By now most of you know that our journey to adopting a child has come to an end. The path we started over a year ago ended this past Tuesday when Neal Jackson was placed in our arms for the first time. It is amazing to me that I am finally writing on this computer and on the bed behind me is a precious, beautiful, and amazing baby boy. I am dumbfounded by how unbelievably lucky I feel, and nothing could have prepared Leslie or myself for the emotions we have experienced this past week. All I have been able to utter or express is the sentiment that God is good, and He knows what he is doing. The road has been hard and at times even almost unbearable, but today we stand on the other side and look back knowing every turn, swerve, and valley has been ordained by Him. Leslie and I always said that we knew God had a very specific baby out there for us. Today we know that baby was Neal, and today he is home.
I broke away from my son's stare for a few minutes yesterday to grab a quick haircut. Sitting in the chair I was making the usual smalltalk with the lady cutting my hair. The normal questions came in the regular order where do you work, how has your day been, can you believe how hot is is, etc. Then, she asked the question I had been asked so many times before in similiar situations. The question that use to bring a sag in my heart. She asked me if I had any kids, and for the first time I was able to say, "Yes, I have a son." What an amazing thing to verbalize. I had to hold back the tears, and I am not sure if I even heard her next few questions. Instead I soaked up the feeling of finally being able to answer that question the way I had wanted to answer it so many times before. Yes, I have a son.
An equally amazing experience has been watching Leslie be a mommy. I knew before we were married that she would be an awesome mom. However, seeing her with Neal is almost more than I can handle. From the way she changes his diaper to the way she feeds and rocks him, every encounter makes me love her even more. She has a mother's touch that surpasses any idea of motherhood I have ever had.
Leslie and I are soaking up every part of our new lives. I never thought the sound of crying could sound so beautiful or the smell of a dirty diaper could bring a smile to my face, but it does. We love the three a.m. feedings, and the kitchen sink full of dirty bottles needing to be cleaned. Leslie and I never want to forget what we have been through. The journey that led us to Neal was one I never thought we would travel, but a journey I wouldn't exchange for anything. Neal is the completion of our family, and as I sit and stare at him sleep I see the love of Christ in his smile. It is hard to even imagine being able to love something more than we love Neal, but I know God's love surpasses anything we humans could ever express. How lucky we all are to have been adopted into His family.
So this part of the journey has ended, but I know another has just begun. As we try to navigate parenthood, I am sure we will make a misstep or two along the way. However, I couldn't be happier or more blessed than to navigate it with Leslie by my side and Neal in our arms.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Spit and Mud
I had heard the story from John 9 thousands of times. The beggar, blind since birth, on the side of the road has an unexpected encounter with Jesus which ultimately leads to healing. When our pastor began speaking on this passage last week, I didn't expect to grasp anything new from this story. However, like so often happens with our pastor, a new layer of the story was revealed that I hadn't seen before.
For me, that layer was that often God uses unconventional (one may even say offensive) techniques to bring healing to his children. To really look at this story you see a beggar minding his own business, sitting on the side of the road, going on with the life that was dealt him when Jesus and his disciples approach him. The man was not shouting for a miracle or yelling at Jesus to heal him. He was just sitting there when they approached him. The approach was not the most polite one either. They immediately began questioning who in his family had sinned that caused this horrible thing to happen. They spoke about him almost as if he was not even there. You can almost hear the man shouting, "Hey! I'm blind, not deaf!" I imagine it was the ultimate "Your mama" dis. Then to make matters worse, Jesus grabs some dirt, spits in it, and rubs the spit-made mud on the guy's eyes. Why spit? Why dirt? Surely there was other water close by. I've read the other miracles of Jesus, and he didn't have to even put anything on his eyes. He could have just spoken the word, and the man's eyes would have been opened. But no, instead he does something that even today is considered an ultimate insult. He spits in his eyes.
I've got to be honest with you, there are many days that I feel like God is just being cruel and offensive. Sometimes it is after we receive that second phone call that tells us we did not get chosen (something that seems to be happening with more frequency lately). Other times it is the nightly news that shows someone obviously unfit for parenthood with multiple children raising them in unbelievable circumstances. A lot of times it is comments said by people who mean no harm, but it still hurts. Maybe selfishly, we have prayed as much for protection for ourselves as we have our child. We have asked to be shielded from comments and situations that seem to just add more pain, and I am confident that we have been shielded from many things. However, I am also sure that he has allowed many encounters which to us seem like He is just trying to offend us.
Why does He do it this way? I wish I knew, but like so many things with God I haven't got a clue. What I can take away from the story now is that we are not the first people to have felt this way. We are not the first people to feel like we have, at times, been spit on (or in the case above, actually get spit on).
Lately, we have really had to hang on to the knowledge that He has a plan. The dates and markers we had artificially made in our minds have past, and we still don't have a child. We are quickly approaching the one year mark from the official start of the process, and there are days when it feels we are still a long way from growing our family. Yet we rest in the fact that He already knows the exact minute of the exact day we will get the phone call, and as long as He knows, that is good enough.
I love what happens after Jesus spits in the man's eyes. He tells him to go clean it out at a specific pool across town. How easily it would have been for this man who had just received this uninvited insult and encounter to get angry with Jesus and ignore him. Maybe to make myself feel better, I like to imagine him mumbling under his breath or out loud to the person taking him about how unfair it is that his whole day has been turned upside down, and how unfair it was that this man humiliated him who seemingly had done nothing. We don't know what happened on the way to the pool, we just know he went. And when he got there he washed out the spit and mud, he could see.
Unconventional ways bringing healing.
I say bring on the spit. Bring on the mud. Bring on whatever it takes to show Your power and Your glory. I know it will be (and has been) uncomfortable at times. I know there will probably be more days where we feel like You are just trying to offend us, but we will take it. We know you have a plan for our family, and we trust that plan. Give us the strength to not walk away because we are hurt. Strengthen our trust and let fearful situations be opportunities to show faith. We anxiously anticipate the day we make it to the pool. The day when all the crud is washed away and we see the healing and Your glory displayed.
That's another thing about being blind. We are not sure how far away the pool is, but we know we are on the way.
For me, that layer was that often God uses unconventional (one may even say offensive) techniques to bring healing to his children. To really look at this story you see a beggar minding his own business, sitting on the side of the road, going on with the life that was dealt him when Jesus and his disciples approach him. The man was not shouting for a miracle or yelling at Jesus to heal him. He was just sitting there when they approached him. The approach was not the most polite one either. They immediately began questioning who in his family had sinned that caused this horrible thing to happen. They spoke about him almost as if he was not even there. You can almost hear the man shouting, "Hey! I'm blind, not deaf!" I imagine it was the ultimate "Your mama" dis. Then to make matters worse, Jesus grabs some dirt, spits in it, and rubs the spit-made mud on the guy's eyes. Why spit? Why dirt? Surely there was other water close by. I've read the other miracles of Jesus, and he didn't have to even put anything on his eyes. He could have just spoken the word, and the man's eyes would have been opened. But no, instead he does something that even today is considered an ultimate insult. He spits in his eyes.
I've got to be honest with you, there are many days that I feel like God is just being cruel and offensive. Sometimes it is after we receive that second phone call that tells us we did not get chosen (something that seems to be happening with more frequency lately). Other times it is the nightly news that shows someone obviously unfit for parenthood with multiple children raising them in unbelievable circumstances. A lot of times it is comments said by people who mean no harm, but it still hurts. Maybe selfishly, we have prayed as much for protection for ourselves as we have our child. We have asked to be shielded from comments and situations that seem to just add more pain, and I am confident that we have been shielded from many things. However, I am also sure that he has allowed many encounters which to us seem like He is just trying to offend us.
Why does He do it this way? I wish I knew, but like so many things with God I haven't got a clue. What I can take away from the story now is that we are not the first people to have felt this way. We are not the first people to feel like we have, at times, been spit on (or in the case above, actually get spit on).
Lately, we have really had to hang on to the knowledge that He has a plan. The dates and markers we had artificially made in our minds have past, and we still don't have a child. We are quickly approaching the one year mark from the official start of the process, and there are days when it feels we are still a long way from growing our family. Yet we rest in the fact that He already knows the exact minute of the exact day we will get the phone call, and as long as He knows, that is good enough.
I love what happens after Jesus spits in the man's eyes. He tells him to go clean it out at a specific pool across town. How easily it would have been for this man who had just received this uninvited insult and encounter to get angry with Jesus and ignore him. Maybe to make myself feel better, I like to imagine him mumbling under his breath or out loud to the person taking him about how unfair it is that his whole day has been turned upside down, and how unfair it was that this man humiliated him who seemingly had done nothing. We don't know what happened on the way to the pool, we just know he went. And when he got there he washed out the spit and mud, he could see.
Unconventional ways bringing healing.
I say bring on the spit. Bring on the mud. Bring on whatever it takes to show Your power and Your glory. I know it will be (and has been) uncomfortable at times. I know there will probably be more days where we feel like You are just trying to offend us, but we will take it. We know you have a plan for our family, and we trust that plan. Give us the strength to not walk away because we are hurt. Strengthen our trust and let fearful situations be opportunities to show faith. We anxiously anticipate the day we make it to the pool. The day when all the crud is washed away and we see the healing and Your glory displayed.
That's another thing about being blind. We are not sure how far away the pool is, but we know we are on the way.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The No's
No is not an easy word to hear. It’s not even very easy to say. I was a teacher for 2 years before I became comfortable telling a student “No” to any request. Contrary to popular belief, even middle school teachers enjoy being liked, and a “No” (even if justified) does not earn you many points with anyone in the room.
I guess this part of the process has become “the wait.” As we were filling out paperwork, working on our adoption portfolio, and daydreaming about our baby, I didn’t let much of the warnings about waiting truly resonate with me. Our family reassured us that we wouldn’t wait long, our portfolio book looked professionally made, and our credentials for becoming parents appear impeccable…yet, still, we wait.
We have been called about babies. That may surprise some of you that don’t know much about this process. Sometimes the agency will call you to see if you are comfortable with a particular situation. There are a million possible scenarios, so they reserve the right to contact you before showing your profile. It allows you time to see if that fits into your imagination of your family. Trey and I have gotten the calls, and we have prayed for guidance…even declining our portfolio from being shown once. I can’t tell you how hard it is to say no to a baby when you have waited for 24 months, 13 days, but we listened, and we heard NO….not this time.
During this wait, perhaps the hardest thing has been “the second call.” The first call saying they are going to show your profile brings all sorts of emotions and you really begin to wonder…hope… pray if this could be the one. We have received several first calls each time getting a little more excited. With our most recent first call we even allowed ourselves a trip to the local baby store to look at bedding and Lowe’s to pick out some paint colors. However, as with each other time the second call came. The second call is the one where our caseworker lets us know that the birthmother has decided to go with a different family. This has actually gotten more difficult to hear instead of easier. It is hard not to take it personally, and you find yourself wondering what the other family had that you didn’t. So the waiting continues, and with each passing day we have to remind ourselves that we are waiting for OUR child, the one God has picked out for our family.
I have been reminded of all sorts of people who have waited for something great in their lives. Mostly, I like the stories in the Bible because we have the end of the story, and, at this point, anyway, the end of the story helps me out a lot. David waited to become king (and Saul tried to kill him for most of that wait, so at least I am not in a cave waiting to be killed or crowned), Rachel waited for a baby while her sister kept having them (that must have been tough), Daniel waited to be thrown into the lion’s den and the three Hebrew boys waited for the fiery furnace (those must have been a pretty miserable night-before waits), and Jesus knew the suffering He would have to endure from his first breath. I guess waiting and anticipation are just part of this journey. I like those stories because it is proof that no matter how desperate or abandoned we feel, God hasn’t forgotten us. Did you know that it mentions God remembering someone over 50 times in the Bible? 50 times! My first reaction was, “Wow! He forgot those people?” But now I know, He didn’t forget them. When it came time to pass out a blessing, they were first on His list.
So, we wait. Not longer than I thought, but longer than I wanted. It is painful to wait. It is probably hardest to see the person you love more than anyone else in the world waiting, too. And even though each day that there is no call feels like a “No”, I believe that we are just one day closer to bringing our child home.
I guess this part of the process has become “the wait.” As we were filling out paperwork, working on our adoption portfolio, and daydreaming about our baby, I didn’t let much of the warnings about waiting truly resonate with me. Our family reassured us that we wouldn’t wait long, our portfolio book looked professionally made, and our credentials for becoming parents appear impeccable…yet, still, we wait.
We have been called about babies. That may surprise some of you that don’t know much about this process. Sometimes the agency will call you to see if you are comfortable with a particular situation. There are a million possible scenarios, so they reserve the right to contact you before showing your profile. It allows you time to see if that fits into your imagination of your family. Trey and I have gotten the calls, and we have prayed for guidance…even declining our portfolio from being shown once. I can’t tell you how hard it is to say no to a baby when you have waited for 24 months, 13 days, but we listened, and we heard NO….not this time.
During this wait, perhaps the hardest thing has been “the second call.” The first call saying they are going to show your profile brings all sorts of emotions and you really begin to wonder…hope… pray if this could be the one. We have received several first calls each time getting a little more excited. With our most recent first call we even allowed ourselves a trip to the local baby store to look at bedding and Lowe’s to pick out some paint colors. However, as with each other time the second call came. The second call is the one where our caseworker lets us know that the birthmother has decided to go with a different family. This has actually gotten more difficult to hear instead of easier. It is hard not to take it personally, and you find yourself wondering what the other family had that you didn’t. So the waiting continues, and with each passing day we have to remind ourselves that we are waiting for OUR child, the one God has picked out for our family.
I have been reminded of all sorts of people who have waited for something great in their lives. Mostly, I like the stories in the Bible because we have the end of the story, and, at this point, anyway, the end of the story helps me out a lot. David waited to become king (and Saul tried to kill him for most of that wait, so at least I am not in a cave waiting to be killed or crowned), Rachel waited for a baby while her sister kept having them (that must have been tough), Daniel waited to be thrown into the lion’s den and the three Hebrew boys waited for the fiery furnace (those must have been a pretty miserable night-before waits), and Jesus knew the suffering He would have to endure from his first breath. I guess waiting and anticipation are just part of this journey. I like those stories because it is proof that no matter how desperate or abandoned we feel, God hasn’t forgotten us. Did you know that it mentions God remembering someone over 50 times in the Bible? 50 times! My first reaction was, “Wow! He forgot those people?” But now I know, He didn’t forget them. When it came time to pass out a blessing, they were first on His list.
So, we wait. Not longer than I thought, but longer than I wanted. It is painful to wait. It is probably hardest to see the person you love more than anyone else in the world waiting, too. And even though each day that there is no call feels like a “No”, I believe that we are just one day closer to bringing our child home.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Phone Calls and Waiting
Much like this blog, our lives have been very quiet since we finally became an approved couple in November. To be completely honest the time has gone by pretty quickly. Leslie and I seemed to slip back into a regular routine of work and weekends, and we were no longer busy preparing documents or portfolios for our agency. The adoption was never far from our minds, and we often found ourselves discussing the when and ideal time tables. However, with nothing to do but wait you find that life goes on. It has been almost two months since we made it into "The Book," and as I said it has been quiet.
Our dormant process erupted last week however when we received the first call from our agency. Our case worker told us of a possible situation and asked us to pray and consider if we would like to have our portfolio shown. Normally, this call doesn't happen. In a typical scenerio, your profile is shown, and you are only notified if chosen. However, due to some special circumstances one being the fact that the baby was already born and several weeks old we received the call first. Leslie and I stood in the cycling room at the YMCA (the only available secluded spot) and talked with our case worker and then to each other. Suddenly, this dream we have had and this thing we had been working so hard for could be literally just days away from happening.
After we confirmed that we did want our profile shown the emotions that we had been feeling for so long came rushing back. With them came many new feelings as the reality of it all seemed so close. For me it much like the feelings when Leslie became pregnant before our first miscarriage. We had been trying and were excited, but when it actually happened fear of "are we ready for this?" snuck in. I'm assuming this is something felt by every prospective parent, adoptive or biological.
That night as we prayed our ritual prayer of safety for our baby and birthmother, it was no longer just a blanket statement. For the first time we had a possible real person in mind and a real baby already on this earth that could be ours.
Ultimately, we learned that we were not chosen for this placement. It is somewhat hard not to take it personnally, but we are trying very to keep a God perspective on it all. Leslie and I have said all along that we know there is a baby out there for us, and that is the baby we want. Wading through the ones that aren't for us can be emotional though.
It is all so much different than what I would have imagined. The process of receiving a call from the agency, hearing the listing of all the specifics of the situation, and then having to make a decision on whether or not you want to be included in the process. Naturally it opens itself up to fear. Fear of the what-ifs and are we sure. It's very hard for me to explain so I know it must be hard for others who have not walked this path to imagine.
The reality of getting so close was a real mixture of joy and fear. We now find ourselves dealing not just with the emotions of parenting a child, but with the additional emotions associated with adoption. The process of hearing the background information on the birthparents, the worries of how it will affect your soon to be child, and the fact that so much is out of your control. We can't make sure the birthmother takes her vitamins or doesn't miss any of her appointments. We can't moniter her food and beverage intake or make sure she is getting enough rest. So much is out of our hands. We knew all of this going in, and we had considered it all before. However when you are now dealing with real people it takes on a new life.
So we are left to simply trust. We have to remind ourselves that there is really nothing in our lives that we control, and when we as Christians surrender our lives to God we are giving him authority over all parts. Even the parts that seem like a biological right. I am trying daily to reconcile faith and fear. Faith in an almighty God who loves us and is not just concerned, but as our pastor said, overly concerned with our well-being, and the fear of the unknown.
Now we have received a second notification that our profile will be shown to another prospective birthparent. We are so excited that we are moving closer to the day we will have a family yet again faced with situations that we are powerless to control. So we wait, we pray, we plan what we can, and we daily sing to ourselves,
Jesus, Jesus, how I trust thee
How I've proved you o'er and o'er
Jesus, Jesus, Precious Jesus
O for grace to trust thee more.
Our dormant process erupted last week however when we received the first call from our agency. Our case worker told us of a possible situation and asked us to pray and consider if we would like to have our portfolio shown. Normally, this call doesn't happen. In a typical scenerio, your profile is shown, and you are only notified if chosen. However, due to some special circumstances one being the fact that the baby was already born and several weeks old we received the call first. Leslie and I stood in the cycling room at the YMCA (the only available secluded spot) and talked with our case worker and then to each other. Suddenly, this dream we have had and this thing we had been working so hard for could be literally just days away from happening.
After we confirmed that we did want our profile shown the emotions that we had been feeling for so long came rushing back. With them came many new feelings as the reality of it all seemed so close. For me it much like the feelings when Leslie became pregnant before our first miscarriage. We had been trying and were excited, but when it actually happened fear of "are we ready for this?" snuck in. I'm assuming this is something felt by every prospective parent, adoptive or biological.
That night as we prayed our ritual prayer of safety for our baby and birthmother, it was no longer just a blanket statement. For the first time we had a possible real person in mind and a real baby already on this earth that could be ours.
Ultimately, we learned that we were not chosen for this placement. It is somewhat hard not to take it personnally, but we are trying very to keep a God perspective on it all. Leslie and I have said all along that we know there is a baby out there for us, and that is the baby we want. Wading through the ones that aren't for us can be emotional though.
It is all so much different than what I would have imagined. The process of receiving a call from the agency, hearing the listing of all the specifics of the situation, and then having to make a decision on whether or not you want to be included in the process. Naturally it opens itself up to fear. Fear of the what-ifs and are we sure. It's very hard for me to explain so I know it must be hard for others who have not walked this path to imagine.
The reality of getting so close was a real mixture of joy and fear. We now find ourselves dealing not just with the emotions of parenting a child, but with the additional emotions associated with adoption. The process of hearing the background information on the birthparents, the worries of how it will affect your soon to be child, and the fact that so much is out of your control. We can't make sure the birthmother takes her vitamins or doesn't miss any of her appointments. We can't moniter her food and beverage intake or make sure she is getting enough rest. So much is out of our hands. We knew all of this going in, and we had considered it all before. However when you are now dealing with real people it takes on a new life.
So we are left to simply trust. We have to remind ourselves that there is really nothing in our lives that we control, and when we as Christians surrender our lives to God we are giving him authority over all parts. Even the parts that seem like a biological right. I am trying daily to reconcile faith and fear. Faith in an almighty God who loves us and is not just concerned, but as our pastor said, overly concerned with our well-being, and the fear of the unknown.
Now we have received a second notification that our profile will be shown to another prospective birthparent. We are so excited that we are moving closer to the day we will have a family yet again faced with situations that we are powerless to control. So we wait, we pray, we plan what we can, and we daily sing to ourselves,
Jesus, Jesus, how I trust thee
How I've proved you o'er and o'er
Jesus, Jesus, Precious Jesus
O for grace to trust thee more.
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