Tuesday Timecard

Okay, Tuesday Timecards are for relaying information to you about what is happening on the ground (and by "on the ground," I mean in the car with my two small children being crazy and me being like we're going to the post office anyway just don't fall apart for 15 more minutes please).
It may also be for either accountability or encouragement, depending on if I'm putting things off or if there's so much to do that it seems like I'm not making progress (*coughcough* see below).

So, this past week, we:
-finished our adoption training courses (10 hours!) through Adoption Learning Partners (separate post on that)
-I finished the chapters of The Connected Child that are required for our homestudy (separate post singing glorious praises for Drs Purvis & Cross later)
-sent $4,000 to our adoption agency and had our adoption grant send another $4,000 because money is no longer a tangible thing to me
-made a list of everything we need for our homestudy and dossier
-ordered Stephen's new passport
-gave the medical forms to our doc to fill out & return to us
-called 4 different local government offices to try and get our 5k permit approved (it's not yet)
-absolutely badgered our agency for photos of the girls (and got them, athankyouverymuch)
-ordered birth certificates for Judah
-wrote out every grant we can apply for
-wrote out every fundraiser we've talked about
-taken deep, calming breaths and forced myself to relax

On a not-totally-adoption-centered-but-still-related note, we kicked our old couch to the curb and bought a gloriously inexpensive, perfectly small, slightly uncomfortable, used pleather couch / "futon" (no one will ever sleep on this futon give me a break manufacturers) that makes for much more space in our living area. We'll be getting rid of the other one and replacing it with either an ottoman or a bench bc no we don't care about comfort for guests, we care about floor space for the thousand four small children we'll have playing together soon.

Soon.

Homestudy & Dossier Updates

Because we've been trying to adopt for so long, a lot of our documents have lapsed. We have to get new medicals done for all of us and redo our Hague adoption training. We've also moved, so we will have a home visit to our new apartment.

I'm also trying to compile our dossier so we can have it ready as soon after our homestudy update as possible. Dossiers to countries like Uganda are kind of annoying because, besides needing FOUR notarized copies of every document (alllllll the eyerolls over here), every agency has slightly different document needs.

So, I'm off to cull through the money I've spent documents I have to see what I can keep and what I'll need to buy again.

So, What Now?

Let's get us all on the same page. Here's the plan:

-Update our homestudy
-Update and complete our dossier
-Get court date
-Travel (1st trip), visit girls, have court date, visit girls, visit girls!
-Get court approval
-Travel, bring the girls from the orphanage where we're staying, get their US visas
-Bring them home!!!!
-readopt in US

Okaaaaaay GO!

Stars and Water

Those are the names I will call our daughters until I can show you their names and faces. Stars and Water. They live in Uganda, that country I just can't shake, no matter what. I can't tell you much about them but that they are related and between our sons' ages (so yes, we'll have 4 kids 3.5 years apart. It's gonna be a lot of fun and quite a bit of work).

I'd love to say I'm cautiously optimistic, but I'm not. I'm vacillating between wildly excited and terrified. So much needs to happen in so little time and SO MANY THINGS can go wrong. When I told my mom we had accepted their referral, she said, "Finally! Aren't you relieved?" and I said NO! I'll be relieved when we touch down in Houston with them in our arms.

Until then, until then feels like the gantlet. I hope I won't, but I may struggle with anxiety until then. I catch myself begging God, as if He likes to withhold good things from me, or keep children out of families.

If you'd like to pray for us, I'd love some prayer for more faith, more hope. If everything goes well, we could bring them home by Christmas. But 50 different things could go wrong, delaying or destroying our adoption plans. Please pray everything about our adoption would go according to his plans -- that nothing from the enemy can stand in the way. That we'll raise the funds. That paperwork will work for us and not against us. That the judges and officials will be favorable to us. That we will celebrate Christmas as a family of six.

Sad News

I've actually known this "news" for at least six weeks, and most of you may already know this, but we are not actually eligible to adopt from China. We will not meet their net worth requirements. This was missed during our paperwork because we were deciding on whether to sell the house at the same time that we were deciding to adopt.

China requires a net worth of $80,000. We don't come close.

It was a hard blow to my heart. I had a lot of hope that, through adopting from China, we would be able to cross our t's and dot our i's and end up with a daughter on the other side of time & paperwork. I hoped to bring home that sweet little Treasure. I have cried and prayed and finally felt peace that, like the precious girl we weren't supposed to adopt last fall, we aren't able to because God has a different family marked out for her. I am honored to share a teeny piece of God's heart by loving these kiddos and praying for what's best for them, not just what I want.

We are proceeding in a different direction that I hope to be able to tell you all about soon. This is our last "go" of adopting, so I'm praying and preaching hope to myself that the past three and a half years of struggle has been leading up to this situation. To our beautiful, precious little daughters. #spoileralert

Romans 5 and Suffering

I was thinking the other day about how Judah is now older than Ezra was when the need for families to adopt orphans burst onto my horizon & into my heart. It's been three and a half years since I first longed to add to our family a child who didn't have one. In a month, it will be three & a half years since I got Stephen on board with the logic of the two-birds-one-stone approach: we want more kids; kids deserve families; instead of making another child to increase our family, we can adopt one. [I have my brilliant moments.]

That isn't a long time in light of eternity, but it has been a long time in my heart. We have lost a referral due to the sins of her country's governors (I'll love you forever, little H). We have declined a referral in obedience to God (I pray for you often, precious girl, and for your family). There have been months where I have felt my heart was put in a meat grinder - pulpy, hemorrhaging. There have been months I have been so angry at God I could barely speak to him, and yet there was the hard (at the time) truth that He alone has the words of life. There have been times I thought I was seeing the light at the end of this long, dark tunnel, only to have it be a match, blown out in my face.

I reiterate those thing because I can understand why it would seem super emo/dramatic to talk about my suffering. Ugh, I even want to put it in quotes, but I'm not going to. I have suffered through this process. There has been an abundance of pain, loss, confusion, and the peculiar pain of waiting, just waiting and waiting with no assurance of its stopping.

It is hard to fathom that there is every reason to believe we will be done with this adoption in a year.

That our daughter will be home with us. That we will be knitting ourselves together as a family.

So it was sweet when I read Romans 5 again, with its well-known "suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." I know I've suffered because I do have more perseverance, character, and hope. And I know I won't be disappointed. When I see Jesus face to face, I will thank him for this process, because it has made me more like him, and that is what I want more than anything. More even than bringing our daughter home, I want to BE Jesus, be just like him.

Important Adoption Update

Again, again, sorry for the quiet. I've been waiting for like six weeks for news to share. It's not the news I personally want, but I have accepted it as God's best for me and am hopeful.

In January, I clicked on the picture of a waiting child, a little Treasure, and felt hope for our adoption spring to life within me. I approached Stephen and we took some time before deciding to ask for more information. When we got it, we took some time to pray over whether we should adopt her or not. Then we submitted a document detailing how we would care for her special need (she is blind in both eyes). I went to doctors; I spoke with our regional and state visual impairment specialists. I spent quite a few hours thinking over and planning first steps for us to accommodate this treasure. So we hear back last week that we have no way of knowing if we can adopt her until Stephen turns 30 at the end of July.

You see, she's in China, this precious little spark, and China requires both parents to be 30 years old before they will allow a child to be referred to the couple. And our agency only has her file until April 30th, after which her file will go back into the shared files of China's Special Focus program.

We had 3 options, essentially: wait until Stephen turns 30 and see if she's still available, then begin our adoption again; decide that the timing was wrong and suspend our adoption again; or begin our adoption again in the hopes that she still will be available in July.

I can tell that the trial of our adoption is bearing fruit in that Stephen and I both agreed to continue this process of adopting from China, knowing that we may have a very disappointing July-August. I trust that, if she's supposed to be our daughter, God will allow us to adopt her. And if she isn't, that means she will have been adopted already, which is a big praise, because kiddos with visual impairment don't often get adopted.

And if she isn't supposed to be our daughter, God will bring our daughter to us, and I will look back and bless this long, painful process for the joy added to our family. Still, I'm holding onto hope that we'll bring this little treasure home around Christmas.

Adoption Update? Embryo Adoption Awareness

About a week ago I posted a Facebook update asking for prayer about making a decision concerning our adoption. We were seriously considering adopting embryos.

Was there a record scratch or a say whaaa in your brain just now? Embryo adoption is totally a thing. There are many, many families who have frozen embryos left over from cycles of IVF that they are unwilling/unable to add to their families. These embryos can be donated to science (where they will die), disposed of (where they will die), or donated/adopted by another family (where they have a chance to be born).

The idea of giving birth to your adopted child is beautiful, and giving life to these lil snowflakes is sweet and precious. And I really wanted another baby. So we were seriously considering it.

Notice I'm using the past tense. I realized over the weekend that, while I think adopting embryos is wonderful and important, I just don't have a conviction that it's what we should do for this adoption. I think I was considering it so seriously was a result of not having much hope that we could adopt internationally. Also known as not a great reason to bring a child into our family.

We are seriously considering adopting a little girl with a special need from China (why China? Well this is pretty much the earliest we could adopt from China, since Stephen turns 30 in July). Please be praying with us that God would give us clarity in our decision.

Want to know more about embryo adoption? Click here! This was not in any way sponsored or something. I just think it's a great thing.

When God doesn't bless your godly decisions

Happy New Year!

Our Christmas break has felt quite full, but a pretty good kind of full - family, preparations to eventually sell our house, and lots of processing for both Stephen and me.

I have been mulling over the title up there for the past week, after a prayer prayed by a family member for another family member. My sister-in-law and brother-in-law-in-law are in the process of becoming licensed foster-to-adopt parents, and received an unexpected bonus that will cover the rest of the costs for their preparations. The family member thanked God for blessing them because their desires are godly.

And it's true, and I'm so glad for them. There's no denying that their hearts are turned toward the fatherless, and they are preparing to love and parent a child (or children) who has undergone trauma and who needs a safe place. It is godly, and God, I'm certain, is pleased with them.

But the lump in my throat wonders about us. Are my desires to adopt not from a godly place? Am I just not ready in some way? in many ways? Do I lack a quality that will make me a good adoptive parent? Is God frustrating our adoption plans because He knows we wouldn't be a safe place for a hurt child?

Before you (well some of you) rush to the comments to leave sweet remarks, it is definitely possible that I am not ready. That it is me that's the hold up in this situation. And I'm trying to be okay with whatever the reason is, even though it really hurts a part of me to see others get to do what I really want to do but have not been allowed to yet. I feel left out, yes, but also a little less than. Maybe a little exposed? Afraid others see me as a phony, and afraid maybe I am a phony and don't realize it. Id God not honoring my desires because they aren't godly? How would I know?

Those are the things I'm pondering, bringing to the Lord, and hoping for answers at some unforeseen point in the road.

Now that it's 2015, and I feel fairly assured in my spirit that I won't get to adopt this year either, I'm trusting God that it can still be a really good year. I have at least enough faith to believe I will look back one year from now and see his goodness pursuing me the whole time.

Big Adoption Update (part 2)

I've listened to (and sung, sobbing) this song a LOT in the past year. I never thought, three years ago, that our adoption road would be like this, and it has shaken me to the core several times. I have never wrestled with God's goodness so deeply as I have in the past two years, and particularly in the past year. 

Sometimes God is good to other people through you, and you suffer for it. It sounds dramatic, but loving the orphan is painful. Orphans are near to God's heart, and I think are a particularly tender spot for him (judging my his words). But I digress. I want to speak of God's faithfulness to me.

I sang that song up there out of a desire to be satisfied in God - to make myself satisfied. When we found out we were pregnant with Judah, I did NOT understand why God would allow make us become pregnant when we were still adopting. We also found out while I was still actively grieving the DRC shutting down. Just a couple weeks after we found out, I got the news that the agency we were using to adopt Helene was pulling out of the DRC completely, and that we would have no way to adopt her, donate to her orphanage, or even check up on her welfare. Which was devastating.

I was at war within myself, because I knew this little person was wonderful and precious and I did NOT want to lose him, but it felt like he was sabotaging our adoption, like he was forcing us to choose one child (him) over another (baby A). So I was resentful and ashamed at my resentment. And just really perplexed at how this could be God's good plan for our lives.

That brings us all the way until we got Sweet P's referral. When I felt the Spirit's whispers turn into solid confirmation that we shouldn't adopt her (regardless of our own feelings), I started to hold Judah and cuddle him as I cried out my grief. [Don't mistake me, he's been held and cuddled plenty before that. He's a little sweetie.]

In one of those rare, rare quiet times where both kids are asleep (and not sleeping on me) on Saturday night, I was delving into the whole "oil running down Aaron's beard" business of Psalm 133 (bc what), which led me to Psalm 23 as the most familiar place to me in the Bible that also talks about anointing with oil (bc again, what).

Y'all Psalm 23 is like Lucy's cordial (you heard me, Narnians); it refreshes perfectly. Really, every part had a blessing in it, but what I'm specifically referring to at present is this:

You prepare a feast for me
in the presence of my enemies.
You honor me by anointing my head with oil.
My cup overflows with blessings.

Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me
all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the LORD
forever.

And it washed over me: God gave Judah to me because he loves me and he knew I would be miserable without Judah and without Sweet P. I'm sure the world needed Judah to be born and all, but the timing was just for me. Ezra can be remarkably kind, and he is loving, but he almost never lets me cuddle him or hold him at all. God knew I needed Judah. His goodness and unfailing love pursued the me of right now when he made my ovaries be crazy in November 2013.  I didn't need to will myself to be satisfied with God. His love isn't feeble or inert; he knows what salve my  heart needs, and he orchestrates life to provide it.

Again I say, surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life. 

Stay tuned tomorrow for what the future holds. I suspect something with part 3 in the title.

BIG ADOPTION UPDATE (part 1)

If you follow my blog (you must be a curious sort of person, first off), you might remember this post and this post about a little girl we were waiting to get the referral of. [I do not have the energy to fix that preposition. If you're offended, stew in it, not my problem.]

Just a few days after my hopeless post (it was Friday October 14th), we got her referral: several documents with info on her history, medical information, some personality traits, and two photos. I decided to call her Sweet P, because she is clearly sweet and precious. Stephen and I were unable to talk about it much because he was teaching that Sunday and was very busy preparing.

I spent the whole weekend and the first few days of the next week pretty sure we were going to adopt her. I wasn't elated like a lot of people talk about being when they get "the call," mostly because the decision to parent a person is a really big responsibility, and my legs always feel a little shaky under the weight of being someone's mom. But I was... glowy about it. I suppose I fell in love? I learned to want to know her and to have her smile at me. To cuddle her and be silly. To feed her and pray over her at night. I thought about how on earth we would handle doing the school thing for the first time, and how she would handle the boys, and how srsly how would Ezra handle her (smothering her with attention was my bet).

But as the week went on, as I thought about all of these things, I became more and more uneasy about her life with us. If God sets the lonely in families, would bringing her into our family change that? She has friends where she is, and caregivers to whom she's attached. A family is more than that, better, but not just any family.

Her file said she's shy and doesn't make friends easily. We don't have kids her age; our church doesn't have girls her age either. So school (and sports; she likes soccer) would be her only hope of making friends. But we're leaving for San Antonio in just a couple of years; she would have to start all over, and in MIDDLE SCHOOL.

No one deserves that.

So I cried. A lot. Because it's hard to acknowledge that a child you love is better off with other parents. And my selfish heart wants to claim her and keep her. But God gives us the Spirit so we can be moved to treat others with the unselfish love he has for us.

So I emailed our agency worker (because I couldn't bring myself to call her and sob to someone who hardly knows me) and told her we were choosing not to adopt her.

And I grieved.

[. . .to be continued tomorrow.]

Bob Dylan's 49th Beard

Ever want to break up with yourself? With your "lot in life"? With how emo you are? GET IT TOGETHER, MICHELLE, says the mean me on my shoulder. Above is the title of the best breakup song probably ever. I wish I could grow a beard, bc things are weird between me & myself right now.

Tbh, I could really use some prayer for a faith so real it can keep me functioning when I just want to lay on the floor all day. I'll update you on some big events that have recently transpired when I'm able to think about it without crying, bc srsly so sad over here right now.

Heart-sick

Do you remember a time when you couldn't pinpoint a feeling you were having until someone else named it? As a mom, I can assure you it happened a lot, at least when you were young (teaching Ezra feeling words is quite the challenge, as everything comes out angry, and we have to dig to find the real feelings).

I couldn't name how I was feeling about our adoption until I saw the word on a friend's blog, totally unrelated to my situation, but so poignant: despair. I don't want to talk about, even think about our adoption, because I am despairing of it ever actually happening.

I have lost hope.

Whew, that is a bitter sentence to speak, and the tears I cry just reading it are bitter. But even that is better than no tears, for me at least. My heart is so sick within me that I haven't been able to cry the tears that would flow from a tender place.

In an honest moment like this one, I can admit I don't believe we will adopt. It feels impossible. It would take too many good things happening in an area of my life where I have experienced nothing but disappointment and loss. Courts have become hostile, referrals have ceased, and we lost the opportunity to adopt a precious little girl because of her government, after we'd already begun to try and bring her home. We were told we'd receive a referral of an orphan (waiting for her family) in July that has still not been received. It has been three years since we decided to adopt.

The only hope I have is in the Lord, and he's been so quiet, so quiet, for so long in this area. Still, he has not said to stop, and I know he'd have enough mercy on us to tell me when to actually give up. Sometimes I guess you have to trust that he is who he says he is, even when he's not overtly showing you. I do believe (a tiny bit) that I will see his goodness in this plan someday. I just don't know how.

Judah

I laughed as Judah was born; I didn't remember until my midwife's apprentice reminded us. That is NOT to say my labor was peaceful or joyful or even positive. It was intense to the point of overwhelming for several hours (for those who understand these things, I went from being 3 cm dilated to Judah being born in just over 4 hours). I told Stephen during my labor (I believe shortly after vomiting) that if we were ever to get pregnant again, we're going to the hospital and they're stabbing a needle in my back (I've since begun to reconsider, but I make no promises either way).

 Judah was born "en caul": with the amniotic sac ("bag of waters") unbroken. That wasn't because we made a decision not to break my water; there just wasn't time - the contraction I had just after my midwife checked my dilation was the same contraction during which his head was born. Luckily, I was able to wait for another contraction for the rest of him to be born.

And that's why I laughed - the joy of a thing completed, particularly something inconvenient (he was born at 3:41am in the worst time of year for people who minister to college students), painful, and long-awaited.

It's weird to have a new baby again, when we've been so long expecting our next child to be adopted as a... not-baby (could be toddler or older, but not a baby). It's also a strange feeling to be elated that he's here, and yet still feel the lack of our little A. Judah has two older siblings, but one is missing from all the photos. It's hard to wrap my heart around sometimes.

Still, it's a comfort, really; it reminds me in my heart that God hasn't closed the door to adoption for us. We don't know if we'll have more biological children, but our family is certainly not complete. As we adjust to being a family of four (as in, wait, when do I take a shower now?), I confess I already think of us as a family of five - and expectant family, still. We are still in gestation, and there is no estimated due date yet. As one wait is over, my earnest hope is that I'll continue to wait well on this much longer-deferred hope: to cast my cares at God's feet; to be thankful for His many ways of protecting, loving, and caring for us; and to receive God's peace (instead of being petulant. Yes, petulant).

Judah Titus; 8/15/14; 7lbs, 14oz; 20.5"; ours.

Adoption Update

Well, it's April. It seems the decision about this little person has been made for us by the fact that the orphanage still haven't made the referral, added to the fact that the courts have been making the court dates farther out (sometimes over 2 months from receiving our dossier). Combine both of those with my (albeit slight) pregnancy complication, and it means we would be utterly unreasonable to continue to consider accepting the referral once it (finally) comes. Stephen would probably have to stay in Uganda while I had baby Q (no, his name won't start with Q. Q is short for "Quoi?!?"]

Am I sad? Yes. Poor Stephen found me crying in the shower about it yesterday. [I wish I could give him warning about when I'm going to cry. I think it would help him to feel less alarmed.] This adoption has been so hard for a long time. But I do feel the peace of knowing that I will look back and know that God's hand was on us in this time, by not even giving us the opportunity to have to make a decision about the referral. To have the option and still have to say "no" would have been much harder.

If you would take a moment and pray for this child, that God would swiftly lead Generations to his/her adoptive parents, I'd be grateful.

BIG Not-Yet-News

I'm not sure how to write this because I don't really know what to write. We received a call on Friday that may prove very significant to our family. Let me go back to November. Scroll to the end if you want the TL:DR version.

You may remember we started out on the wait list with Generations (Uganda) at number 18 in October 2012. By the end of that December, we were down to #13. The spring of 2013 was very difficult, and we ended the semester at #12. Since we didn't decide to adopt so we could sit for months - or years - on a waiting list, we started pursuing other options.

When we got pregnant in November, we told both agencies we were working with (Uganda and the DRC). It changed nothing about the DRC, since there's no progress in adoptions from there right now anyway. With Uganda, we were told that we'd be put on hold on the list until our new little boy is 6 months old. We wouldn't lose our spot, but we can't accept a referral.

In the meantime, Generations started partnering with an orphanage who cares specifically for children with a medical special need. This special need often carries a stigma beyond its severity. Many adoptive parents-to-be aren't willing to consider adopting children with it, but we are.

So we got a call on Friday from our Uganda program director asking if we'd consider accepting a referral before this little one is born. In fact, we could receive a referral in the next week or two and travel before this kiddo is born!

Naturally, there are a LOT of things to consider and weigh about this decision:

* Family: What is best for our kids (including our to-be-adopted kid)? Will it be more stressful on our family to add a child to our family, and have a baby a month later; or to have a baby and a preschooler and then bring home an adopted child? Where and when will we need (and be able to receive) more help?

* Finances: We still need $6,000-$7,000 more to complete our adoption (including travel and finalization back here in the States). I still have 2 more grants I can apply for, but we haven't received a single grant so far, so I have no confidence that we won't have to scrounge/raise the entire sum. Stephen needs time to raise at least $700 in monthly recurring support, or we may not get full paychecks in the fall, which is a big deal to a family of 5 with a new baby and a child with medical needs.

*** Calling: This one gets three stars because it's the most important. Is God calling us to adopt the child that will be referred to us? We don't know yet. I have absolute confidence that God will enable us to adopt him/her if that is his will. Neither of us has received clarity either way, so we would really appreciate your prayers at this time.

TL:DR Version: we could be accepting the referral of a child in the next week or two and traveling to Uganda this summer (yes, with me weeks away from giving birth). Please pray for us to know God's will.

Adoption Update

Many (most, probably!) of you were at our Fellowship Church Women's Retreat last month, and heard me talk about our adoption. Some of you have said you would pray for little H, and for that I am profoundly grateful.

I've received word from the agency we received H's referral from, and they are no longer working in the DRC. They have not officially closed the program, but they no longer employ anyone in the country and are actively recruiting those who have accepted Congolese referrals to programs in other countries.

The TL:DR is outlook is not good. As in it would take miracle upon miracle upon miracle for us to be able to adopt H. And I just don't think that is going to happen.

For those of you who aren't well-versed in how international adoption works, there is no way we can adopt H without this agency's help (unless somehow another agency were to partner with her orphanage, and we happened to find out without anyone telling us, because how would a separate agency know we had been trying to adopt her? Our names are nowhere in the DRC). If the DRC still allowed independent adoptions (so lawyer-based, not agency-based), we probably could. But they do not.

Truth is, the Lord has been preparing my heart for this for a long time. I am not okay with this situation AT ALL, but I have peace that comes from knowing that God loves H immensely and is capable of caring for her when I cannot.

Only time will tell what God has planned for our adoption, but I still have hope. It has been refined nearly to extinguishing, but the Lord is gentle, and it is on the mend.

If you think about it, pray for H. She needs prayer support. I hope to one day meet her face-to-face and hear the fruit of our prayers. Let that day come, Father. Amen.

In related news, we filed our I-600A extension and request for another fingerprinting appointment. Fingerprints expire every 15 months? HOW does that make sense? The 16-weeks-gestated baby in my womb has fingerprints! DUMB. Dumb.

Adoption Update-ish

I won't write anything morose on here, though those feelings do come and go right now.  But I did want to update for two reasons:

1) Our city approval came for our Trot for a Tot 5k - if you know a runner, a group of runners, a member of a fraternity or sorority, a member of a FLO, or any other member of a group of people with whom announcements are made in College Station, I'd love to make the connection to spread the word about our run. Also, if you know any business that would like to advertise or to donate in a tax-deductible way, there are plenty of opportunities to do so!

2) Please be in prayer as we consider what God would want for our family with regards to our adoption. There are so many things always happening (especially at the beginning of the semester and at the beginning stages of planning a church plant); it can be easy to push to the back things that aren't in front of our faces and clamoring for attention. We don't want to miss God's whisper to change direction, nor to remain steadfast.

2013 was not my favorite year of my life, but I know it was a year that produced much fruit in my life, and much of that has to do with the difficulties of our adoption. Two months ago, I was certain 2014 would be the year we brought home our child, but now I cannot be. What I am certain of, however, is God's ability to use our circumstances to make me more like Jesus, and in that hope I can trust and be secure.

DRC Update

This is not a big update, but I wanted to write it anyway. The State Department has issued another alert suggesting that even the grandfathered-in cases will proceed slowly because people have been forging documents. The emotionally violent part of me wants to go BEAT some sense into these people! I know you're desperate to bring your child home and I don't blame you for your feelings, but give a single moment's thought to the hundreds or thousands of families you're affecting by further damaging the United States' relationship with the Congo.

Flag of the Democratic Republic of the Congo

It is possible that, because of you, we won't be able to bring H home. It's horribly selfish, which is a terrible way to start your parenting of a hurt child. It also makes you look just like a trafficker. Just fyi. </disdain> </rant>

Termites.

Okay, I'm not talking to them any longer. Frankly, their selfishness will incur wrath more frightening than my own, for who loves orphans more than the Most Holy God? Who placed in mothers the fierceness of protection? Children are literally dying every day in the Congo for want of aid and protection, and these people are making it worse. It will be a dreadful thing on that day.

Honestly, I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to do whatever it took to get H here. But then I think about having to tell her, eventually, that she was smuggled here. That she was, essentially, trafficked. It's no good. Besides, H isn't the only child in the DRC who needs a family. How could I live with myself if my actions caused a country to close down its international adoption program? I sure hope anyone realizes this, and I desperately hope they feel the same way.

Katanga region. Rainy season. Beautiful.

In the same alert, the DRC also warned that the suspension of issuing exit visas may last past the original term of one year, so things aren't looking any better for us. But hope does not disappoint, and I believe steadfastly that the Lord will use our adoption to advance the Gospel, just like He used Paul's imprisonment, from where he wrote the epistle of Philippians.

On Fear

A few weeks ago, I started having stress dreams again. It takes me a while to recognize that that's what they are, but at some point the light bulb goes on and I realize, "oh, I'm afraid."

This round, the dreams were about losing Ezra (sometimes physically, sometimes to CPS, always with the threat looming but never fully realized. When the light bulb goes on, that's when I realize how hard our adoption process has been. My subconscious is scared, like a rabbit in the deep dark woods or something. In some ways, this adoption has felt like several miscarriages; there have been several paths we were sure would lead to our child being home with us, only to have the door close and the path cut off.

I have dealt with those losses individually, but I guess not with the point of view of the future. But I cannot deny that a small part of me is terrified (sobbing, crazy-eyed frantic) about us losing H. That she will be an example to our community and the world of a child who isn't "chosen" (even though she is), who doesn't have the dream come true, who is left on her own. What if our story is one of "we wanted her and weren't allowed"? What if that's the testimony, that things need to change, that children are often run over by governments and powers-that-be?

I can't. I don't know if I can handle it. So God invites me to walk in the garden with him, and my breaking heart is comforted on his shoulder. We probably won't know for months. I need his strength and his hope, because I have none of my own.