When Their Story Isn't a Fairy Tale

Of late, Shannay has been asking lots of questions about adoption.  There were a couple of colliding factors that prompted these questions.  One was that we were in the pediatrician's office and the only reading material they had in the exam room was pregnancy magazines (weird).  The other factor was that we fostered two babies right in a row, within a week of each other.

For a four year old, both the notion of a baby growing inside of someone, as well as the idea that there are babies who don't have homes, is quite disconcerting and prompts all kinds of questions.

Shannay's questions started off with "Why is her belly so big?" and "Did I grow in your belly?" to "Why doesn't she (the foster baby) live with her mama?"

These might seem like easy questions to some, but with Shannay, you can rest assured that whatever she is verbalizing is just the tip of a very deep iceberg.

Her questions eventually grew to "Are you my real Mama?"  and "Why are we giving her (the foster baby) away?" and "Are you gonna give me away?"

So we've had lots and lots of dialogue about birth moms and real moms and fostering and homelessness and so on.  It's definitely unfamiliar territory to me, and I am constantly praying and looking for books and words about how to talk to my daughters about their story because their story is not an easy one.

This morning, I was up early and working when Shannay got up, came downstairs and snuggled up under my arm while I typed.  In the sidebar of the particular client's blog I was working on was a picture of a Compassion International Child.

Our dialogue went like this:

S:   "Mama, why is that girl so sad?"
M:  "Well, she's probably hungry and dirty and maybe she needs a drink."
S:   "Where is her mama?"
M:  "Well, baby, I don't know.  Maybe she doesn't have a home."
S:   "Why she not have a home?"
M:  "Shannay, some people, even little children, are homeless.  They don't have a place to live or sleep. Isn't that sad?" (I figure, it can't be too early to teach about these things.)
S:   "Mama, we have to help her.  Like we do.  Til her mama can help her or she gets a new mama."

WHAT?!!!  I was stunned at the depth of her understanding.

Now, she wasn't too thrilled that I didn't know who this little girl was or how to get to her to help her.  But I assured her that someone was going to help her, and then we talked a little about Compassion and groups like them.

All that to say, I'm still struggling with the right words to talk to my daughter about her adoption and her very difficult story.  I know at the right time, God will give me just the right words to speak over her and into her heart.  In the meantime, I love that God is already giving her a heart of adoption.

I plan to write about what I am learning and post it to my blog,  "What Color is Family."   You'll find it at ThatCarolJones.com coming March 25th.  (Yes, it's a shameless plug.  Deal with it.) :)

Always Kiss Me Goodnight

When we brought the girls to this house over two years ago (TWO YEARS AGO!), I wanted their room to look like it was "their" room and not an eclectic garage sale version of the room they'd had before when we were fostering them.

Even though we were very grateful for all the furnishings that people had loaned us in the early days, we wanted their room to say, "You belong here.  You are ours."


But I didn't have a lot of money to spend on decorating, and I'm pretty thrifty, so I shopped at a local online resale site and bought matching, white, Jenny Lind cribs.  Then I finished them in high princess fashion, complete with tulle crib skirts and matching, handmade crib blankets.

We were given a really cute little blue rocker (courtesy of a sweet friend, Shauna Maness) as well as an adorable bookshelf that Zack insisted we paint lavender.  And then rounded out the room with a garage sale dresser ($5!) that Zack refinished, and a sweet little lamp and nightstand that I paid $7 for at a garage sale and refinished.

Perhaps the greatest amount of my budget dollars were spent on three pieces of wall art from Pottery Barn and an adorable little sign that says, "Always Kiss Me Goodnight."

I was so proud of that sign.  I attached a piece of pink grosgrain ribbon to the back of it, and hung it from a pink crystal drawer pull that I screwed into the wall between their cribs.

Last night while I was rocking them to sleep, (yes, I still do this . . . they need the skin to skin contact, and it helps them sleep better) I looked at that sign and I was overwhelmed, to the point of tears, at just how far they have come.

Two years ago, when meltdowns were a daily part of our lives, they would stand in their cribs and reach up to that cute little pink sign, barely able to reach the edge of it, and they would push it as hard as they could, causing the sign to swing wildly from that pink knob.  I hated that sign in those days.

But I left it hanging there because it was my reminder that no matter how bad their meltdowns were (and they were very, very bad)  I needed to kiss them goodnight.  It was my reminder that they needed me to kiss them goodnight.  They needed my unconditional love and acceptance, no matter how horribly bad their meltdowns had been or would be.

And every night when I would sing made up lullabies to them, and rock them to sleep, I looked at that sign and begged God to heal their little hearts and minds.

And now, when I look at that sign, I am grateful for the healing work He has done and continues to do.

All that to say, I imagine that sign will always hang somewhere in their room.  It's a great reminder of God's faithfulness to us, to them.

Day 70: What Really Matters

It's quiet in this little space I have carved out to be my home office.  Quiet is a rare commodity in our home these days.

I have one little twin off at Preschool, and her sister is in her room, finally sleeping after an excruciating 5 days of mouth pain.           


Babies should not have to endure that kind of pain, especially babies who have already endured so much.  (I guess technically  she's not a baby; she's a great big 4 year old, but she's our baby.)

Funny, just writing that out.  She's our baby.  Ours.

Some days, when I'm bogged down in the tornado of chaos that threatens to overtake my mind, I am reminded of the storm we lived in for over two years, and the beauty on the other side of that storm.

The adoption process is incredibly, incredibly hard.  And while our process was probably atypical in its origins, I doubt that the overall process was that different from most.

There were days when we lived with the threat that at any day their birth mom could come and take them away from us.  There were days when we were overwhelmed with paperwork and legal ease and court proceedings gone wrong. 

There were days when we wondered if we were doing the right thing, were the right parents, were too old, too set in our ways.  Would we have enough energy, enough time, enough love?

There were many long days and nights and weeks and months of trying to solve the psychological distress of our girls.

So many unanswered questions.  Truth is, there are still so many unanswered questions.

But the one thing that mattered all along . . . the one thing that matters today . . .

We were called to be their parents.  God created us for them.  Our hearts and lives are so deeply knit together that you would never know they were not born into our family. They are indeed, ours, in every conceivable way. 

It's easy to think these things when it's quiet.  And easy to forget them when life gets crazy. 

All that to say, a little quiet is good for the soul.  It helps you remember what's important.  It helps you remember what matters.  And what doesn't.

Photograph Courtesy of Chip Gillespie Photography
www.chipgillespie.com

Day 48: Kool and the Gang?

If you know me at all, then you know that I deeply love my family.  

I love their flaws.

I love their character.

I love their senses of humor.

I love the way they love each other.

I love many things about them, too many to list.

But most of all, I love that at the end of this week, I will be spending a whole lot of time with them.

We are celebrating the 4th birthday of our twins.  And that is incredibly noteworthy, and something worth celebrating.  Because we have traveled this very long road to adoption together.

We have worried together, cried together, laughed together, prayed together, been angry together, been hurt together, rejoiced together, and now . . . now it is time to

CELEBRATE together.

All that to say, for some reason Kool and the Gang is going through my head right now.  And that makes me smile.

Day 41.5 Making Adoption Affordable - Call Today

So, anyone who knows me knows I am not particularly politically savvy or active (other than I vote, and try to do so in an educated way).  Today was the first day I have EVER called my Congressman's office.  I called because this is OBVIOUSLY incredibly close to home for me and many, many people I know.  If you would please make a phone call on my behalf and on behalf of the many families who will/want to adopt children in the future, I would greatly appreciate it. 

Just follow the instructions below.  It took me 3 total minutes to make the call to my Representative Kevin Brady.  A call is better than an email please.

All that to say, thank you for helping make adoption affordable.

                                                         ADVOCACY ALERT, CALL-IN DAY: ADOPTION TAX CREDIT

USE YOUR VOICE: ASK YOUR U.S. REPRESENTATIVE
TO CO-SPONSOR H.R. 4373

Action:

We are contacting you today to urge you to call your Representative in the U.S. House of Representatives. You can reach your Representative by calling the U.S. Capitol Operator at 202-225-3121 and asking for your Representative's office. If you don't know your Representative's name, go to http://www.house.gov/representatives/find/ and enter your zip code in the box provided.

Message: (I LITERALLY JUST READ THIS TO THEM VERBATIM)

• I am a constituent in your district and the adoption tax credit is important to me. (It matters to me because…)
• I urge the Representative to become a co-sponsor of The Making Adoption Affordable Act, H.R. 4373.
• If Congress does not act – the credit as we now know it – will expire in December 2012.
• H.R. 4373 is bipartisan and it supports all types of adoptions (domestic private, foster care, and international adoptions).
• This tax credit has made adoption a more viable option for many parents who might not otherwise have been able to afford adoption, allowing them to provide children with loving, permanent families.
• Thank you for your support of H.R. 4373.

If you want to learn more about the adoption tax credit go to http://adoptiontaxcredit.org/

Also, “like” the Save the Adoption Tax Credit mission on Facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/AdoptionTaxCredit

Thank you for taking a few minutes to make this important phone call!

Again, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to act on this important request!

National Foster Parent Association

Day 35: Blessings of Great Worth

At our church, as a part of our faith and love for Jesus, we have a ceremony where we publicly dedicate our children to the Lord.  I don't really know where the practice of this comes from, but I would venture to guess it comes from the Old Testament where families dedicated their children in the temple.  I know that the meaning of it, for us, is simply a recognition that we are promising God to raise our children to know of His love for them, His sacrifice for them, and His overwhelming grace for them.  And we are making this promise to Him publicly so that those who journey with us will celebrate with us and hold us accountable to this promise.

This morning was our Dedication Ceremony.  Miraculously we made it to church with the girls still clean and pretty in their white princess dresses! (although Nikki did stop at one point to look for bugs in the pine bark mulch!  I almost had a stroke!  She also pulled the roses off of her headband TWICE, and I had to hot glue them TWICE!)

We joined 6 other families on stage and waited as one by one each parent prayed a blessing over their children. The girls were so good while they waited. 

Finally it was our turn.  The Pastor introduced our family and introduced the girls.  It was the first time we heard them called "Jones" publicly.  That made me tear up a little.

After Mike read his blessing over them, first Shannay and then Nikki took turns saying something into the microphone.  It made me nervous.  You never know what a toddler might say!

Finally, our church prayed a blessing of dedication over all the families!

I know the girls have no idea what is happening!  They are just happy that we are happy!

We greatly missed Jacob though.  We each said at different times that we wished Jacob was there.  He lives 3 hours away, and sometimes that really stinks.  Probably for him too!

Here is the blessing we wrote:

Nikki and Shannay,

In Isaiah 45:3 God says “I will give you riches hidden in the darkness and things of great worth that are hidden in secret places,” and you, our daughters, are the fulfillment of that promise.

May God continually watch over you and protect you, drawing you closer to Him daily, that you would know Him and love Him deeply throughout your lives. 

We pray you will always know that He chose you to be ours because you are of the utmost value to Him.  And He chose us to be yours because no one else will love you as fiercely as we do.

You are our riches of great worth.

All that to say, we are blessed.

Day 33: Adoption Day

Their adoption day was originally scheduled for June 11th, but as is often the case with the government and the legal system, things don't turn out the way you plan or want.

We had originally invited a lot of people to be there for their adoption day, but then all of the sudden, paperwork errors caused us to have to postpone the adoption.  So when they told us that we could "try" for the 15th, but they weren't sure it would happen then either,  it just seemed too uncertain to ask people to drive all the way downtown for ANOTHER false alarm.

So on Friday, June 15th, we got up at the crack of dawn (why do babies always come at the crack of dawn?) picked up Zack at his apartment (and wedged his 6 foot 2 inch frame in between the car seats in the back seat of our Trailblazer) and headed for the courthouse in downtown Houston.

Of course, in true Houston fashion there was a terrible wreck on the interstate which caused me to panic about being late, but Mike and Zack navigated those back roads like rock stars and got us there on time.

On the way there, we kept talking to the girls telling them we were on our way to adopt them.  Shannay said, "Will I get a shot?"  I laughed and said, "Not A DOCTOR baby, adopted!"  Once reassured that she was not going to get a shot, she seemed pretty excited, though I am sure she was clueless as to enormity of the day.

I felt so nervous.  My hands were sweaty.  Mike paced the hallways.  Zack and the girls chilled out on a bench watching a movie (I'm sure Zack was nervous too, he just didn't show it!)

Finally, our case was called.  We handled all the yucky details and then the judge said, "Now let's do the fun part!  Let's get those babies in here!"

The second I saw Zack appear at the courtroom door with them I started crying (and I still had testifying to do!)  I answered all of the remaining questions with a squeaky tear-strained "yes."

Nikki kept kissing my eyes and saying, "Mommy, your eyes have water."

And finally, it was over.  The judge said something, I don't remember what.  I just remember feeling incredibly overwhelmed in a great way.  It was done.  They were ours.

All that to say, oddly enough, I felt exactly the way I felt after giving birth.  Tired.  Happy.  Emotional.  Speechless. 

Day 32: Jones Girls

I don't really know how to begin a post of such importance.  Do I start with a poignant remembrance of the first time I saw them?  Do I tell of two years of incredible struggle that I thought might not ever culminate in this moment?  Do I begin with the incredible victorius end and tell the story backward?

I think instead I will just say how my heart feels.

Relieved.

Relieved that the scariness of court is over and the attorneys and judge have all agreed that they should be ours.  The gavel has been swung, the papers have been signed, the pictures have been taken.  They are ours.

Relieved that no one will ever be able to take them from me again.  That I will no longer know the fear of losing them to a legal system and foster care system that is broken, broken, broken.

Relieved that there is a spiritual separation from the death and darkness that once held them captive.

Relieved that their sweet names are our names, forever joined to our family.

Relieved that I am their Mama.

All that to say, they are Jones Girls.  Welcome to the club babies.

Day 22: Simple Pleasures

When the girls got up from their naps yesterday, we went outside to play in the yard. ( It's a weird phenomena that happens around here;  people all sit in their front yards and the kids all play in the front yards -instead of the backyards - and people even have BIG SCREEN tv's in their garages and have garage parties . . . but I digress)

So, while we were outside, Nitro discovered a standing puddle of water.  She looked up at me as if to say, "Can I get in this?" so I walked over, inspected to be sure there were no ants floating in it, and then gave her the go ahead signal.  She looked at me with questioning eyes, still unsure I had actually said YES to her request to play in muddy water.

But I'm working on saying YES to things that I can say yes to, instead of having this rigid world of "NO" around them all the time.  (This has included yes to sleeping in a grass hula skirt, and yes to wearing click clacks to the grocery store.)

So she sat down in her WHITE shorts  (yes, I said WHITE . . . someone, somewhere better be applauding the strength it took me to be able to say YES to this moment!) and took off her sandals, then walked back over to the puddle and tentatively put her toes in the water. It didn't take long at all before she was jumping up and down in the water puddle, making the best mud puddle you have ever seen.

Over and over and over and over she just jumped up and down.  And each time she did it, it was as though she had never done it before.  Squeals of delight mixed in with an occasional glance of "are you sure this is okay, Mom?" filled our front yard and eventually drew her sister over to see what was going on.  I laughed out loud when her sister, Shortstack, looked up at me and pointed at her sister.  I could not tell if her accusing glance was toward her sister, as if to say, "do you see what she is doing?" or if it was at me, as if to say, "What are you doing letting her play in the mud and in white shorts no less?" 

But once I told Shortstack she could play too, she took off her shoes, ran to jump in (in her white leggings!), but then chickened out, and instead she jumped over it.  And then a new game was formed.  The "jump over the puddle" game.  And for a solid 10 minutes both girls jumped over the puddle, ran around it and jumped over it again.  Of course there were some occasional "oops, I accidentally jumped into the puddle" moments as well.  Which truly were accidents for Shortstack, but no so much for Nitro!

As I watched them play I was suddenly struck with how little it takes for them to truly treasure and embrace the simple things in life.  They have a garage and house filled with toys, but all they really needed was a warm day and a mud puddle.  They truly just embrace the moments as they come.

I need to be more like that.  Just embracing the moments as they come.  Enjoying the simple pleasures that are right here in front of me, instead of looking for ways to enjoy life more.

All that to say, "God give me eyes today to see the simple pleasures, and then help me to embrace them." 

Day 20: Two Years

We all know and say that time goes by so quickly (unless of course you are waiting for it to be bedtime for twin three year olds . . . then it drags on forever . . .)  But as a general rule, time does indeed seem to go by so quickly.

We get so caught up in the mundane and even joyful details of our daily lives, that before we know it, days, weeks, months, and years have gone by in a blur.

Two years ago . . . TWO YEARS AGO . . . Mike and I and our sons set out on a journey that has changed our lives forever.

On April 7th, 2010, two sweet babies came to our house, rescued from a life of unspeakable things.

Here they are on their 1st full day at our house.  I remember that they slept for 14 hours.  And I remember thinking how odd it was that they didn't eat breakfast.  (Strange the memories that I have stored away!)  They were mostly non-verbal, but man could they communicate!  They had some

at-ti-tudes!  If they wanted it, they would hit, kick, scratch and scream to get it.  We often said, "be sweet" throughout the day, so it was no surprise to us that Shortstack's first words to us were "Be Sweet."

Within just a few short weeks, we saw so much improvement.  Their skin and hair began to grow and get healthy.  They started eating.  They slept through the night.  They laughed.  And eventually, they spoke.

After leaving our home for a permanent adoption home, and then a brief stay back with their birth mom, God determined that they would come back to our home. 

Fast forward two years and we find ourselves soon to be the forever family of these beautiful girls. I have a million thoughts going through my mind about this and all that it means for us, and for them, and for our family.  But I will just say this.  God has a plan.  And none of us can imagine the things that He has in store for us.  But in His time, He unfolds them. 

All that to say, to God be the glory, great things He has done.

Day 19: Watching Miracles Unfold

Sometimes it is incredibly difficult to know just exactly how the messages I am sending are being received in our daughters' brains.  I'm sure the parent of any toddler would probably say the same thing!  I often have to remind myself that EVERYTHING my girls say and do cannot and should not be connected to their abuse prior to coming to our home.  Some of the things they say and do are perfectly normal in the realm of toddlerdom.

That said, I also know that their little brains got miswired along the way and now they don't always process the things we say in the right way.  And sometimes, when they cannot act, think, say, or do what they want to, they meltdown.  And once they are melting down, they cannot self-regulate.  They cannot get themselves back to a normal state without a lot of help.

This process of self-regulation is a big goal for them. It involves both their ability to NOT meltdown in the first place, as well as their ability to get back to neutral once they have melted down. Anyway, one of the things we do to teach them this process is something that is known quite simply as a "redo." 

Once they are calm, we re-enact the crime (if you will) and this time they act appropriately, speak politely, don't freak out, don't melt down, don't punch anyone.  You know.  They self-regulate.  Supposedly, this helps their brain remember how to act in the future.

We are always, and I mean ALWAYS the initiators of the "redo."  But tonight, a miracle happened.  Shortstack was having a meltdown because she wanted to go bye-bye with her daddy, but she wouldn't get off the bike and go in the house, so we told her she couldn't go with him.  MELTDOWN.  But then, without warning, she stood up, walked over to me, calmed herself and said, "Can I have a redo?"

WHAT?!! YES!!!  Omgosh!!! 

I know this doesn't seem really monumental to most people, but to us, this was a MAJOR step toward her own self-regulation.  She stopped her own meltdown.  Suggested her own redo.  She regulated!  And that helps us see that her brain is healing.  Her brain is FREAKING HEALING!!!!

I'm seriously beside myself and just couldn't wait to share it with you all.

All that to say, the beautiful little girl she was created to be is slowly finding its way out.  I love watching miracles unfold.

Day 15: Wisely Informed

I am a learner by nature. When faced with an unfamiliar task, job, problem, I do everything I can to educate myself about it.  I chalk this up to my analytical brain that likes to dissect things, reach the "aha" moment, and then move forward, armed with information.

I actually find it quite exhilarating to learn new things. 
Examples?

•  When I had a child in my ministry who was deaf and had only her parents to sign for her at church, I learned sign language so I could help her and her parents.
• When I taught first grade and wanted to make up songs to sing with my kids (I read that singing helps things stick in your long term memory banks better!), I learned how to play the guitar.
• When I became a Children's Pastor, I read and learned all I could about that, until eventually people started telling me that I should be writing books about Children's Ministry!

And now I am a mom of special needs kids.  When words like post traumatic stress disorder and proprioceptive input disorder and regressive attachment disorder and vestibular dysfunction get thrown at you,  (just to name a few) you have a couple of choices, as I see it.  You can either crawl back in bed, pull the blankets over your head and moan, or you can arm yourself with information, get a plan, and move forward!

I think the best way I can really help my babies heal is to learn how to help them.  So I read.  And I read.  And I talk to specialists.  And I listen to podcasts.  And I read some more.

And I will tell you this, I am ARMED with information right now as it relates to my girls and their disorders!

But I have also learned (the hard way, sadly) that I must balance my need to seek information with my need to seek God.  For some reason, I find it so much easier to "put on my thinking cap" than I do to sit at the feet of Jesus.  I'm so much like Martha of the Bible.  Always busy doing something, even if it's something good (like arming myself with information).

Of late, I have been so absorbed in learning about how to help our daughters, that I think I have forsaken the One who has the answers.

All that to say, information is important, but wisdom is priceless.  I cannot afford to simply be informed.

Day 12: Forever

Today was an incredibly big day in the life of our family, and more specifically in the life of our two little girls.  And for the sake of the birth mother's privacy, I will not divulge the details of the day's events.  But because I saw that over 100 people have viewed my blog already today, I kinda sorta knew that people were looking for some information.

In April of 2010, two little twin girls came to live in our home, where they found safety, and security, and stability, and deep love.  Their lives prior to that time were lives of turmoil.  If you let your minds wander to very difficult and dark places, you would most likely encounter a piece of their past.

After 11 weeks with us, they left our home because we were by name a "rescue" family.  Which simply means that their stay with us was designed to be temporary until a more permanent home could be found for them.  Through a series of events they ended up back in the home of their birth mom who called me one day to come back and get them.  We have had them ever since.

I cannot recall the exact moment that I knew that God was calling us to adopt them, but both Mike and I knew that when they came back to our home the second time, they were supposed to be ours forever.  This was confirmed through so many people and so many prayers.  So, after almost a year of them living in our home, we filed for permanent legal custody.

Since that day, we have had to keep our eyes focused on our Creator because everything else was just too much to handle.  "One day at a time," He would say over and over to me in my quiet times alone with Him.  "I've got this," He would say when I felt the need to control things.  "Just trust me, Carol," He would say when I doubted.

So yesterday was an incredible day.  A day that legally paved the way for them to be forever ours. 

But I cannot forget that while yesterday was a beautifully joyful day for us, it was an incredibly difficult day for a young mom who made a very difficult and selfless decision for these two girls.  I know that her heart must be heavy this morning.  And while people are telling us, "Congratulations!" and "What a miracle!" there is no one in her life telling her the things she needs to hear.  So please pray for her today.  Just pray for Mama K and ask God to comfort her heart and to always tell her what a great thing she did today.

All that to say, Forever.  It's a big word, and one I doubted I might ever hear in the context of our daughters.  Thank you God that you are a God that works miracles.

Day 8: That's My Jesus Oil

We had a healing service tonight at our church.  For those of you who might not understand this, it means that we gathered together, worshipped Jesus, and asked God to heal our afflictions, whether emotional, physical or spiritual.

We took the girls with us for a couple of reasons.  One, because they love to sing.  And Wednesdays are a good night for little children to be in the service.  It's a lot less formal.  And two, because they still struggle with some things in their past (emotionally struggle) and we wanted to ask God to heal their precious little hearts and minds.

As we waited for the portion of the service where they would invite people forward for prayer, Shortstack noticed all of the musicians on the stage.  She said, "Mama, is he playing his piano for Jesus?"  And I said, "Yes."

"Is that one playing his drums for Jesus?"

"Yes."  (in my head I thought, "There is a keyboard player, a pianist, a drummer, 3 guitar players and a vocalist on stage, I wonder if she is going to ask me if every SINGLE one of them is playing for Jesus.") . . . she did.

"Is he playing his guitar for Jesus?  Is he playing his guitar for Jesus?  Is he playing his guitar for Jesus?  Is she singing for Jesus?"  YES, YES Oh my gosh YES!

She sat quietly for a minute and then she said, "Mama, Jesus is so so happy right now."

smile.

Then, at the portion of the service where we were invited to come forward for healing, we went.  And the elder who prayed over us annointed each of our foreheads with oil.  Shortstack was in awe.  Nitro wanted to touch everyone's oil. :)

As we walked out of the worship center at the end of the prayer time, Shortstack ever so lightly touched her forehead and said, "That's my Jesus oil.  It's from Jesus."

smile.

All that to say, I love the sweet and innocent way little children talk about Jesus.  They're just in such awe of everything about Him.  Maybe that's why He tells us to be like a little child.

Day 6: Justice

I was reading my Bible this morning and I read these verses in Psalm 36.

Lord, your love reaches to the heavens, your loyalty to the skies.
Your goodness is as high as the mountains.
Your justice is as deep as the great ocean.

For some reason, I felt the greatest sense of peace wash over me as I read those words.  I read them again.

Lord, your love reaches to the heavens, your loyalty to the skies.

Your goodness is as high as the mountains.
Your justice is as deep as the great ocean.

My eyes became fixed upon that last line.

Your justice is as deep as the great ocean.

Justice is a word I think about a lot lately because of the girls.  We truly do not know what will happen with them because there is a justice system involved, one that by its own admission is blind.

But the justice of the Lord is not blind. His justice sees all.  His justice bears out an eternal perspective.   I can trust it.  Because it is as deep as the great ocean.  And because He is good.  His goodness is as high as the mountains.

And though trusting His goodness and His justice does not mean that things will absolutely turn out the way I think they should, I can trust that they will turn out the way that He has chosen.  And because I know that He is good and just and righteous and holy and infinitely loving, I trust His decisions for me. And for my family.

All that to say, I'm so grateful for a justice that runs as deep as the great ocean.  I don't know exactly how deep that is, but it sounds pretty vast.  And if God is for us, who can be against us?

Day 106: Simply Miraculous

I started to tell Shortstack the Christmas story the other night.  I kinda wish I had one of those Little Tyke's Nativity Sets.  I think it would make the telling a little easier.

I don't think I have ever really thought about how bizarre the story of Jesus' birth sounds until I tried to relate it to a 3 year old.

She kept looking at me like, "huh?"

I started saying, "It's almost Christmas!  Do you know what Christmas is?"

No response.

"It's Jesus' birthday.  Isn't that exciting?"

"We have cake?" she asked.

"Well we could have cake, I suppose."

"You know when Jesus was born,  he was a tiny, tiny baby, and everyone came to see him."

"They came to his house?"

"Well, not exactly.  You see when he was born he was not at his house.  He was in a manger . . . ummm, a barn.   With a bunch of animals."

"They had a party wif old mcdonald?"

"Well, no, not Old Mcdonald.  It was a barn not a farm.  And his mama made him a bed in the hay when he was born.  And everyone came to see him.  Angels, and shepherds and wisemen."

"His mommy in da barn?"

"Yes, Mary was his mommy and she loved him very much.  And she named him Jesus."

"He had a birtday and they sing and they eat cake and they bow out the tandles?"

Nitro pipes in here and says, "Cake?"

I didn't even get to the part about the shepherds in the field  and the singing angels and King Herod and Joseph and the donkey and the whole "no room at the inn" thing or the virgin birth!  (Well, I'll probably skip the whole "virgin birth" part for a few more years at least.)

All that to say, I think I take for granted just how miraculous Christmas really is.  Simply miraculous.  A beautiful story.  One that I will have to learn how to tell to a couple of three year olds!

Day 104: Married to Jesus

Explaining the concept of marriage to a three year old is not easy. 

For many days, Shortstack has been asking questions about getting married.  She said she wanted to marry Zack, but when I explained that Christina was marrying Zack, she was none too happy.

So then she said she was going to marry Daddy.  When I explained that Daddy was already married to Mommy she held up her pointer finger and shook it back and forth at me and said, "no, no, no."  But Daddy corroborated my story, so she begrudgingly accepted her fate.

Finally, I encouraged her by telling her that someday she was going to get married.  And she was going to marry an incredible man that loved Jesus more than anything else.  And that he was going to love her as much as he loved Jesus, and that he was going to treat her like a princess.

So yesterday, suddenly and without warning, she announced that she was going to get married. 

"I'm gettin mah-weed," she said, matter-of-factly.

"You are?"  I exclaimed with surprise.  "Who are you marrying?"

She said, "I'na mahwee Jesus.  I be a princess."

All that to say, I guess there's some deep theology packed into that statement.  Love it.

Day 103: I'n a Power Girl

We've been talking a lot about weddings in our house lately, due to the fact that the "wedding season" is now in high gear in our household (and probably Christina's household as well!)  The shower gifts have taken over our spare bedroom.  There is much talk of dresses and alterations and hostess gifts and receptions and guest lists.

So it is no small wonder that Shortstack has clued in to the fact that "something" is going on. 

Last week, I went to Bed Bath and Beyond to purchase a gift for the engaged couple, and I took both girls with me.  Shortstack's favorite question is always, "What happened, Mama?"  So as we waited our turn to talk to the registry lady, she kept asking over and over and over, "What happened, Mama?" Which really translates to "Why are we here?"

In my most patient mother of toddlers voice I tried to explain that Zack and Christina are getting married and that we were there to buy them a present. 

"They have a party?" she asked.  "Well, yes, sort of," I said. 

So then I explained what a wedding was, and how she was going to go and that she would even get to be a flower girl and throw flowers and everything.

I could tell she didn't quite get it when she started telling all the passersby that she was getting married.  Oh well.  It was cute. :)

A few days ago we started practicing being flower girls.  It was a sight to behold.  Nitro didn't really get it at all.  I have a feeling she's going to be a hoot at the wedding.  On her first try she dropped a few flowers on the floor, then took a few steps forward.  Then at my command to "drop a few more flowers" she turned around, went back to her original pile of flowers and dropped some more flowers into that pile. . . . hmmmm.

Then on her second try, she walked backwards.

Then last night, she did a good job walking slowly and dropping flowers as she went.  But when she got to the very end of the pretend aisle, she looked down into her bucket, realized she still had rose petals, and she threw them all up in the air (confetti style) and shouted "Woohoo!"  Like I said, Nitro's going to be a hoot!

But Shortstack has got it down.  She is all about the walking and dropping flowers and being a princess.  The only thing we need to work on is her desire to eat the flowers.  She may or may not have tasted a couple during practice.

This morning, when I was dressing her she said, "Mama, I'n a power girl."  (Translated, "I'm a flower girl.")  No, "Good morning."  No sleepy yawns.  Just a pronouncement.  "I'm a power girl."

All that to say, toddlerville is hard work, but you laugh a LOT!  Wouldn't it be awesome if laughter burned calories?

Day 102: Don't Mess with Texas? Don't Mess with Mommies!

Mike and I were having a conversation the other day in the car about being adoptive parents and how we wondered if there was a moment in the life of an adoptive parent when you know beyond the shadow of a doubt that your adopted kids are REALLY yours.  What moment cements that into your heart?

I believe I had that moment yesterday.

I always say that I have pretty thick skin unless you say something bad about my kids.  And that is incredibly, incredibly true.  It's not that I am unaware of my children's shortcomings.  I know they aren't perfect.  I'm okay with being told they weren't nice to their peers today, or they aren't making good grades, or anything else along those lines.  There's just a line, and when it's crossed, it's not pretty.

Today, something happened at church related to the girls.  (I'm not going to go into the details, because that ISN'T the point of this blog today)  Someone said a few things to me, about them, that absolutely crushed me.  Though their words were well-intentioned, they shot like arrows deep into the softest places in my heart.  The place where a mother's love is.

To say I cried a little or got my feelings hurt for them would be a grand understatement.  I burst into tears.  I cried buckets in the hallway of church. I cried so hard I had to leave church, which happens to be my job, by the way. I cried all the way home.  I'm talking UGLY crying here people.  Swollen face, red eyes, snot flowing, ugly crying.  And I cried off and on all day long.  Because my mother's heart hurt for my babies.  Every time I thought about it again, I cried.

And I realized last night, that yesterday was my  moment.  The moment that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that those girls are mine (well, ours). It's cemented into my heart.

All that to say, people might think I'm a pretty tough cookie.  And though I might crumble at first, I'm even tougher when it comes to my kids, any of the four of them.  Don't mess with Texas?  Don't mess with Mommies!

Day 87: Peace

Some trust in chariots and some trust in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord, our God. Psalm 20:7

I waited outside the doors of family court this morning.  I had been briefed on what to expect as it related to our hearing today.  Pretty simple stuff, really, in the grand scheme of things.  We would ask the court for temporary orders that would give us custody of the girls until a permanent determination for their placement can be made.  The decision for permanent placement could be over by Thanksgiving, or it could take as long as 18 months. 

Short version of the story.  We were awarded custody.

The day was not without drama, none of which I can really share with you, and none of which really matters anyway, and none of which is the point of this post.

As I sat in the hallway outside the many family courts (there were like 8 courtrooms, not just one),  I was struck with this thought.  "People's lives are being devastated all day long in this hallway."  There was an overwhelming sense of despair and hoplessness there.  You could almost touch it.  You could most assuredly see it.  It was etched deep into the lines of the faces on display.

There was a young woman crying, her mother comforting her.  There were two very jaded CPS workers discussing the merits of their case.  There was a woman and her husband of 18 years who were divorcing and fighting over their house and children.  At one point I leaned over and introduced myself to her and asked her if I could pray for her in some way.  She leaned her head back against the wall, closed her eyes, letting one tear slowly fall down her cheek and whispered, "peace.  just pray for peace."

 And there was no privacy for anyone.  Attorneys and clients and plaintiffs and defendants all argued and discussed their cases right out there in the open.  I was overcome by how little diginity anyone was afforded.

I leaned my head back against the wall, closed my eyes, and prayed for peace.  Peace for Arnita who was losing her children; for Tawnya who was losing her husband and her family, for court workers and cps workers and judges who have become so jaded by all they have seen over the years. 

And I said, "Lord, I realize that each day I fight not to place my trust in man and all our many systems.  I can only trust you.  You are going to be my only sense of peace; my only sense of hope in all of this.  Make me strong enough not to be tempted to trust anything or anyone else."

All that to say, today was a win for us.  And I am celebrating that.  But for some reason, I feel like mourning, and I feel a tremendous weight for those I encountered today.  God give them peace.