the care of the others left at home. I have been wondering what it will be like to parent a child I don't yet know.

Even yesterday, I watched Priscilla in her stylish outfit and thought, "How come God calls some people to study His Word and wear cute shoes," implying that someone else's calling is easier...classier...better than mine.

Luke 5 is the passage in which Simon Peter has been out all night fishing to no avail. He caught nothing and is busy cleaning his nets when Jesus arrives on the scene, commandeers his boat, and preaches to the crowd. After the crowd disperses, Jesus tells Simon to pick up his nets and get back in the boat to cast them again in the deep water. 


"Master," Simon answered, "we worked hard all night long and caught nothing. But if you say so, I will let down the nets."  Priscilla pointed out that God often calls us to that which contradicts our experience. His calling often goes against conventional wisdom because His ways are not our ways.

Priscilla stated, "It's better to go into the deep water with Jesus, than to stay in the shallow without Him, where you're able to stand on your own two feet."  The shallow water we can handle by ourselves, with our own giftings and talents. But it's in the deep water where God shows us His glory. It's in the deep water where He shows His strength. It's in the deep water where He shows us His power.

When Simon Peter did as Jesus said, he caught so many fish his boat could not contain them. The passage says he signaled to his partners to bring their boat, too. Priscilla pointed out that he signaled to them...he didn't shout, probably because he was speechless. "That kind of miracle only happens in the risky place of faith," she said.

While she was speaking, my heart was filled with hope! 

If my Jesus is in the deep water, then that's where I want to be. If my Jesus is in a Serbian orphanage caring for a child that has been discarded, then I want to be there, too. I want to throw caution to the wind, to plunge ahead, to embrace my calling, even though it flies in the face of common sense. I want to behold His glory, to observe His strength, and to experience His power. I want my faith to become sight.  I want to obey! 

*We still need several thousand dollars and hope to travel in about 3 short weeks. We would be so grateful if you could contribute any amount and/or share our chip-in.

What's Next?

I keep getting asked what the timeline is for our adoption. I'm learning that having an accurate timeline for adoption is like stopping a river with a spork....it's just not possible.

But, we shipped our dossier, today! Yay! Which means, it is all out of my hands. Finally! It should arrive in Serbia next Monday or Tuesday. It should take about a week to translate and then will be delivered to the Ministry.

Once it's reviewed by the Ministry, we should receive a list of referrals within a couple of days. 

That's the hardest part. We must choose a child from those available. I've mentioned before my reluctance to choose one child over another, but we're only approved for one. We do have a child in mind that we've heard about, but we'll see.

After we accept a referral, we need to be prepared to travel within the week. 

Did you read the number of "should"s? Not a real definite timeline, but in the absence of any snafus, travel is very, very close.

We still need funds. My friend, Melissa, herself an adoptive momma of a cutie from Serbia, is offering a gift to the first fifteen people who contribute at least $10 to our chip-in. Would you consider donating? Every little bit really does help!
 

Life With My Boy

Our little farmer

Eon is 3 1/2 years-old. He continues to be an absolute delight...when he's not too busy being an absolute stinker! :) He thrives on routine, but loves new experiences, too.

Little sister KJ

He adores his little sister, KJ (now 21 mos.). They are each other's favorite playmate. Eon will wait for her to wake up in the morning and the minute he hears her call, he bursts in her room with a loud, "Hiiiiiiiii!" Then there is a general love fest that lasts about 5 minutes with lots of hugs and kisses and smiles until one of them tries to shove the other down the stairs. ;)

He attends developmental preschool three afternoons a week and rides the bus, which is new this year. He loves it! From the reaction of the staff, it's easy to see that he's a class favorite. 

First day of school.

Needs a little work on applying the backpack!

Speech continues to be his biggest issue. His receptive language is spot on, but he is hugely delayed in expressive speech. We recently started taking him to a local outpatient clinic for additional speech therapy as we felt the school therapy wasn't nearly enough. (and I felt the therapist did a poor job of communicating with me last year, so I wasn't real optimistic about this year.) I can tell Eon is frustrated with his inability to communicate sometimes. It frustrates me, too, and is my greatest area of concern for him.

He's made some real gains in the last few months. He no longer needs his liquids thickened and can drink from an open cup with rare spillage. We have not actually had a recent swallow study to confirm that he's not aspirating on thin liquids, but he has no signs of aspiration, nor has he had any congestion since we stopped thickening, so I think we're good.

He doesn't bolt from us in public nearly as often, which is HUGE! When I allow him to let go of my hand to run ahead, like at the park, he stops and checks with me several times for reassurance that it's okay, so I think he's starting to understand what's expected. At the state fair this year, he started to run and I caught him. I squatted down and asked him where he was going. He pointed off somewhere and I said, "If you run off, I'm afraid you will get lost and I love you too much to lose you." He threw his arms around me and just leaned in for the longest hug. I think he really understood and stayed with us the rest of the visit.

Eon is about 75% accurate with his colors and is starting to learn shapes. We're also working on recognizing his written name. That reminds me of a story: When he gets in trouble or I really want him to listen to me, I will use his given and middle names, Simeon Israel. Recently, his 5-year-old brother, Zak, asked me, "Why do you always say Eon's real and not me?" "What are you talking about?" I responded.  "You say, 'Simeon IS real,'" he answered. "No, Zak, I'm not saying that he's real. Israel is his middle name! " LOL! Years of therapy avoided with one question. Whew!

Eon loves coffee! Child after my own heart. :) If he gets up before I leave for work, we'll have coffee and breakfast together. (Don't worry...decaf for him.) It's a special time.

He continues to be just one of the boys in our family, and yet, his chromosomal enhancement does set him apart. He's very sensitive and, while he will get physically hurt and barely notice, if there is an emotional component attached, he will be almost inconsolable. He has an empathy for others that is rare for a child his age, too. And kids with low muscle tone give the best hugs. He's a joy and we are so blessed to be his parents!

Boys and dirt...awesome combination!

 

The Adoptive Slacker

I feel like I'm doing this wrong.

Other people move through the adoption process much faster. They are more organized. They are more creative and more persistant in their fundraising. They are focused. They are relentless in the pursuit of their waiting child.

As is typical for me, I am distractible. I can spend my whole day at work obsessively worrying over phone calls I need to make, emails I need to send, or documents I need to copy, only to come home and immediately busy myself with everything that has nothing to do with this adoption. I jump on the trampoline with Eon, or tour the girls' redecorated room, or run errands with Shawn, or, way too often, veg out on facebook.

I'm not doing this right.

Maybe it's because I work full-time or because we have seven kids. We really are busy. There is much to be done simply to maintain our current life.

Or, maybe I'm simply lazy and undisciplined.

I feel behind. I feel guilty. I feel inadequate. Whatever the reason, I am doing this slowly.

But I am doing it...and that's what matters most. At the end of this road, a child will have a family and a future. We will grow in love and numbers. Our community will be richer and our lives will be fuller.

Have you considered adoption, but found the process daunting? Do you feel like you could never pull it off? Does the thought of a home study overwhelm your messy sensibilities?

Follow me. There is hope! You don't have to do it perfectly. Just take the first step.

Instead, God deliberately chose things the world considers foolish in order to shame those who think they are wise. And he chose those who are powerless to shame those who are powerful. I Corinthians 1:27 NLT

Each time he said, "My gracious favor is all you need. My power works best in your weakness." So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may work through me. 2 Corinthians 12:9

(We still have a lot to raise. If you feel at all led to contribute, just click on the "chip-in" at the top of this blog. Thanks!)

Thoughts in the wee morning hours

It's early in the morning and I am alone. My children are sleeping and my husband has left for a weekend workshop. I am weeping and praying and needing to speak.

This week, I ran across this on a friend's blog and, while I read it immediately, I have not had time to process all that it encompasses...until now.

It is the report on Serbian institutions from Mental Disability Rights International. It is only five years old. While I do know that the Serbian government is working hard to change conditions found in this report, I am realistic enough to know that change, even in the best of conditions, is slow, especially when mindsets and culture must change first.

The report freely states that there are good laws about the treatment of adults and children with disabilities, but without funding and public support, the country is in severe violation of its own laws.

There were rows of metal cribs filled with teenagers and young adults. Labeled immobile or bedridden, many of them were kept naked from the waist down on plastic mattresses, covered only with a sheet to facilitate staff clean-up of bladder and bowel incontinence. Staff reported they also eat in the cribs and spend all of their time in the cribs. They never get out. –

MDRI investigator,

Stamnica Institution

I looked into the crib and saw a child who looked to be 7 or 8 years old. The nurse told me he was 21 and had been at the institution for eleven years. I asked her how often he was taken out of the crib and she said “never, he has never been out of the crib in 11 years. –

MDRI investigator, Stamnica Institution

I walked into one room after another, a ward for children 4 to 7 years old. It was the middle of the day and children were confined to their cribs. There was no staff in any of the rooms, no toys, no music – nothing. One boy with Downs Syndrome was hitting his head over and over against the metal crib. Another was tied to the crib in 4 point restraint and still another, with a deep gash on his

ear, had his arms tied to the side of the crib – MDRI investigator

Self-abuse is created and exacerbated among children who receive no love and attention and who are abandoned in beds or cribs. Psychological experts agree that they crave some form of stimulus, so they would rather feel pain than feel nothing.

– Karen Green McGowan, RN, expert on children with complex

developmental disabilities



And on and on it goes.

And my heart breaks.

These are people. So far removed from our lattes and laptops that we do little more than exclaim, "OMG!" before we move on to the next activity.

And so I weep...and I pray...and I worry about MY child. But mostly, I worry about the ones we'll leave behind. I don't even have to wonder what will happen to them. I already know. So much mind-numbing neglect that they will harm themselves to simply feel something. And they will lie, day after day, hour after hour, alone in their cribs.

And we will do nothing.

It's hard to live with a divided heart. I want to hole up in my room and cry and pray and research and advocate...but life must be lived.

I sound so sanctimonious, and yet, it's often me with the latte and my laptop exclaiming about something over which I have no control. It's often me pleading with God to save them with one breath and complaining about my awful passport photo with the next. I have not learned how to live in this affluent, self-absorbed society and care deeply about a world so vastly different.

And so I complain about things that don't matter and joke about things that matter less. I spend time and money on modern conveniences and dull my concern with facebook and reality programming. And I pretend that the world we've created for ourselves is real and lasting.

But it's not.

There is more to this life. There is more than this life. I want to continue to see beyond the nose on my face and I want to live for more than what I see. I don't want to live thinking I'm exempt from acting if the problem is too huge to solve.

11 Rescue those who are unjustly sentenced to death; don't stand back and let them die. 12 Don't try to avoid responsibility by saying you didn't know about it. For God knows all hearts, and he sees you. He keeps watch over your soul, and he knows you knew! And he will judge all people according to what they have done.  Proverbs 24:11-12 (NLT)

It's not easy...

My house is quiet and I am alone. My husband has taken the children camping and I will join them tomorrow. In the meantime, I have time for quiet reflection. It's so wonderful, I can hardly stand it!

So we're adopting a child with special needs. What that looks like from this end alternates between feeling incredibly blessed to partner with God in the ransoming of a child and feeling like we're the biggest dopes on the planet to take on something so huge with so little earthly gain. Which side I land on is directly proportionate to how much time I've spent with God.

I admit to being a bit jealous when my co-worker waxed on about finally deciding on a 14-day trip to Hawaii (7 days on ship, and 7-days on land, in case you were wondering) for her 20th wedding anniversary. I sat there thinking, "Our 20th is next year. We'll have 2 small children with special needs and 6 others with regular needs. Maybe we'll get to go out to dinner." Another friend is excited about building her dream home on a wooded lot. I start to turn slightly green. When joking with another colleague, mother of one, about leaving one place of mayhem (work) for another (home), I'm brought up short when she remarks, "Actually, home is usually pretty calm." Really? What must that be like?

Wow. I'm not proud of my reactions. I'm not proud that I continue to weigh such things as we move forward. I'm not proud that I question our choices, and the ones that we've already made, so easily.

The truth is, I would gladly choose Hawaii over an Eastern European country for our travel plans. I would love to move to a big house with a wooded lot, over staying here and stacking children. I think it would be heavenly to come home to a quiet house that stays clean every day.

It's times like these, that I am so thankful that I can confess my awful thoughts to God. I'm thankful that He gently reminds me that His ways are good, that His timing is perfect, and that there is a reward beyond Hawaii trips and big houses. He shows me that the here and now is just a blip in light of eternity.

My confession turns to praise and gratitude and I'm reminded of all the wonderful in the here and now. Would I notice the moments of quiet, if I were surrounded by it all the time? Would I be so giddy that my house is, indeed, clean right now if it were effortless to make it that way? Would I enjoy my home empty if I were powerless to fill it with children?

I think not. See, for all my grousing, I am incredibly blessed to have this life that's filled with children. I am excited to meet the one, born to another, but mine none the less, in the coming months! I am grateful that I have a husband who adores his wife and delights in his children. And I am thankful for the quiet moments, especially in their rarity.

Following Christ is a gift beyond compare. It's not easy, but one thing I know to be true is that easier is seldom better.

Normal, just like you

"Here," he said, handing me a folded piece of paper. "It's so you won't forget me."

I opened the paper. In a childish scrawl with yellow marker it read, "C-a-l-e-b."

We had been graciously invited to the home of a fellow homeschooling family we know to talk about adoption. Please understand, we are never invited anywhere. There are simply too many of us and we are overwhelming in a group, so this was a big deal. :)

But Julia is excited about international adoption as they've experienced that miracle, twice, and was willing to share their story and let me pick her brain.

They have a beautiful home and dinner was excellent. They confirmed our choice of agencies for our home study having had a good experience with them both times. And they gave us good advice, as well as a listening ear. Our kids had a ball playing with theirs.

But, what struck me most as the evening progressed, was how normal their family is. I watched as the siblings played and bickered and how they, as parents, interacted with all their children. I watched with fascination, having a new interest and perspective on the dynamic.

If it weren't for the skin tone of the younger two, no one would ever suspect that they had been adopted into this family, so complete was the seal.

I'm not sure what I was expecting. I think I've so immersed myself in adoption horror stories, in an attempt to prepare myself for the worst possible outcome, that I'd forgotten that adoption can, and usually does, work.

This average family, with strengths and weakness, perfections and flaws, just like you and me, recognized a universal need for family and responded to it.

They said yes.

Without knowing fully what to expect, they took a leap, collected and filed copious amounts of paperwork, saved and raised thousands of dollars, travelled across the world, and rescued a little boy who had been abandoned because of a cleft lip.

And because they found him to be a delight and a blessing to their lives, they did it again.

They found another child, a little girl with a minor medical issue, who needed someone, and they chose to be that someone....for her.

Guess what? She is a delight and a blessing, too.

Was it easy? No. Was it expensive and costly? Absolutely. Did their lives change? Most definitely. Would they do it again?

In a heartbeat!!!

From an outsider looking in, their lives looked joyful and stressful, peaceful and loud, orderly and chaotic. You know....normal.

They are not super heroes. They are not amazing people. They are ordinary people who did what most of us consider to be an extraordinary thing...but what they consider an ordinary thing.

Two children needed a home and a family, and my friends gave them one.

And because they did, their lives are richer, fuller, slightly crazier, but still normal.

What about you and your normal life? Have you considered adoption? Have you wondered what it would be like to add a child that's already been born to your family? I'll bet of the estimated 147 million orphans, more than a few have wondered what it would be like to belong to a normal family like yours. Will you pray about it?

Instead of praying, "Lord, should we?" Why not ask, "Lord, why shouldn't we?"

And don't worry, Caleb. I won't forget you. If not for your parents, I would never know you, but now I do and I will never forget the blessing that you are.