Isaiah 43:19

Isaiah 43:19

Monday, September 15, 2014

Is there something on my face?

A few weeks ago I heard our youngest son in his precious toddler voice ask me, "Me pretty Mommy?"  As I turned to say yes, I was greeted with this face!




All I could see was joy from one side of his face to the other (and just a little of his teenage sister's mascara)!  He wanted to hear something wonderful, something so sweet.  He wanted me to see him and the great work he just did!  "Yes baby, you are pretty", I told him as I picked him up to kiss him.  He then asks, "You pretty Mommy?" and extends the mascara to my face! 

That moment with him has really had me reflecting on what has been on my face.

I had thought I would get to write in July and it just turned into a whirlwind.  I think throughout the last months I may have worn hundreds of different emotions.

We received dates to travel quickly to meet the children we are adopting.  We have never left our children EVER and suddenly we had to leave them for two and a half weeks, it was so painful.  All our fundraising for July needed to be canceled and we had a huge fee due ($8000).  So many emotions with finally meeting our children, and so many emotions we never could have imagined facing or experiencing!  Emotions that were so much better than I could have expected and emotions that came from pain I have never known until now.   

Even though it has been a wide range of emotions, I know what I desire to wear.  It makes me think of everytime someone tells our oldest daughter she looks like me and she kinda gives a little laugh.  I look at what I have been wearing on my face at times and I have to laugh and maybe cry.... did I forget?  Did I actually question for even one moment that while everything was changing that TRUTH had changed? 

I truly don't want my circumstances to be what is shown on my face, but maybe more of a reflection of what I am experiencing.  And in whatever everyday looks like and even right now when there are still so many emotions we are working through what I want that reflection to be is that I am experiencing God in all of it....  tears, praises, when I am struggling and clinging to Him or when I am conquering something in His great name, when I find myself in the valley or desert place or on the mountaintop I am experiencing Him and when I don't have words or cannot stop singing His praises I am still in it all experiencing HIM.

Early on when we started our adoption, the book Reflections on the Seven Realities of Experiencing God spoke so much to myself and our children as we read through it for devotion time.  Starting right in the introduction, "Experiencing God is so much more than a Bible study course.  It is truly a way of life..."  "It is the only life that is really worth living.  For when God awakens in you a thirst for spiritual things, nothing else can satisfy your hunger for meaning and purpose but a real-life encounter with the living God."   

Reality #1 is:  God is always at work around you.
Reality #2:   God Pursues A Love Relationship with you.
Reality #3:  God invites you to join Him in His work.
Reality #4:  God speaks to His People.
Reality #5:  God's invitation leads to a crisis of belief.
Reality #6:  Joining God Requires Major Adjustment
Reality #7:  You experience God as you obey Him.

So here it goes.... here is what has been on my face....

Our oldest children would be on a mission trip the first week we were in Bulgaria and at church camp the last week.  That left our 4 youngest ones together.... but we wouldn't be with them and it hurt so much.  I had never seen my husband cry in 15 years of marriage the way he did when we took our children to stay with a very close family.  We wore pain that day.  I didn't know how on this earth we could do this.  My ten year old looks at me and says through her tears, "I don't think I can do this".  I can almost not see her I am crying so hard, "I don't think I can do this either.  I can't go."  She stops, she wipes her tears and leans in to wipe mine, "You have to go!"  She kissed me and tried to smile.  So many hugs, so many kisses.... and then we were on our way.

I have never flown, neither of us have ever visited another country.  We were shuffling through airports, we were on flights for what seemed like forever, and then we landed in a beautiful country where we would finally meet the children we have loved and waited so long to see.

Our bus ride to the region that "Sophia" lives in was suppose to be 4 hours but was much longer.  It was hot, the air conditioning stopped at one point and started dripping water onto all the seats.  I could only laugh...there were fields and fields of sunflowers we drove by, we would see our daughter in just one more day, the air smelled like roses literally...  I wore anticipation on my face that day and maybe a little wonder.

I remember when we pulled up to "Sophia's" orphanage....I began to feel anxious.  What would it be like, I know she may not understand what is going on it may take her a couple days to allow us to show her any affection.  We waited and waited and waited.  In the meantime the youngest little girls in the orphanage were coming down the steps.  They could have only been maybe three and under.  One little girl waved and waved at us.  Another stood on the steps and stared.  The little one that waved went back and helped the other down the stairs as the nanny called to them.  I really felt like I could not wait any longer.  We were called into a room.  The director began to tell us how despite everything our daughter has endured she is so joyful.  She began to cry and said they worried no one would ever come for her, that no one would see past her medical needs and come.  She said that our daughter has a very close friend.  This friend has even more medical needs she said.  She shared that her friend had a family that had already come to meet her but could not finish the adoption.  The director said that she and the nannies were very concerned at what this will do for her friend "Sadie" to see "Sophia" now has a family.  They both stay together in a building that housed children that are bedridden and nonverbal when we were there.  She went on to say that the night before we came "Sophia" and "Sadie" talked while they were in their cribs.  "Sophia" could not sleep she was so nervous and she asked "Sadie", "what if they don't like me".  "Sadie" replied, they are going to love you.  And "Sophia" says, "then we must buy cake to celebrate"!  Just as she finishes telling us this, she says "here she comes" and points to the window.  There she was!  Suddenly I am so nervous...  I have no idea what to expect.  The door begins to open and before I can even see her she yells "Mamma!!!!!"  They brought her to me and she grabs my hand right away...and smiles and smiles".  She absolutely loves holding hands and reaches to always have her hand touching one of us.  That day how silly of me...  I know I wore anxiousness...but oh how it melted away with her smile! 

We spent everyday with "Sophia" and "Sadie".  We would play hide and seek pushing them in their strollers, they could blow bubbles for hours, draw for hours, make bead jewelry for hours.  The more time we spent together it was easy to see these girls were so much more than friends... they were life to each other.  "Sophia" wore a big smile the entire time!  "Sadie" would kick her little legs each time we arrived.  The translator would ask our daughter a question and she would just look at her and smile.  "Sadie" would say, "you aren't saying anything" or if she did answer she would tell her to use sentences and not just yes or no.  If we laughed, "Sadie" would repeat whatever she just heard us say in English and then laugh really hard too...she would then look at the translator and ask, "what are we laughing at?"

One day when we arrived I heard a voice shouting "Mama, Mama" inside the building were they stay.  I looked at our translator and asked if she thought it was "Sophia" and she said maybe.  Just then they brought her through the door and she shouted again, "Mama"!!  I cannot wait to be able to share that picture.  The nannies said the evening before that "Sadie" cried very hard for us when we left.  When it was time to take our daughter for her visa picture it was the very first time that "Sadie" would not be with us.  She stared and stared silently while she watched them getting "Sophia" all ready for her picture.  The smile "Sadie" always had was gone.  I wondered if she was thinking about when she went for her own visa picture just a few months earlier.  If she was thinking of the family that had come to meet her.  It was time to leave for the picture and "Sophia" looked lovely.  All smiles of course.  She sat between my husband and I holding both of our hands and yes...smiling, smiling, smiling.  During the pictures they kept telling her not to smile and she didn't seem to know how not to.  The director was absolutely right...."Sophia" is joyful!  When we got back, they changed her into different clothes.  They explained her catheter to me.  As we were getting ready to go outside "Sadie" asks "will Sophia be the only one outside with Mama and Papa today".  I walked over and kissed her face, spoke for the translator to tell her.  "No, you will come too."  And there was her smile again.  When it was time to say our last good byes, "Sophia" hugged us and smiled.  "Sadie" was struggling to try and smile... you could see it.  Her little chest started to heave and you could tell she was holding back tears.  The nannies said that the night before our last visits the girls laid in their cribs talking again.  "Sadie" told "Sophia" she would miss her but was happy for her.  They said "Sophia" told "Sadie", "my family will find you a family"....and with that promise between them, they both fell asleep.  We wore so many emotions during our time there.  Anxiousness then joy.  More joy and then sadness to leave "Sophia" and "Sadie".  Even our translator cried as we left.

Then we started the long bus ride back.  We were so excited even through the sadness of leaving the girls, to be meeting our next daughter in just one more day.  We sat there in a room, waiting for "Mary Ellen" to be brought in.  Finally the door opened.  She was being held awkwardly and she was making a high pitched sound.  They put her in my arms.  She was finally after eight months in my arms.  Everyone kept meeting, and I spoke to her and cried that she was finally with us.  It wasn't long and I began to wonder if she could hear me.... or see me.  When the meeting was done, I told the translator I didn't think "Mary Ellen" could see or hear.  We had brought little bells for her to play with... our translator rang them by her but she did not react.  They brought food for us to feed her... she could not see the spoon.  "Mary Ellen" screamed and screamed .... she wanted in her crib.  She did not tolerate being touched.  Only moments into the visit the psychologist was saying we would only be able to visit 20 minutes a day because it was too upsetting to "Mary Ellen".  Our translator went to speak to the director and it was approved that we would be able to visit as planed twice a day a couple hours in the morning and three hours in the afternoon.  However, we had to agree to leave if "Mary Ellen" became too upset.  I am not sure what I wore on my face most of those days.  If it was nice we could go outside and only then if she was in the stroller and not moved she might not cry.  The doctor at the orphanage refused to consider that "Mary Ellen" could not see or hear and said it was a matter of opinion to the translator.  The psychologist had insisted she could until one visit she sat with us and tried and tried to have her react to anything visually or to any sound.  She then explained that "Mary Ellen" had been doing so well and even trying to talk last fall.  Then her shunt failed and she no longer was responding.  My heart hurt, I couldn't even take it all in.  Our foundation called us in for a meeting one afternoon to discuss how hard the visits were on "Mary Ellen".  Our translator had been taking video and pictures.  They were very concerned.  First, they had met "Mary Ellen" before her shunt had failed and didn't know her needs had changed.  They were grieving what they saw.  During the meeting we discussed our homestudy and the concern that it may not be approved for "Mary Ellen's" new needs.  They stated that children with this level of medical needs do get adopted (another child from Mary Ellen's orphanage in a similar state of health is being adopted), but they said it is best when the family knows the needs and are prepared to care for them prior to meeting the child.  We asked to continue visits.  We were allowed.  We showered "Mary Ellen" with love every moment.  We couldn't think through much at that time, we couldn't comprehend what had happened or what it could mean, we just loved.  The last day "Mary Ellen" was more agitated then usual.  She screamed and screamed and wouldn't stop even if she was laying down.  They finally said we had to go.  That afternoon our translator called to say the foundation felt it was best that we do not go to the last visit.  I asked would they please reconsider.... she put me on hold and then came back to say okay.  We had visa pictures the day before... and here we were asking to please keep our visit.  when we arrived she was calmer than she had been any of the days.  The translator thought that "Mary Ellen" may have been given something to help calm her.  We were so grateful for that time.  "Mary Ellen" would be sent for an evaluation outside of the orphanage.  We would need to wait for the appointment that was the day we would leave the country, and then wait for it to be translated.  So many different emotions, so much to process, and so many different ways it could turn out.  And that is what was there on my face... something numb, something blank...something or maybe nothing.  I'm not sure.  I didn't want to leave her.  I covered her face with kisses as they reached to take her.  She is beautiful.  I just want to hold her once more. 

We had two more days in her region before we could travel to meet our son.  Knowing she was just two stops away on the subway but we couldn't see her... or would we ever see her, those were very long days.

Then the day came and we were on the bus to go meet our son.  The trip wasn't as long as when we traveled to meet "Sophia".  It was the evening before we would meet "Alonzo" and our translator didn't know where the orphanage was located.  It was a wonderful surprise to find out that "Alonzo" had been transferred to a small group home and it was only blocks from our hotel.  We had passed it as we walked to the hotel!  The next day I wasn't sure what to feel.  Everything we experienced already....what would this be like?  As we approached the gate many boys are coming... and there he is!  He is shouting something.  Our translator smiles, "he's saying are they mine, are they mine, are they mine "!  Our son, um yeah we got to see him through some pretty good tantrums.  They said he is the baby there so maybe this is how he got his way?  We took out the art set we brought him and the woman that all the children were calling for sat and told him to paint with us.  He was so upset... he started mumbling.  Then she asked him to write his name....  he cleared the table and cried, "why are you making me do school?"  I smiled as the translator told me that is what he said.... then later at the hotel I looked at my husband and said, "I'm going to be the one teaching him...and he doesn't like school or writing his name or painting"!  One of the evenings we were walking down the street (you can only visit during the times they allow for us again it was two hours in the morning and almost three in the afternoon), "Alonzo" spotted us.  He called to us.  One of the nannies came out (she spoke Spanish) and said that he wanted us to know he helped her make pizza for dinner.  And the next thing we know he squeezed through the gates and started running to us.... the nannies all started running and flipping through their keys to open the gate!  He has a certain look he gives when he is about to do something mischievous.

There were so many amazing boys there.  A boy missing parts of his feet and hands that loved to show us his dance moves, play soccer with my husband, and had the most beautiful handwriting.  This boy was so compassionate.  He would keep taking our son aside and tell him to visit with us, that we came so far just to meet him.  He has a family adopting him, they already met.  He is going to be a wonderful son!!

  Another boy that wants a family so much!  Gentle and kind!  He pushes the children in their wheel chairs and loves to cook the meals.  He was very sad when all the boys would bring out their photo albums of families.  He told the translator it isn't fair that "Alonzo" wouldn't sit with us and visit when he wants a family so much.  We gave him the photo album we took for "Mary Ellen" since she couldn't keep it.  He said it was fine that it was pink because what mattered most was what was on the inside.  He is wonderful!

One afternoon I tried to tell my son a story about a farmer.  You tell the story on a child's back.  He didn't wait for the end and got up.  The two boys I just mentioned had been sitting there and listening.  They looked worried and said something to the translator.  She said, "they wanted to know what happens to the farmer".  I asked her if they just want to hear the story or if they wanted to have me tell them on their backs.... they both jumped up and came over for me to do the story.  Those boys so blessed us!

And another special blessing there who has a family that is adopting him also blessed us.  He would give us kisses and kisses and tell us to give them to his mother.  He has very poor eye-sight, but his smile is incredible and he has so much affection he doesn't know what to do with it all. 

Every child we met there was amazing, resilient, an overcomer, funny, special.  We must have had so much on our faces....  laughter and awe I am sure in the midst of so many amazing children.

When it was time to leave and start the journey home again, it was right after 4am when our cab came.  I looked down the street that was usually full of people.  I cried the entire way to the airport.  It was beautiful to be going home to our children, but we were leaving children we loved behind until we could come back.  And we still didn't know what would happen with Mary Ellen.

We were finally home.  The families that traveled at the same time were posting so many wonderful updates.  I was for the most part silent.  I started to receive strong emails about "Mary Ellen" and how we had to bring her home.  Messages that asked if were we saying God was wrong.  We were making phone calls, writing emails trying to find out if it was even possible for our homestudy to be approved for these new needs.  Our agency wanted us to have a complete understanding that this wasn't a matter of more delays for "Mary Ellen" but that she would require a completely different level of medical care.  Our pediatrician said she could no longer giver her approval since she does not feel that the specialist that may be required would be available in our area.  She felt that "Mary Ellen's" needs would require most of our attention and that it would be very hard for us to meet the needs of "Sophia" and "Alonzo" as well as our other children.  Our home study worker did not feel comfortable making the change to our homestudy.  She reminded us that we were honest during the meetings which needs we did not feel prepared to care for.  "Mary Ellen" had three of those needs.  She knew that we considered carefully our answers during our meetings with her and she felt it would not be in "Mary Ellen's" best interest or our families for her to disregard the information from our meetings.  We waited for the medical report and thought maybe it would show something else, that maybe somehow we were completely wrong and there would be no conflict with our homestudy.  The emails continued to come with strong opinions from other mothers... but also emails from families that understood how hard this was.  I would sit on the little bed we had ready for her, hold her things we took to give her that she couldn't keep because she could not play with them.  I would cry or just sit and stare and beg to hear God tell me what we were suppose to do, what was the next step, why was everything changing.

It was almost two weeks later and the medical report for "Mary Ellen" arrives via email.  It is suspected that with her last shunt failure she experience brain damage.  As a result of the brain damage, "Mary Ellen"  is blind and deaf.  I make phone calls again with the final information.  One particular woman feels I didn't do enough.  Doors were closing, I spent evenings looking at her pictures, watching her video.  I didn't know what to think or feel.  I was numb, there aren't even words really.  I wore that hurt.  I listened to the emails that said how horrible it was and questioned what kind of person I am.  I did not have peace.  There were a few families that had similar experiences that really encouraged me.  But the grief spoke loader. 

One day a friend prayed with me.  She prayed I would have peace by the end of the day.  It had been weeks, I didn't believe there was any way peace would come... atleast not in a day.  We were visiting her church that morning when she prayed.  The pastor shared that the same evening they would be having a prayer meeting and the discussion would be on adoption.  I met a woman that was in the midst of a very emotional part of her adoption.  We prayed together and it really encouraged me, there is only ONE who has the final say and He hadn't changed. 

That evening we went to the prayer meeting.  It was over, I was waiting for this peace to come that my friend prayed for me.  It felt like we would be leaving with the same amount of uncertainty.  The pastor came over and spoke with us.  He asked if we felt God called us to adopt... yes we believe He has.  He shared that he counsels.  He went on to say that he feels God has called him to be a counselor.  The pastor said that while he knows God called him to be a counselor, he does not feel that He is called to counsel every type of need.  That made sense to me.  My degree is in counseling and I remember or final semester we had to honestly access which needs we do not feel like we could counsel.  For instance a person that harmed a child or a person that had cheated on a spouse.  So I understood what he meant.  He said in the same way, God called us to adoption but that doesn't mean that we can care for every type of medical need.  He asked if we prayed about the needs we checked off before our homestudy...  we did.  It was hard to even mark off one need we didn't feel we could care for but through our time hosting children with different needs and advocating for their needs, we were very familiar with what we had been able to do and what was very difficult to do with all things considered.  The last thing he had said was if he had insisted on counseling someone whose needs he knew he could not meet, he would be making it about him and not the other person.  That decision would actually hurt the person that had the need.  In the same way, we knew "Mary Ellen's" new needs were greater than we had the resources to care for.  I don't know that we could have fought any harder but if we had would that have been best to get a different decision and not be able to meet her needs?  I know her greatest need is a family, there is no question.  But that doesn't take away the fact that she has very real medical needs that require what they require.  This was the first thing that made sense to me since we had traveled.  Nothing had made sense, the grief was consuming.  And some days the grief can still speak so loudly.  That night was the first night I could truly find rest again.

I can't change what some people have decided to think we should or should not have done.  I can't cause them to feel we did enough or tried our best.  What is important to me is what I have on my face.  The seven realities of that book have not changed just because the circumstances have changed.

#1 God is absolutely still at work in every detail around me!  Even when I was struggling to hear why... the truth remained, He was still working.  I can wear peace because of that!

#2 God is still pursuing a love relationship with me.  It is because of that great love for "Mary Ellen" and for our family that He is not done!  I can wear joy because He loves us even when other's feel so strongly His love abounds!

#3 God did invite us to join Him in His work.  We loved on so many children while we were there.  "Mary Ellen's" medical information will be corrected and a family able to meet her needs will be able to read that information and know it!  What happened did not take away the good that also was done.  We held that child, we spoke love to her.  I do not wear defeat!  We did the work He had for us to do.  And giving that love did not feel like work at all.

#4 God speaks!  He does!  That didn't change.  We knew He asked us to go.  We assumed that meant that all three would be our children.  We were willing to go, to obey.  It doesn't have to make sense to anyone else, they don't have to understand.  When He speaks to each of us, it is what He is communicating with us alone... it isn't for another to understand who didn't hear our personal conversations with Him.  That is okay!  I can wear assurance because we heard from Him.

#5 God's invitation leads to crisis of belief.  We stood so many times questioning how this could be all along the journey.  I can wear hope on my face because we accepted the invitation for what it was given and He works through the details.  We never held on to what was easy for what we would do.  We walked through some really difficult things but we didn't walk alone!

#6 Joining God requires major adjustment.  Yes!!  It just does.  Thankfully He has the tools to make those adjustments happen.  I can wear trust because of these adjustments and the circumstances He allowed to bring them about.  

#7 You experience God as you obey Him.  I love that so much, I am grateful for that.  Because of that I am willing to do what He asks because I don't want to miss the opportunity of experiencing God in such a personal and profound way.  Not just reading about Him, but experiencing Him.  For this reason I will always desire to wear obedience whatever it looks like, however messy it looks, and even when it looks like something else to anyone watching.

That is where I am with everything right now.  I look at the picture of my son at the beginning of this post and I see something beautiful in that little mess he wore.  And when I look in the mirror now, I have wiped off everything that everyone else told me they saw and I see beauty too.  Nothing that has happened made the details that God has in each part of  this less beautiful....  I'm going to wear this whatever it looks like because He is beautiful, He is wonderful, and He is glorious forever and in all things!!