Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Thankful in the Loss

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day and most will be huddled together with family and friends gorging themselves on homemade delights. For me, I am supposed to work. I knew that becoming a nurse would ultimately find me making compromises that I would not want to make, but would for the greater good. Last year was Kayden's first Thanksgiving with us and I am grateful that we had that moment to share. However, this year my heart was set on seeing his school play as our family "thing" for Thanksgiving. He had been sharing snip-its of his "act" with us, taunting us with his cuteness. We dropped him off at school with warning from the school's director to make sure we were on time. After getting a few groceries, unloading them at home and getting dressed for the event, we headed to Kayden's school. We arrived to the sanctuary promptly at 11 am, cameras ready, and joined the other proud parents on the pews. After several acts, the director, stated "that's the end of our program folks." Shawn and I looked at each other questioningly. When we sat down to lunch with Kayden I overheard other parents telling their children, "you looked so great up there" and "I'm so proud of you, you did a great job." My heart sank. I couldn't tell my child that. I missed it. So much hope dashed. For most, this wouldn't have been a big deal. So he will do it again next year. For me, I became broken. I should have been there for my child and I let him down. In reflection, I am grateful for that brokenness. Why? Because I am bonded with my child. He is no longer an orphan. He is MINE. I love him with an unconditional everlasting love. It hurts me to hurt him, to dissappoint him or to feel that I have left him alone. I am thankful that I have him. That I can feel the joy and pain that comes along with being his mother. So Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Cherish the ups and downs for in them all are blessings. It just depends on your perspective.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Perception of Perfection

I am not a writer as much as I am a reader. The written word has the power to transport, to temporarily displace, to move earth and time. Oh how I love the idealic universe of a book. But I don’t live in a book. I live in the here and now, which can sometimes weigh a person down. I am a real person with real thoughts, real hurts, real situations, true joys and true pain. Due to my desire to live in an idealic world I often look at my world through perfectionistic eyes. Desiring the best of me and hoping everyone else will too. There is no room for compromise, no room for “slip-ups” and no re-do’s. Do it right the first time with excellence. High expectations mean a longer and harder fall. Why do I put myself through it? Human nature; a desire to not be found wanting, maybe even the difficulty in accepting unconditional love. Honestly, how long can one person keep up that pace without succumbing to the weight of imperfection? Not long. Pushing, striving, attaining and failing only to find that all along all I had to do was trust.

Trust, for me, has always come easy. I am gullible and quick to believe in people (some of my close friends know this well and use it to their advantage in tricking me). On the more serious side, I have been hurt many times in my life just because I didn’t want think someone was truly that devious or selfish. I have held on to friends longer than I should have. I pushed away those who showed potential to hurt. It is because of these life experiences that I now find myself more hesitant to make new friends, becoming more introverted the older I get. I have become my own worst enemy. Condemning myself for “human” errors and becoming more introverted in order that I would not disappoint anyone else. Maybe it was the hurt that pushed me more toward perfection. Not wanting to hurt others as they hurt me. Not wanting to accept that I am just as selfish, at times, as they were. Each hurt became a brick, a layer, a wall pinning me in as I strove to create my own idealic universe. A preacher once said, “If you find the perfect church and join it, it won’t be perfect anymore.” If I create my safe perfect world and all that is left in it is me, guess what? It’s NOT perfect.

So how do I move past the flaw of perfection? Jesus. I’m currently reading a book called, “Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World” by Joanna Weaver. In just the few chapters I have read it has become clear that I am Martha (Luke 10). I am the one who will open my home at the drop of a hat. Upon entering my house I will make sure sheets are clean, the most comforting foods are cooked and that you want for nothing. However, what you will not get is me sitting and enjoying a conversation. A wall? Perhaps. Perfection? Most definitely. In reading the story of Mary and Martha, in Luke 10, Martha is fussing about fixing a dinner for her guests while her sister sits by and does nothing (my perspective). Vs 40 says Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. Were these preparations REALLY needed? The Bible says that Mary chose the “greater thing.” It was to sit and listen to Jesus, commune with Him, get to know Him. It is in my time with Him that I learn to be content with who I am. It is also in those times I realize what gifts/talents I have been blessed with and that it is okay to use them in relationship with others. It is in those quiet times that bricks of hurt are removed and crushed, nevermore to return. It is in those moments that I know that my world will never be perfect but my Savior is.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Transparency

(Orginally written April 2010)

Today is a day of reflection for me. Where we have come from, where we have been and what God has in store for the future. I think about all the things I thought I knew: things about the world, the people in it and who I was to be walking amongst them. Truth be told, I saw life a LOT different. I will not pretend to have all the answers, nor do I hold much confidence in what I see for our family’s next journey. One lesson I have learned in this life is that no matter what you think your great calling may be it will change and the only thing that will not change is God Himself.

My favorite times with God are during times of worship. Worshipping God always seems to draw me deeper in faith and opens up my understanding of who God is. Every time I start worship I pray this prayer, “Lord, let this world disappear and it just be you and me, face to face, in that secret place.” I have always imagined my secret place as hiding in the folds of His robe, sheltered from the noise and distractions of the world, leaning close to His heart and listening to the beat of love flow for creation. It is in this place where I feel whole. I believe in God not because I am a mindless woman who follows the swiftest river. I believe in God because it is my nature. I am created to worship Him, to adore Him, to serve Him, to love Him, to devote all I have to Him. We all are.

Now if I may be blunt: People think they know me, however, not many do. Very few really see the inner workings of my heart. Yes, aspects of me are easier to see and define but what really lies under that is a desperate person. I have spent many hours of my life crying out to the heavens. Many times I have pondered, studied and tried to determine what God wanted for me. At points in my life I thought it to be healing ministry, at others missions, then maybe a combination of both, and now it has morphed into all those things and more. One underlying constant has been love. There is healing, redemption, and wholeness in love. There peace, joy and security in love. The Bible says, “God is love.” If that does not give us purpose or excite us then what will. All creation needs love and all creation needs God. There should not be one person to breathe their last breath on this planet without knowing what it is to love and be loved. Everyone IS loved but they just don’t know it yet. That is my underlying purpose. Some days I get trapped in the ways of the world and the day to day business forgetting what I was meant to do that day….love. I do get consumed with the affairs of men too much. Such is the fallacy of being human. That’s when I need my “secret place” even more. To see people as God sees them, not as a human judging them unnecessarily.  

So, what does this all mean? It means I need to be more transparent, more true to my inner self and consistent in my everyday dealings. It means I need to have more of “God time” and less hurrying around doing things that don’t make a difference. I also see adoption as fulfilling and amplifying the calling on my life. Adoption is healing, it is redeeming, it is stepping out of us and giving to others, it is Godly love.

My Story, My Journey

My Journey….(orginally written January 2009)

I am not one who blogs or even keeps a daily journal. I tend to talk instead of write, until now. Therefore, to most of you this story may seem familiar, but not everyone has heard the whole story. Only now, as the adoption process is coming to an end, I am being drawn to relive my journey. In doing so, I have realized that the heartache is easing, the hope is renewed and my faith now stronger. Even as I write, the tears in my eyes have turned from mourning in to dancing. So here is the rest of my story.

Being a typical American girl I always dreamed of the man I would marry, the children I would carry and the life I would live to the fullest. Yes, at 13 years old I would put the proverbial pillow under my shirt and imagine what I would look like pregnant. You laugh, but you have done it too. However, my story varies there in that whenever I would put that pillow under my shirt, in the quiet of my room, a thought would materialize in the back of my mind about adoption. I can’t explain it but even from a young age, I knew that adoption would play a role in my life.

At 19 years of age, I felt a calling on my life. I know that some of you may not understand what I am talking about, but I really felt that God had a purpose for my life beyond me, beyond my dreams, beyond my hopes. I traveled to Africa to spend a summer working with missionaries. That summer changed my life. My eyes were opened to the resilience of human beings even in the most disparaging situations. My heart began to break for people who had never heard, “I love you” or felt the warmth of a friendly hug. Children who never had a father say, “I am proud of you” or mother ease their fears after getting hurt. That trip put me on a course for Bible school and eventually into the field of nursing. I was on a path to love the unloved. That’s when the adoption journey really started.

I met my husband Shawn in Bible school. He led a trip of students overseas on a mission’s trip and I was one of his little followers. We were friends for several years. We were in ministry together, hung out with the same friends and even dated other people but it wasn’t until 2003 that we started dating. Our courtship and engagement was relatively fast because we already knew each other: the good, bad and ugly. Trust me, the trip overseas was UGLY! We were married in the fall of 2004 and told ourselves that we would give our marriage a year before we started trying to have a family. It was pure bliss. We had some struggles at the beginning between Shawn going into fulltime ministry, me starting a new job in nursing and finances not always being what we wanted. However, God was faithful and He provided for all of our needs. A year quickly passed and we were ready to begin a new adventure, trying for baby number one out of the three we said we wanted. The possibilities were endless.

Immediately, I started making preparations for a new baby. The office was turned into a nursery. My old baby crib was set up. The walls got several coats of paint (I just couldn’t decide.) We went out looking at cute baby clothes. However, months began to pass with EPT sticks negative. People, out of the kindness of their heart, start telling you their stories of their journey to parenthood. Family members, who you can’t remember their kids names their so far removed, start sharing intimate details of how to “make” babies. After 6 months passed, we decided that I needed to go to my doctor and see if there was something wrong. Three months and MANY lab draws later, my doctor told me that my hormones levels were consistently low and I need to go on medication. At first I thought nothing of it. I will take some medication and within a month I will be pregnant. Four months, MANY lab draws and several medication increases later…Nothing. Advice from friends now seems like a condemnation for not being able to bear children. Their hearts were in the right place, mine wasn’t. More time passed without explanation of why things weren’t working. My doctor decided that it was time to test my husband. The results: he’s normal! Go figure. I continue on with the medication, monthly tests, and even several IUI procedures hoping beyond hope that something will start to work. A year passes and my hope starts to fade. The baby’s room, that once was so bright, became a place of sorrow and emptiness, a reminder of my internal struggle.

08.25.06 Prayer note: LORD, I am weary in Spirit. I have struggled for so long, in so many situations to feel adequate. You know this well. I gave you my life and my heart in hopes that you would mend my wounded spirit. Many days I do not even think about this issue but some days it overwhelms me, especially in these days of not being able to conceive. Lord, you are the giver of life, the creator and provider. You are worthy of praise! Lord, grant me life, a life free of felling like I don’t measure up, or that something is wrong with me. You are my rock, my strong tower, my refuge and I am running to you. Hold me and let me rest in your embrace.

You see, when a woman is designed to bring life into this world and that gift eludes her, life seems void and empty.

In January 2007 my doctor recommended exploratory surgery. I went to the hospital with my husband, mother and aunt standing strong for me. We did not have any idea what the results would show. We were just hoping for answers, anything at all. Needless to say, they found nothing that would keep me from getting pregnant. Those words were devastating, because it left me with only one thought. God, why would you take this from me, what did I do?

07.02.07 Prayer note: It has been two years this coming August. Two years of hope deferred, and as the Psalmist said, it does make the heart sick. Sick with grief, anger, depression and many other emotions. After hearing, “there is not reason why you cannot conceive” you consider the reasons:
            1. Am I not worthy?
            2. Is there something wrong with my spiritual life-a lesson I must learn?
            3. Does God not trust me?
            4. What is it that I am doing or have done that needs to be punished?
            5. Should I drink that second cup of coffee? (You laugh but that is how the mind starts thinking. Every little thing under scrutiny)
Every part of my life becomes scrutinized and evaluated as a reason for my “failure.” The doctor even used the word “failure” when discussing my treatments. Why is it that when a woman cannot bear her own children she is looked at as less. She is judged by every statement from those who think they are giving wise advice.
1.      “If you take a vacation, you are sure to get pregnant”= you work too much
2.      When adoption comes into the picture people say, “Once you start the process of adoption, you will get pregnant”=adoption doesn’t make you a real mother, only having your own child will
3.      People say “stop worrying.” That is easy for them to say and who says I am worrying. They are the ones who keep bringing my “infertility” to the forefront of EVERY conversation. And then proceed to tell you stories about people far removed that have my same “PROBLEM.”
What if this is not a problem but an opportunity, an opportunity to love someone unconditionally just because they are another human being. What if the time is right for me to help someone else with their “problem” of not having a home? All children need to be loved and provided for, kept safe and shown hope. Why can’t we be that for them regardless of their bloodline? The hope of every child in foster care or orphanages is being deferred as well.

I am sorry if some feel that I was too harsh, but I am trying to be honest and show how it truly feels on the rollercoaster of infertility. It was not what people were saying, it was how I felt about myself that colored the reception of the advice. Reading those words really makes me realize how great my God is. The Bible says that we will face trials (hardships) of many kinds but God will give us the strength to endure them. That is one more verse that I can say that I have tested and found true.

In the fall of 2007 we were given the option to pursue IVF. After discussing it for a matter of seconds, Shawn and I knew the answer…NO! It is a personal choice that not all people make, but for us, it is more important to have A family. We wanted a sure thing at this point, no more guess work or self condemnation. So in September we sent in our application for adoption to the Gladney Center for Adoption. We knew that we wanted to adopt internationally but we did not have our hearts set on anything in particular. We had been praying that God would give us peace as we prayed over the various countries we were eligible for. God divinely led us to the country of Ethiopia. I felt like God was bringing me full circle.

The fury of completing a mountain of paperwork, answering questions for a home study and being fingerprinted multiple times was enough to drive a person crazy. Thankfully I am a VERY organized person. On May 23, 2008 our caseworker Jessica called us with exciting news…IT’S A BOY! He was 4 months old and had the biggest most beautiful eyes of any child I had ever seen. The moment I saw his picture I started crying and my heart was filled with a new hope. The weight lifted and I could breathe again. We walked through technicalities and the limited background information effortlessly. And then the words came, “Do you want to think about it and get back with me?” Shawn and I just stared at each other and we knew…NO! We want him, we need him, and he’s ours!

The next couple of months were electric. We had so much energy and enthusiasm for life. We had been informed that the wait to be assigned a court date in Ethiopia could take as long as 6 weeks. Even at that, the court date might be 1 month out from when you are told about it. Armed with that information we began planning a late summer arrival of our new son. However, in June our plans were put on hold. The government of Ethiopia was investigating some illegal activity in regards to adoption. All cases pending in Ethiopia were postponed until further notice. It was a three month lesson in developing patience. Not only did we miss our target time but the rainy season was fast approaching. The rainy season in Ethiopia starts the first week of August and lasts for two months. The problem is that during that time the government shuts down and you are helpless. Towards the end of the summer Jessica calls and tells us that it looks like we will beat the rainy season with a court date of August 4th but a week prior to that date, when reviewing our paperwork, we were missing a document from in-country and our court date was not assigned. This was my turning point. When I stopped relying on what people said or what I thought and started relying on the promises of God.
The Bible talks about a spirit of adoption. It’s not a hard concept but I had never sat down and really pondered its meaning.
Romans 8: 22-25 “For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now. Not only that, but we also who have the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body. For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.”
This journey I can liken to every human beings life. We all have promises from God. The main one being that He will save us and be in relationship with us, our Heavenly Father. We, as believers, rest in that hope. We have faith that these words are true. My son, Kayden, will be home mid-February but does he know that? No, he doesn’t even know we exist. He doesn’t know the heartache, the tears, the joy, or the frustrations we have faced to bring him home. He doesn’t know we are even trying to get to him. We have memorized every dimple, every curl on his head and yet he knows not what we look like. Isn’t that what God has said of us? He knows the number of every hair on your head. Kayden’s hope is to have a family that will love and provide for him. He doesn’t know that the provision has already been made. So we ALL wait, with perseverance, through the testing of our faith, being made strong, groaning and laboring for the day when we see our hopes realized.

Update to this post: Kayden came to his forever home April 24, 2009.