Tears of Joy

Though I can be an emotional person, I'm not generally a big JOY crier. Stub a toe extra hard and a few tears might escape. Labor pains definitely brought some tears. My broken heart, or brokenness over someone's painful situation and I can become a blubbering snotty mess.

Tears of Joy? Those have only come four times in my life.

When my Daddy pulled me aside on my wedding day to read a letter he had written to me. We both cried through the whole thing. My girls had to rescue my wedding day make up.

After being pronounced Man and Wife and practically leaping down the aisle to steal a moment alone after our wedding, I watched tears of joy pour down my Husband's face and so of course the tears came for me.

That beautiful moment, after hours of pain, when my baby girl was placed in my arms, and I realized that I was a Mother and that she was the most amazing and beautiful thing God had ever blessed me with.

Pretty brief list. It's a list that makes sense, but its still not common for me. I love my other two children as much as my first but something about their arrivals into my life didn't bring tears of joy. Nothing else I can think of has conjured such extreme emotion in me.

So I was a little surprised and a smidge embarrassed Sunday night when giant wet droplets poured down my face.

You see, the next journey in our lives is about to change everything. We've left the church we love, who shaped and molded our faith in amazing ways over the last ten years in order to prepare for a church plant. It will be far enough away that we are preparing to sell our house. All three of my children have only known this home and this town. A job change is likely in our future too. The biggest thing for me will be leaving the school system I know and trust and heading into the unknown with a disabled child. Old friends will be less available and new friends will have to be made.
And we've grown very comfortable with our lives here. This is hard.

My favorite comfort place in my home:
Old rickety rocking chair and endless books at my fingertips. 

So many of my prayers are being answered in this one difficult act of obedience. I am watching my Husband's faith cement itself in our home as he leads our children, and invests in others. I am having conversations with my children that deepen my faith as we adventure into the unknown. I am seeing just how big the body of Christ really is outside of my little comfortable bubble. It reminds me of how I felt when I worshiped with a church in Kampala Uganda half way across the world. I was very much the minority, yet I was with Brothers and Sisters who served and trusted the same God I do. It was a beautiful moment.

But it is SOOO scary venturing into the unknown to serve God. To not know if we will succeed, if uprooting our family and giving up what is comfortable and known will mean anything in eternity. It must matter, or why would He ask it of us? But we can't see the things He sees, and I fear my faith is still so weak. I am scared. What if all of this ends up being for nothing?

So sitting on someone else's couch, nursing my coffee and waiting for God to move in our meeting, the tears flowed easily as I listened to a young couple show me what God is doing. I listened to them make real to me why we are leaving the known for the unknown; comfortable for the uncomfortable.

I listened to his voice break as he told us when the unthinkable happened and their child was taken from them. When their broken-ness reached the bottom and God stepped in and got their attention. I watched him struggle with the words as he described his and his wife's pain in these times. And I watched him in awe, thank God for the pain. I watched him tell us of redemption, and forgiveness, and Christ in their lives like never before. I watched them, become the bible in front of me. Like the woman at the well. Like the unlikely choices for Jesus's disciples. Like the gospel is meant to be.

REDEMPTION

Broken Sinners, who met Jesus, and went running to tell others what they had found.

This is why we are going. Because we are broken sinners who met Jesus and want to run and tell others what WE have found. And I want to see this story play out over and over in our lives. I want to see Redemption. More than a great school, a special home, a comfortable church, a cozy office, and security in relationships. I want want to see Jesus move in people's lives. If everything else is sacrificed, this....yes THIS will be enough.

Let the tears come Jesus.....I am yours, send me.

_________________________________________________________________________________

If you would like more information on the church plant and how you can get involved, please visit
www.transformationcc.com

Six Months Later

Six Months Later........Waking you up for school was not such a chore because you smiled at me first thing. You are a morning person, unlike the rest of your new family.

Six Months Later.......We sit in the rocking chair, as has become our nightly ritual, and my head explodes with pride as you count to five, name colors and say and do some letters in sign language. All with a language barrier and down syndrome. Let us not forget the full sentences you are speaking, and the following directions and understanding you could not do six months ago. This is not because your family is skilled at teaching. It is because you are so bright.

Six Months Later......My prayer life has changed as new concerns are on my horizon. What if people apply ugly stigma to you. What if people don't give you the chance to learn because they don't think you can. What if friends tease and teachers don't try, and I am left as the only advocate fighting a black dark world for you by myself. But, then we meet the beautiful young lady with down syndrome on her first day on the job. And she looked at you and said with enthusiasm, pride, and shared comradery

"Look, I have down syndrome just like you! We are a like and that's 

   awesome." 

And I realize, though I don't know what her life looked like up to that point, she was accepted, filled with pride and capable. And I know you will be too. We were not alone.

Six Months Later........My heart fills up and spills over as I see your brother and sister start to become the things we prayed for. Even though it's been hard. Even though everyone has had to adjust to many changes. They light up at the thought of playing with you. They hug you and comfort you when you cry. They stick up for you and protect you at the playground. They love you the way you are and are already advocates for you without even realizing it. I see it with the things they say; the pride that wells up in them when they tell others about their new sister. I see it with the grace they extend you when you fall short sometimes (as we all do sugar).

Six Months Later........I cried and cried as you still struggled with wounds and heartache from an institutionalized life for six years. The emotional scars are real and it has impacted everyone around you. We still pray for healing, and we still cling to Jesus when it's hard. Now that I've said that....not such a bad thing is it?

Six Months Later.....I struggle to find the words as I compose a letter to your birth mother. I didn't want to write her. I was terrified. But Jesus nudged (hard) and said, "I love her too as much as I love her child". And then suddenly I wanted to love on her too. She'll likely never meet me. But I wanted her to have a little peace knowing you are loved, happy, and growing. And to thank her, for giving you life and letting us love you when she knew her own love would not be enough. I am scared of the hard questions I may have to answer for you some day, but I know Jesus will fill the void and give us the words. Just like he did in the letter.

Six Months Later.......I marvel at your personality and how lucky we are to have someone like you in our family. Every time you laugh with your head thrown back and your whole body engaged my joy overflows.  Every time you walk into a room with a little swagger that screams confidence I smile at you. Every time your ornery streak puts a twinkle in your eye and shows me a little of your ingenuity, my exasperation turns to delight (eventually :-)). Like the time you learned to ride a bike so you could get away with speed from having to sit in time out when you were in trouble. You love, are a big personality wrapped up in the tiniest of packages and I get a front row seat to it. It's exhausting and its amazing.

Six Months Later.......You call me Mom and you call your Dad, Daddy with a level of familiarity that wasn't there before. With a devotion and a joy at the ownership that it means. You know we are there, and we are yours, and we aren't going anywhere. You love us, and we love you. I can think of no better reason to respond to the call of adoption than love. You taught us the meaning of the gospel in the deepest way and we are beyond blessed.

Six Months later our family is forever changed. It is imperfect and beautiful. It is hard and lovely. It is Family. All because you became a part of our lives we are far richer. I wouldn't have it any other way. Thank you Little Love. I am so looking forward to watching you grow up (just do it slowly for Mom please, k?)

Insecurity

As promised, here are five insecurities and what I have learned from them. That transparency stuff is harder to write than I thought, but I hope it encourages and grows you. It did me. 

1. Body Image: Oh gracious, what a can of worms. I have never cared for my legs with the remarkable bone structure that makes one of them crooked (plus their amazing ability to bruise just by looking at the corner of my bed). Nor my long fingers that I have affectionately called witch claws all my life, or the ridiculous little mole on the side of my nose that in my college days I gave serious thought to putting a nose piercing right through. There's more, but I know we can all relate and fill a page with our dislikes. Here is what I have learned.

NOBODY notices these things about me! I have learned that I am "fearfully and wonderfully made" and when I am putting on my makeup in the morning and my daughter asks me why I wear makeup......I struggle to find an adequate answer. 

At the end of school last year my SIX YEAR OLD began to struggle with body image. She was terrified of getting fat and as a result not wanting to eat much. I panicked the day she turned down a bowl of applesauce as a snack. We don't really discuss weight in our house. We don't obsess over wearing the right clothes (beyond making them match) or size or excersize (though my husband is trying to loose weight to support this cause, still we only talk about the orphans it helps, not Daddy's waistline). Where was this coming from?!

My precious kindergartner, whose over active imagination takes everything she sees as very plausible, had watched.....wait for it.......Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. She didn't want to be the mayor.

 

Oh my stars! We had a long talk about reality verses fiction (which is a whole different can of worms) and what healthy eating ACTUALLY looks like and she has been perfectly content ever since. She no longer turns down applesauce. 

It starts early friends. A sobering thought.

2. My Home and Possesions: We have so many unfinished projects in our house it is starting to get ridiculous. I have been staring at the same un-mudded drywall in my bathroom for 5+ years. My carpet is old and no stanley steamer visit has been able to bring it back to its former glory. 

I am also naturally a messy person. I am struggling to learn how to just “live” in my house. My mind wants things organized and pretty. I hate clutter. So I go back and forth between so spotless that I feel confident we could eat from the toilet rim, to so messy my kids are begging for the chance to help me clean (even though they’ve been following me around creating the chaos).

Note: this clean streak NEVER applies to laundry……..If I had all the wealth in the world I would buy new clothes every time the basket gets full. To me it is the chore that requires the MOST work with the least reward. After all, who is opening your dresser drawer and complimenting you on the nicely folded, sweet smelling clothes?

So naturally, when I walk into my dear friend’s house who went into withdrawals when her vacuum broke…….I get a little of the green eyed monster. And don’t even get me started on HGTV. I have a love/hate relationship with that station.

And then God took me to Kampala Uganda.

To live with a little less, and appreciate what you have a little more has been a richly rewarding lens adjustment.

We are learning to live within our budget and if that means driving a 200,000 mile minivan with a window that won’t roll down and a smidge of rust on it or approaching repairs on our home one small piece at a time….I’ll take it. I am grateful I can drive my kids to school and have a safe place to live. I also hope I have learned to make room for my budget to go where there are eternal implications. So many people were willing to sacrifice their money to bring a little girl with no future into our family. How could I live the same way after that?

Formative years me
My Parents graciously let
me get contacts and I wisely
cut my hair. Still...the braces.

3.  My Intellect: One of my very special friends from high school was getting married. This event was a big deal as they had been dating forever and had invited every person I walked through the most awkward stages of my life with. 

Tush length long uncombed hair stage, check. 

Acne stage, check. 

Ridiculous boy chasing stage, check.

 Every blessed awkward word out of my un-monitored mouth? Check. 

They had seen it all.  So naturally this event had me picking the “right dress”, grooming the husband adequately, and hoping to give the impression that I was mature, cultured, and intelligent. Right. Sitting at this table next to old crush locker mate and his beautiful wife we begin discussing another friend’s anticipated move to Seattle. We live in Indiana. And Educated me opens her mouth and says

“At least you won’t be very far away” because the word St. Louis had entered my brain the moment she said Seattle.

The silence was stunning. I promise I know where Seattle is. I’m not sure they know that I know where Seattle is. This happens all the time.

I value learning, adore studying history, and mostly get good grades. Yet some how I feel dumb around friends who have finished their PHDs while I am still struggling to finish my Bachelors. (I keep putting it on hold for the family). 

Yet do I value knowledge or wisdom? I think education is incredibly important (I want to be a teacher for crying out loud), but if my value comes from the degrees listed after my name or my ability to tell witty jokes and recall trivia, then I am misunderstanding the value of Wisdom. Education is a tool, not a definition. The wisdom I should value seeking is actually foolishness to the world.  

4. My Parenting: Anyone else’s head spin with the Mommy wars? I recently watched two blogs take each other on. One mom was encouraging Mothers to put their digital devices down so as not to miss the precious moments of their children’s lives, while the other was encouraging mother’s to take a break from all the mommy guilt and pick up the device again. Both had good intentions. But the comments….oh the comments. The debate seemed as heated as the breastfeeding war. Parenting, especially Motherhood is a sensitive subject. When I was pregnant EVERYONE had an opinion on how I should raise my littles, or even how my pregnancy should play out. I thought I’d get a break from that when we were adopting. All of you adoptive Mamas are laughing hysterically right now. In addition to external guilt, I place a lot on myself and my anxiety over my children. Am I meeting their emotional needs so they are secure? Am I preparing them for school? Am I giving them enough independence and responsibilities so that they grow up with integrity instead of entitlement? When I lose my cool, and yell, have I failed them? Or my most terrifying thought…what if they turn away from Jesus when they are older because I didn’t live out our faith right in our home?

What I have learned as I raise these treasures on loan to me has been huge. To begin, God entrusted them to me. That can feel overwhelming, but it also encourages me. If He entrusted them to me, with all their unique needs, gifts and struggles, He will be there to help me raise them. Because of this I have learned that when I fail, I should go to Him about it. Shame and self loathing do nothing. The God who designs souls can redeem and restore. And when I do something right or my children show the fruit of that, I need to praise Him. When wisdom completely leaves me in difficult situations, I need to seek His wisdom above all else (including the blog comments).

As for the pressure of others I’ve learned a few things as well. First believe it or not is to listen. Much of the advice of others even when unwanted comes from a place of experience or deep conviction. Self reflection is not a bad thing when used out of a desire to do our best by our children and not a place of needless shame. Our automatic response should not always be defensive. We have a lot to learn from each other.

Of all the special people she gained by getting a family,
I think she digs having a Grandpa the most!

Second is I had to learn what situations apply to me and what ones don’t. This requires Godly wisdom. About half way through our adoption I suddenly felt guilty for taking our daughter out of her culture. There were a lot of advocates coming on the rise for supporting first families and doing orphan prevention. These organizations are great by the way. I completely support what they are doing! But I started to feel like I was doing something wrong. So with prayer and research I took a close look at our daughter’s situation. She had birth parents who were still living. However, the social support of their particular district was very sound and helpful. They went through great lengths to support the birth parents in any way possible and convince them to let go of the stigma of special needs and raise their child. Her parents would have none of it. Without going into detail, let’s just say it got ugly. On top of that her city spent three years trying to find her a local home. Upon meeting the social workers, I knew they had worked so hard for her. I had no doubt they had done everything they could. Her only two choices were international adoption or the cold dangerous walls of the mental asylum. When you realize what someone is saying does not apply to you, it is hard to get defensive.

Third, extend grace for things said out of ignorance. Educate kindly when we can, and let go of those situations where they aren’t really looking for more information. It is ok to not have the last word, I promise.

And lastly, for things said out of spite or hatred, release that to the Father. Recognize that for what it is….INSECURITY. Hmmmmm. Guess a little grace is needed there. Pray that He would fill the void from which the hate bubbles up. “For out of the Overflow of the Heart, the mouth speaks.” Proverbs 4:23

5. This one is far more difficult to write about than my bruised knees or my shabby car. It is the one I have the least control over and the most insecurity over. They are my relationships. I do get a certain excitement when my Instagram account has enough likes that Instagram can’t write them out individually underneath the photo.  I wonder frequently if I am bothering people, or if they really like me. I used to stew, and rehash, and fuss over so many little situations to make sure I did the right thing so this person will like me. I have a very painful broken relationship with someone I love deeply that I CANNOT fix. To me this is a black mark on my faith. We Christians are supposed to have it all together right?

This ONE insecurity has brought me directly to the throne of grace in the deepest way (so far, I know He wants to bring me deeper).

Friends if this is your struggle, go straight to Jesus and ask Him to be your security. DAILY. Would you be satisfied in Him if you had nothing else? If the world around you crumbled and those around you abandoned you? Would He be enough? When someone says things about you that are not true, and lives to destruct, will you be secure in what God says about you? When you finally learn that it takes one to forgive but two to reconcile can you release control to the ultimate restorer of relationships? And trust Him for the result?

All of these insecurities in my life have one root. Pride. I want to be the best, appear the best, say the best, have the best, and live the best. And I want to have control over it all and be elevated in the eyes of others.  This is no way to live. But I know I am not alone in this struggle. I hope if you are struggling with self doubt that this bring some encouragement and some inspiration to go to the source of meaning that is worth feeling pride over. “Each time he said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness’. So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9 Go to Him about your insecurity. Dare Him to fill the void. Let Him amaze you.

Father forgive me for my focus on myself. Help me to see others instead. Help me to seek You above all. Help me to release EVERYTHING into Your capable hands. Be my security. Be my all so that there is no room for anything else. 

Carrie

The Blog

Good Morning! I hope this blog finds you with a few restful moments and some coffee in hand. That's where it is finding me and that is a blessing. Our summer has been a summer of difficult transitions, lots of appointments and responsibilities and LOTS of noise. With the house empty because everyone is at school and the quiet that has ensued....I am not exactly crying. Though I did cry when my youngest informed me on the second day of kindergarten that he could handle walking himself to class.

I mentioned on my other blog that I would be transitioning to a new one. Our adoption journey is over and now we have begun the journey of investing in our new family and the day to day with our precious one. That journey was filled with more faith building moments than I can count and we are humbled and amazed by the God that brought us to our precious girl. If you would like to read about it feel free to follow the previous link, or if you have any questions about adoption, leave a comment and we will connect!

I am sitting here struggling with why I am on the computer doing this right now. Cute pictures of my kids to share with my family is a mostly acceptable form of blogging. An adoption journey, though widely varied and passionate opinions of the subject abound (as they do with every single topic regarding parenting and children), is still a fairly acceptable form of blogging. But what if this blog reads like my prayer journals? What if I am transparent, open and honest, about the things that matter most to me?

If you have ever read the comment section of any blog like that, you will see why I am nervous. The internet can be filled with as much hate as we are hearing about on the news right now. The power of words can destroy. For a verbal and impulsive person I have learned the truth of James the hard way many times.

 "But no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison. Sometimes it praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God."

Despite this, I still feel this tug that I should be writing. God steered me a different direction from the journalism career I originally desired. However, I don't think this piece of my life that still writes endlessly in blank page after blank page was an accident. Perhaps God will use it to encourage someone. Perhaps He may motivate another to seek justice for someone without a voice, or be moved to mercy when they have been hurt. Or maybe God will simply use it to change me. Only Eternity will know. I have no intentions of being the next Ann Voskamp or Jen Hatmaker (two wildly different writing styles that both encourage and convict) but I do want to be obedient to what God has asked of me. So insecurities and fears included, here we go.

Speaking of insecurities, I would like to start out this blog as humble and transparent (and moderately silly) as I can be. I've been stewing on this all morning, so I will be presenting to you soon my list of 5 insecurities I have about myself and what God has taught or is still teaching me through them. I hope you can relate to a few. Keep an eye out for them!

For now I leave you with 1 Peter 1:23-25

"For you have been born again, but not to a life that will quickly end. Your new life will last forever because it comes from the eternal, living word of God. As the Scriptures say, 

People are like grass;

their beauty is like a flower in the field.

The grass withers and the flower fades.

But the word of the Lord remains forever.

And that word is the Good News that was preached to you."

This time is so short. Even if all we hope for comes true, and we go peacefully in our favorite chair, old and gray, enjoying the sunshine.....it's still so brief, like a vapor. What makes this time matter? What gives it value? 

May we fix our eyes on eternity and the one who resides over it. May we find value in Who, not what, and live our brief lives accordingly. 

Sincerely,

Carrie