The Warrior Princess Diaries

Court Program Keeps Families Together

2011-12-15T14:35:00.000-08:00

A Westmoreland has created a court program designed to keep families together.

God bless Feliciani.

2011-09-11T08:48:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago...

Through my kitchen windows I see my daughter playing on the swingset that sits in a cleared alcove just inside the woods which edge our yard. She's taken two of her "babies" out with her. One of the dolls she has placed in a pink plastic car-seat-carrier, while the other she balances gently on the adjacent sling swing, using it as a makeshift cradle. The sun shines through the trees, creating dappled patches of light on the dirt. I see my daughter's mouth moving, but the windows are closed and I can't hear the sounds of her play. It's as though I'm watching a silent movie; the effect is magical.

She loves twirly skirts, this little girl of mine, and today's skirt, three layers of ruffles and zebra stripes, flutters as she spins. From this distance I can't quite make out the ribbons and sequins which I know adorn her pink t-shirt, nor can I see the lace edging of her grey leggins, which peek out just above her pink tennis shoes. A purse dangles from one wrist, and she gently touches one of the babies with her other hand. She is completely, utterly perfect.

And I wish, with all my heart, that her other mama could see her right now.

2011-09-06T09:36:00.000-07:00

Tell me, again, what a miracle it is.

2011-08-30T15:23:00.000-07:00

I sincerely wish I could take credit for this little piece of awsomeness.

Be quiet

2011-08-29T08:43:00.000-07:00

I never cease to be amazed when adoptive parents and those hoping to adopt want to silence the voice of adult adoptees. It occurs with such frequency that I really should be used to it by now, but by golly it still feels like a sucker punch every time it happens.

The shocking thing to me is that it happens even when I have expressed myself in what I hoped was a very gentle way. No matter how diligently I try to use "I" messages, no matter how I try to preface with "I feel" or show sensitivity to the particular aches of waiting for a placement, I am met with a response that says, "Go away! Your perspective is raining on our parade! We just wanted to talk about adoption. You are not welcome here!" As though, when it comes to adoption, I should have nothing to say.

I wonder how they will feel one day, when they have walked a bit further and grown a bit wiser -- when it is their adult children others seek to silence.

2011-04-06T18:12:00.000-07:00

Many thanks to Melissa at Yoon's Blur for sharing the following link and to Slant Eye for the Round Eye for providing it originally. It seems appropriate to focus on Korea in light of the fact that I'm feeling my daughter's losses particularly heavily. It also seems safer than the long list of things I hate about adoption that I'm ready to spew all over my pretty little blog.

Guest Post: The Business Of Adoption Agencies From The Inside (A Korean American Adoptee's Perspective)
Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Couple outraged after hospital takes newborn baby away

2011-03-31T13:06:00.000-07:00

Holy moly. I can't even imagine.

Couple outraged after hospital takes newborn baby away - KTNV ABC,Channel 13,Las Vegas,Nevada,News,Weather,Sports,Entertainment,KTNV.com,Action News .:.

Thoughts?

Hope for Families

2011-03-29T07:11:00.000-07:00

How I love seeing the Church working to help families thrive! I'm greatly encouraged by the work Compassion does and am priviledged to partner with them.

How Does the Church Offer Hope for Children in Poverty?

Learn how to sponsor a child.

Adoptees receive original birth certificates

2011-03-27T07:33:00.000-07:00

Still think adoptees aren't profoundly affected by the loss of original identity?

learning about heritage

2011-03-24T16:59:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not taking up fishing. I am, however, taking a risk. And since the Nester declared Tuesday as Take A Risk Day, I decided I might as well participate and tell you all where I'll be this Friday night.

First things first though.

1) The Nester's blog is not an adoption blog.
2) If you have not been there, but like affordable decorating ideas, you really must visit.
3) My house doesn't look like any of the pictures you'll see there. I mean, wow. These women do some heavy duty projects.

But back to the fish. Herring, to be exact, which tonight I will be cooking and eating. With beets.

On purpose.

This would probably be a good time to explain that I currently live in the city where I was born. There is an active group of people here with whom I share a heritage, though I have not yet shared in their community. They have their own church, school, community building, and a credit union. Church is still conducted in the language of the "mother country", as is the preschool. These folks were even doing culture camp before it was cool.

So right, herring. Browsing this group's website recently, I saw that this community is now offering cooking classes demonstrating how to prepare tradition foods from the-country-I-am-declining-to-name-because-I'm-too-scared-that-someone-who-knows-me-in-real-life-might-read-this-blog-and-figure-out-it's-mine.

So where's the risk, you ask? Certainly beets and herring aren't blog worthy.

Back up bit...right up to the point where I told you that this is all taking place in the town in which I was born. From all I have heard, this particular community, the families who share this heritage, is quite tightly knit. It's fairly likely that if I had been parented by my birth family, rather than relinquished and adopted, I would have grown up as a part of this community. At the very least, I would had some inclusion in one of the several similar communities in this and neighboring states. By going to this class, I will not simply be learning to prepare a few ethnic dishes, nor just uncovering a bit about my heritage. Rather, I will be sticking one tiny toe across the threshold between the life that was chosen for me, and the one I might have had.

To up the ante even further, there's some possibility (though I don't know how likely) that people within this group, perhaps even some of those who will be at the class, know of my existence. To be honest, I don't know if this part of my heritage comes to me from my mother, my father, or both. I also can't say with any certainty that my mother was from this area, despite the fact that I was born here. At the time I was born, unwed mothers were all too often shipped off to live with relatives, or worse, to maternity homes, to keep keep their pregnancies secret, so there is also some chance that neither of my biological parents had a strong connection to this particular community.

Still, it's a risk. I imagine walking in and hearing a gasp because I look just like...well...someone (surely I must look someone, mustn't I?); or receiving an angry stare because I dared to show up there; or sitting alone, a stranger among people who might have been mine.

In reality, the evening probably won't nearly as dramatic as an any of those scenarios. Most likely I'll meet a few nice older ladies, make some small talk, and eat herring.

With beets.

2011-02-11T19:18:00.000-08:00

Tonight...

I just

simply

miss her.

2010-11-30T09:00:00.000-08:00

For someone who doesn't like change, I've moved an awful lot. In our first eleven years of marriage, my husband and I, along with our children once they came along, lived in eight different homes. (Thankfully we've stayed put for six-and-a-half years now.) And that's not counting the two several-month stints we spent at my parents' house while we were in transition. Each time my husband urged me to purge some of my treasures, and each time I dismissed the suggestion. What were these treasures I wouldn't part with? Decorating magazines. Lots and lots of them.

I love decorating. I'm not necessarily wonderful at it, but I enjoy it just the same. I like pretty things. I like curling up in front of a fire and pouring over a glossy magazine filled with pictures of beautiful rooms. (My personal favorite, and the one who's issues I've toted from house to house, is Victoria...it just oozes gorgeousness.) Nice furniture stores are even better. It's like being in a magazine. I'm sure more than one salesperson has been concerned by my enthusiasm as I wax poetic over chairs with tufted backs and contrasting welting, or gently stroke gleaming, curvy legged desks. But I can't help myself. It's all just so....pretty.

So, it's probably no surprise that I'm also a fan of decorating blogs. When my homeschooling house is looking more like the home of an absent-minded professor than the haven I've envisioned, with notebooks and dishes scattered across the counters and pencils and erasers littering the floor, I can click on blog for a quick respite. My own mini-retreat in the middle of another crazy day. (FYI, I was interrupted during this last little bit so I could see ds's latest Lego creation: a "sword-slash-axe" his little Lego dude was holding. It's recess here right now.)

Sometimes though, worlds collide with an unexpected jolt. Like when one of your favorite decorating blogs starts talking about adoption. It's not that I'm angry. It's not that I care that much. It's not that I wish them any ill. It's just that it wasn't supposed to happen there. It was one of my little "happy places". And now it isn't. The countless well-wishes and comments praising the wonders of adoption, left by well-meaning readers, just leave me feeling alone and defeated. I hurt for the child about whom others have already said, "...adoption is a great way to give back." I hurt knowing that this child may have some wounds to contend with someday, despite the "good thing" these bloggers are longing to do, and contrary to the general celebratory mood there. And I hurt, I guess, because it's so very hard to consistently go against the grain - to see things so differently than others do, and to continually question if maybe I am the one with the cloudy vision.

2010-10-08T13:38:00.000-07:00

Whew, it's been a while! This wasn't intentional. Our school year began in earnest five weeks ago, and I have to say, homeschooling is kicking my royal fanny! I'm sure we'll settle in again soon, but in the meantime I find my self remembering oh that's right, this is work. Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to be able to spend my days with my kids, and extremely glad for the right to educate my children as I see fit, but there are certainly things that are sacrificed in living out this choice. (A moderately clean house and anything remotely resembling solitude come to mind.) Time spent in the online worlds has dwindled as well.

On the adoption front, this hasn't been a bad thing. It's been rather nice, actually, not to be quite so focused on points of view with which I really don't agree. At all. It takes a great amount of energy to maintain such a high level of annoyance, and it's been a bit of a relief to let some of that go. Oh, I still disagree...vehemently...with much of what's out there, but it's nice not to dwell on it. Someone wise once said we should think on "...whatsoever things are true, honest, just, lovely, of good report...". I should probably make more of an effort to follow that advice.

(Ok, yeah. I can't just pass over that one. You can find it in Philippians 4. And it wasn't just anybody, it was Paul. Paaaaauuuul. Permanently, drastically, changed-by-the-grace-of-God Paul.)

Adoption talk doesn't seem to fit that criteria, and frankly, from this side of the conversation it often feels like an uphill battle. Well, it is an uphill battle. Still, I can't drag myself away completely. I have a few boards I check, and friends from the online adoption community I keep up with, and I will continue posting here as I'm able. It's just that I don't have the time to read or respond to other blogs with much frequency these days.

So what does fit the criteria? We're reading The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame. The language is just beautiful. For my own pleasure I'm listening to an audio book of Jane Eyre (fabulous little MP3 thing from the library) and am about to begin Pride of Carthage , by David Anthony Durham, about Hannibal. This is a real change for me, as I'm a romance kind of gal.

We've been listening to lots of lovely music while the kids do their work, from quiet, classical pieces to requiems composed in the 1400's. We're becoming familiar with the art of N.C. Wyeth, who illustrated Treasure Island (which we just finished), Robin Hood, Robinson Crusoe, and many other classic works. I know really nothing about art, but I love the intense color in many of his paintings. Plus, the boys kind of dig pictures of ships, pirates, and knights, so there's that.

We're enjoying a lovely, mild fall. We've gone apple picking at a nearby orchard with a few other homeschooling families. Yesterday my kids spent the afternoon catching (and making homes for) toads and salamanders, and playing with the kids next door, while I had a great time of mutual encouragement with their mom (who also homeschools).

Life, overall, is good.

Oh, I even resisted commenting on a high school friend's Facebook page, after one of her friends commented in response to a "what am I going to do with my kids" post, that she was considering putting all hers up for for adoption. Banged my head against the wall a few times, but I didn't comment.

Did I mention this is an uphill battle?

One Sweet Blogger

2010-08-19T11:46:00.000-07:00

Adoption blogs abound today, many with blissfully unaware adoptees (and their personal information) taking the spotlight. I hope you'll take the time to click the little green link below and read my friend Andi's wise and sensitive advice on loving our children well by keeping their personal stories private.

One Sweet Family - Our Adoption Adventure: Adoption and your child's privacy.: "As I cruise around the world wide web a large part of my time is spent perusing adoption blogs and articles. It is a great way to get educa..."

How young is too young?

2010-08-12T05:32:00.000-07:00

Most of you probably know that I am a proponent for moms parenting when possible. While I understand that relinquishment and adoption will sometimes be necessary, I believe unnecessary adoptions happen all too often. Still, when considering a very young teen, things are not so clear to me.

That's why I love this article about a Marilyn DeAlba, a mom who gave birth at 13, is parenting her son, and is now going on to college. It's an excellent example of what can happen when a young mom wants to parent and has the support to do so.

Support is critical. Without it, a teen will stand a very slim chance of being able to provide adequately from a financial standpoint, and let's face it, teens still need some amount of parenting themselves. Additionally, parents can help their teen transition into her new role by providing needed mentoring and accountability. Certainly the situation is not without difficulty, but family support greatly impacts the success of a teen who wishes to parent. Upon her graduation from high schools, DeAlba's brother, Enrique DeAlba, is quoted as saying, "We're all very proud of her. We stay together and that's what makes us a good family. We're all there for each other." I think he sums that up quite well.

Still, I'll concede that family support alone is not enough to enable a teen, particularly a young teen, to parent well. At some point they themselves have to change their frame of mind from one of child to parent, and they have to be willing to put in the effort that parenting requires. But the point is that they can. If they are willing to make those steps, they can do it, and society does them a disservice by assuming from the get go that they can't or won't.

DeAlba's son was born with some challenges due to stress at birth, making her transition into motherhood all the more daunting. Furthermore, she faced additional challenges simply because of her youth, yet the 13 year old confronted her difficulties with determination. The linked article, by Theresa Harrington of the Contra Costa Times, says this:

Three weeks after Chris was born, DeAlba brought him home, where they holed up together in her bedroom.

"At first, I was sad, depressed and stressed," she said. "I didn't feel like talking to anyone. I just wanted to be left alone with my baby. I would take my (doctor-prescribed) Vicodin. I didn't eat. I was in a lot of (post-Caesarean) pain. I dropped 40 pounds."

But she didn't give up on her son. And she realized that to help him, she had to show the world that she was responsible enough to take care of him.

"I was dealing with a lot of social workers," she said. "They thought I was an unfit mother because of my age. They were just making assumptions. That made me have even stronger feelings that I needed to prove people wrong. So, I did."

Though DeAlba seems content with her decision to parent, her success has not come without sacrifice. This loss of loss of freedom during the teen years is yet another factor that causes many to advocate for placing in cases like DeAlba's. It isn't fair, they say, for the mom to lose out on those years and be forced to grow up so soon. If she relinquishes, she can go on with her life, and be a kid like she's supposed to. And baby can have a mom who's ready to parent. It's all very win-win.

But you know, I think there's more going on here. I think, particularly in regards to extremely young women such as DeAlba, society dismisses possibility of normal maternal emotions occurring. It's as though, because they are practically children themselves, they're not really mothers.

DeAlba nips this thinking in the bud.

Although social workers said DeAlba could give Chris up for adoption, she never considered that.

"There was this love, this connection, this bond," she said. "I wouldn't go through all that pain and all that suffering with my family to give up. I'll do anything in my power to keep me and my son together."

Um, yeah. Maybe it really is that simple.

2010-06-02T20:10:00.000-07:00

I have an apology to make.

It occurred to me, reading through my last post, that I sounded extremely critical when I said this:

And the birthmothers there? (who wear that title by choice (and I DO support
their right to choose their title (and can I even use this many parentheses?)))
They swear adoption is wonderful. Hard sometimes, but really wonderful.

The truth is, I do not relate to mothers who are happy about adoption, or who are glad they chose it. I can't relate. As a mom myself I just can't get there. All I have are my own experiences, and there is nothing in them that can help me understand. Honestly, I can't even allow myself to imagine for long being in that situation. My imagination is vivid, and I have to quickly pull out of that scene as the thought of losing any of my children is simply too painful. I really, really just can't even think about it.

I did not mean to imply that moms who placed should only experience regret and misery, though I can't imagine anything else. I have not walked a mile in your shoes. I haven't even walked a step. Honestly, I probably won't ever really understand, and I might even continue to be frustrated. But I didn't mean to say it quite so inkindly.

Adoption Forums

2010-05-17T05:42:00.000-07:00

I belong to a few online adoption groups. No surprise there, I'm sure. One of them, the first one I joined, has been instrumental in expanding my understanding of adoption through honest, sometimes raw, conversation. It isn't always pretty, but it's been good.

Another forum is newer to me, and I'll tell ya, I rarely see anything of substance discussed there. Adoption is hope. Adoption is a dream. If I am to believe what I read there, adoption must be a beautiful happily-ever-after.

Hopeful couples there actively network, sharing advice on advertising through media and simple word of mouth in order to "find a birthmother". Others are convinced they need to wait for their baby to find them. God's plan and his timing are referred to ad-nauseum. And the birthmothers there? (who wear that title by choice (and I DO support their right to choose their title (and can I even use this many parentheses?))) They swear adoption is wonderful. Hard sometimes, but really wonderful.

And I read and I read, and sometimes I comment....and there is really no desire there to dig any deeper than that happy-happy-joy-joy mindset....and I just DO. NOT. GET IT.

mirror, mirror

2010-05-08T12:42:00.001-07:00

I admit it, I've been that woman.

You know, the one who thinks a girl should relinquish just because she's a teen. The one who says, "Have you thought about adoption?" The one who cringes with hopelessness when the girl says, "Yeah I thought about it, but I could never give my baby away."

Yep, that one.

She was my neighbor, and admittedly she was not just a teen. She was a beer-drinking, pot-smoking, oh-my-gosh-she'll-never-get-her-act-together-and-now-she's-pregnant-and-I-knew-that-was-going-to-happen teen. So in my defense, I did have some cause for concern.

Recently, I saw her in the grocery store. Her child is now six, and once again she was pregnant.

And she was radiant.

Six years is a long time. Long enough to get healthy. Long enough to grow up, get married, and buy a house. Long enough to get your act together.

Friends, I was so ashamed when I saw her. Oh, I was thrilled for her, of course. She looked absolutely beautiful, and was clearly really happy and well. I had prayed for her often in those early years, and I am beyond grateful for the work God has done in her life, and for her own work for that matter. I'm proud of her. But oh, to see her daughter standing there holding her hand, and to know that in my heart of hearts I had really thought she should not parent -- well, it was painfully humbling.

I know it could have gone the other way too. I know that happens, and that not every teen mom goes on to be a good mom. But you know, many of them do. And I want to remind you, and myself, that we can't see what the future will bring. What looks hopeless now might be just fine in a few years. I want to shake people promoting adoption on the basis of age and say, "Please...please, don't encourage that girl to place just because she's young! You don't know how it might turn out. And if you're so concerned, why don't you help her?" How many more women will be separated from their children for nothing more than youth?

Sigh.

So that's it, that's my confession. I've been that woman.

But I won't be her again.

2010-05-03T20:40:00.000-07:00

Don't miss this post by Coco over at Grown in my Heart.

2010-04-28T04:40:00.000-07:00

My friend Holly, who is a mom of two daughters through international adoption, recently posted this as her facebook status:

"So many people say that my girls are lucky to have me...and while yes I think it's true, I am more blessed to have them, ten times at least. My girls are not "second-best or second-choice" to me, but in some ways I AM second-best to them. If all was right in the world, they would not have been made mine."

Beautifully said, Holly.

Angry adoptee

2010-03-31T13:03:00.000-07:00

I'm a sucker for romantic fiction. I love the stuff. Yet I don't always want to read all the...er...details.

I've tried Christian romance, "inspirational" I think it's called, but it left me rather uninspired. That is, until I found Francine Rivers. Yes, people have mentioned her before. I realize she's been around for a while now, but I never tried any of her books because I was expecting more of the same.

Shame on me. I just picked up A Voice in the Wind, the first book in her Mark of the Lion series, and I'm pleasantly surprised. Ok, hooked actually.

I'm completely taken with the main character, Hadassah. She is gentle in spirit despite great trial. My own shortcomings become more obvious as I read. I am not gentle, not really. Not when I'm hurt. Not when I'm angry. Today is one of those days when I'm so mad I could just
spew my little self all over the Internet.

I'm angry about the entitlement exhibited by so many people waiting to adopt. I'm angry at the way they constantly refer to "our birthmother" when talking about a woman who is considering them to parent their child. Do people not yet know better? Do they really believe she exists for the purpose of provided them with a baby? That she is theirs? They must. If not, there would not be groups dedicated to finding a birthmother. Because that's all you really need, you know. You just need to find a birthmother, then you'll get your baby!

It's crazy. It's sick. It makes me so angry.

I'm angered by the blogs by young, new moms, declaring the wonder of being a birthmother. Many of these women are extremely young, and have experienced some pretty clear manipulation, though I know they do not see it. They seem almost bewildered that they feel the stirrings of grief. They are not far enough out to have processed half of what they're going to feel, and are still under the influence of those who manipulated them, yet they offer their "enlightenment" to other girls in crisis. I'm not angry with them, they are entitled to their own understandings of their situations and are clearly still under the influence of those who subtly convinced them to relinquish. And while I long for them to wake up, I dread it as well. There may come a day when they see more clearly, and with that clarity they will potentially have great pain. How can I wish that on them? I don't, and yet I do. And I'm angry that those who could have helped them led them to relinquish instead. Friends, I am angry.

In the story, sweet Hadassah is a believer. While those around her are blinded by the world and fall prey to its lies, she views the common customs of Rome and Ephesus with clarity. She grieves as those she cares for fall into pits of their own making. She has eyes to see.

Lets move on from Rivers to another favorite author: John Eldredge. I admit, he can be a bit controversial, and I like to read Eldredge with a Bible right next to me as I sometimes question his context or interpretation of scripture. Nonetheless, some of his insights have had profound impact on my husband and me regarding some particular spiritual truths. In Captivating, a book he co-authored with his wife Staci, he suggests that Satan has a particular hatred for woman and outlines quite convincingly what he calls a "long and sustained assault on femininity". To fully explain what he means, I'd have to quote an entire chapter. Instead, I'll give you the end, where he says,

"You really won't understand your life as a woman until you understand this:
You are passionately loved by the God of the universe.
You are passionately hated by his Enemy."

And you know what? I feel like Hadassah, because I see it. I see this truth demonstrated time and time again as women who could parent with a bit of encouragement and support are convinced they are not enough for their children. What better way to destroy a woman than to separate her from her child? What better way to assault the essence of who she was created to be? Talk about a strategy...shoot...take my kid and I'll be half-way to crazy in 3 seconds flat. The Bible tells us that our "enemy the devil prowls around like a lion looking for someone to devour." While before saying this Peter has been speaking about right living and suffering for being a Christian, his statement is no less true in this context. There is one who is bent on our destruction. But it's hard to defend ourselves when we don't have eyes to see. Even harder when those promoting the lies are in positions of religious authority. Yet it happens. Time and time again, it happens.

And today it makes me mad.

It makes me downright angry.

Open Adoption Bloggers Interview: Part 3

2010-03-25T13:46:00.000-07:00

My apologies to Tammy for not getting this out here sooner. Live and blogging do not always mix well. I know Tammy worked very hard on these answers, and I am pleased to be able to share them with you here.

Q: Before staying home with your kids, you worked as a pastor. I'd love to hear more about that. Can you share a bit about how you arrived at the decision to pursue formal ministry? Additionally, you talked here about a new direction you feel the Lord moving you, though you did say it was not perfectly clear yet. Anything you'd be able to add here?

A: Now, this is a topic that I don’t talk about hardly at all these days, since I’m on a “parenting sabbatical” for the foreseeable future. But being called to be a pastor, and the opportunity to serve the church is a privilege and a heavy burden and the work (when I get to do it) is both fulfilling and overwhelming.

Since I don’t seem to do anything the easy way, in a nutshell, I could say I took the long and winding road to answering God’s call on my life to ministry, most especially to young people in their teen and college years. After a few years of near faithlessness, my journey back started when I ran into a really well-meaning lady in the ladies’ department of the JC Penney where I was working during college. She bought clothes for a cruise and invited me to her class for college students at her church. I was pretty lonely and thought, “what the hay? I’ll throw caution to the wind and check things out”. That next Sunday started a six year trek of amazing and most definitely miraculous moments (some of them clouded in tragedy ~ see my post http://canonlyimagine.blogspot.com/2006/03/to-remember-shawn.html)... Of people pouring love onto me regardless of my choices and questions… of the joy of finding acceptance in a group where I could use my talents of music and drama…of being asked to take responsibility to help lead the youth (and discovering through their lives the true meaning of ministry and discipleship)…of godly counsel from loving friends and pastors that maybe I should consider more than my comfortable life in accounting…more responsibility…more loving support, and finally…

A moment. A moment at an altar. (And apparently I’ve never written about this moment because I’ve looked and nothing.) It wasn’t planned. And I don’t even remember what the Pastor said that put me into that place of surrender… surrendering so many things that I held on so very tightly right up to the moment I knelt…at that altar. I surrendered security in a great job, a nice little house, sweet car, loads of friends and church family, a ministry to young people I loved more than anything, proximity to my family. And the final, the thing I had the tightest~white~knuckled grasp on of all, my desire for a husband and children with whom to share my life. I had to let that long held dream if I was going to move forward. I couldn’t keep looking and hoping for companionship and a family if I was going to do this ~ what seemed like ~ overwhelmingly hard thing. I must admit I’ve never before or since felt such an uncontrollable urge to surrender. And there it was.

And within weeks, in obedience to God, I had talked to my boss (who was also one of my closest friends) and started the process of exploring schools. In a few months, I was putting my house on the market, selling my car… and in less than a year I was uprooted and in a different place, completely freaked out by all the theological language and Bible reading and (gasp!) homework. I was an accountant after all. Not a theologian. Years since I’d been in school. Not the best Bible reader ever. Lonely.

Those years in Seminary still seem like a personal retreat to me, so formative and fulfilling. It was an empowering experience as a woman who was brought up in a church where women were seen and not heard, and most definitely didn’t preach. The affirmation from God of that experience propelled me into opportunities to minister, mostly with young people, but also to preach to congregations and womens’ retreats, to have confidence enough to work directly with professors with so much wisdom, doing research for them, learning even more.

And there, in that place, BECAUSE I had surrendered and entered that time of seeming solitude, there I met my husband. COMPLETELY, I might add, an unintentional but wonderful consequence of obedience. And our call together became quite unique as we sought opportunities that would not only consider a woman as a leader (our church is wonderfully supportive of this, but there are areas where women aren’t as accepted in leadership yet…time…give it time they say), but also co-pastors. We felt so blessed to have opportunities given to us, and seek even now His guidance as to what is next.

To answer the second part, yes, there is something new brewing. All I can say in the vaguest of terms is that I hope that with time, I will begin to see all that I have been commissioned to learn through the struggles of our journey, both in ministry and in our family, and that I will be used of God to do His work with those experiences in mind. I have hopes that it might involved some (or lots!) of writing and speaking, but I am also seeking how God might work out the possibility of returning for yet more schooling to become a counsellor for families. Only time will tell. I am completely open. And without revealing too much, there is a decision being made in the next few weeks that could possibly affect the size of our family, which will change things even more. Only time will tell, and we will trust God to guide those making the decision on behalf of this precious person we love already. How’s that for a cliff hanger?

Q: Since I get to ask the questions, I'd love to take advantage of your Biblical knowledge and pastoring experience. Over the years I've often seen the Bible used to promote adoption. While I most certainly believe God is deeply concerned for those in need, (particularly children, who unable to protect themselves and are at the mercy of the adults in their world) and that our own hearts and actions should reflect his, I sometimes question the application of verses to suggest that they are undeniable proof of God's stamp of approval or even mandate to adopt. Could you speak to this at all?

A: It’s great to use a little of my theological training on a subject that is important to me. Not only that, but having a chance to think on this level is always a pleasure. Thanks for this terrific question!

I’ve always been a bit uncomfortable with the way some have justified their desire to adopt by quoting certain verses as permission or a mandate. I’ve thought often about this but never done the work to determine what is really true.
I find the word "adoption" used only five times in Scripture, all in the context of our relation to God rather than our relationships as physical families on earth. All these quotes are in Paul’s letters to various churches. And considering that in the first century when the New Testament was written, adoption of children into families to create families was not widely practiced in that culture, much less the Christian context, then to me, it is a stretch to speak of a Biblical command for anyone to ADOPT physically a child into their family based on these Scriptures. The parallel just isn't there and it is too much of a stretch for me to some sort of MANDATE from God to adopt into those passages. And also considering, that Paul the writer of these letters, was Jewish, it is hard to imagine that this is what he meant since nothing considered adoption is spoken of directly in the Old Testament and was not ever a practice of the Jewish people.

I went to the Greek New Testament, the original language of the New Testament to try to figure out the true meaning. When the book of Romans (and a passage in Ephesians and Galations as well) speaks of the "spirit of adoption" it is more about the anticipation of being put back to something that we once were. I see the possibility of the true spirit of this text is more about reunion, and relationships being made right, then about a child being put into another family to create a family. Since we are His Creation, really, we were automatically his sons and daughters at that time. Why would we need to be adopted children at all?

The way I see a Christian theology (and I know there are different view points), we were created into His image when we were made as humans, and so, we are His children in the beginning. But we chose another way, a way less than what he wanted for us in the Garden of Eden (you know, the apple, the serpent, the woman, the man eating...the FALL from grace) . Therefore, something else had to be done to bring us back into right relationship with our Creator. So, the spirit of adoption spoken of in these verses is more about being restored back into relationship at some future time, that some day, we will become true heirs as he initially intended when He made us. Spiritually, we are adopted BACK into the family when we make things right with the Father. We are made as if we were never separated from the family.

And the concept of adoption in the first century confirms this for me. Adoption back then was not about setting children into families but rather, a slave owner who confers "sonship" upon a slave, making him more than a slave in the family, but an heir. This may not have happened often, but if a slave (or someone outside the family line ) was beloved in the family for a long time, and especially if there were no male heirs to carry on the family. In the same way, God, in our spiritual adoption, takes us out of bondage from the choices we made, and establishes us in the undeserved position as heir.

That said, there is a core Christian mandate of "compassion" spoken over and over. Compassion means "to suffer with" (as in how Christ suffered with us) which really is the bases to me at least of the whole idea of "Love your neighbor as yourself". I do see how in this regard, some might see the "call to adopt" in the sense of "loving their neighbor" and caring for those in need if indeed, there is a true need for which they need care. However, we (and I mean ME too...) have to be extremely careful not to allow our own motives to use this as a justification to do something that in the end might not be the most loving act. In this light, there are times IMO when adoption might be needed, but again, using the whole "adoption is in the Bible" thing to me doesn't really work as justification.

Q: Most people who know me know I do not like to cook. Still, my kids need to eat. Do you have a fast and easy, family-friendly recipe you can share? Extra points awarded if I can stick it in a crock-pot.

A: You asked for easy, you got it!!! Here’s one of my favourite recipes of all time, something I have served over and over again for company, and they rave! And it is SO easy… BBQ Beef on a bun

Select any cut roast and put it into the crock pot on high.

Add the following to the roast at the beginning (for a 4-5 pounds roast)
One packet onion soup mix
2 c. water or beef broth
1 T dry mustard
3 T Worcestershire sauce
Salt and pepper

Let it cook for a good eight hours. Take the roast out and let it cool down a bit. Remove the liquid from the crock pot as well (I save it for making beef stew…it is a good broth!).

Shred the beef and return to the crock pot. Add enough of your favourite BBQ sauce (mine is imported from the US… KC Masterpiece all the way!) to make to cover the meat generously. I also add about ¼ to ½ cup of the broth back in just to make sure it is moist enough. Let it cook in the crock pot on high for another hour or two.

And that’s it! Very simple. I serve with buns, pickles, homemade oven fries and of course, a veggie. I often serve my baked beans with this meal especially when we have company. But that is a whole other recipe for another time!!!

Open Adoption Bloggers Interview: Part 2

2010-03-24T10:20:00.000-07:00

I hope you've had a chance to check out Tammy's blog! Homeschooling and life in general have kept me from posting more of her thoughtful answers as quickly as I'd wanted to. Here, finally, is Part 2 of our Open Adoption Bloggers Inerview. Happy reading.

Q: You've been quite candid about some of the challenges open adoption presents. What motivates you to continue in a spirit of openness toward your children's first families, and to continue desiring relationship/contact? On a similar note, as an adoptee I've been encouraged by the way you honor your children's first families despite some difficult circumstances and differences in life choices. I was particularly touched by this post. Can you share how you came to understand the importance of this attitude, or what drives you in this? (I believe this is in regard to your March 9, 2007 post)

A: The primary motivation to continue to work towards openness with my children’s other families is the big picture. This is ultimately for my kids. I feel strongly that by being open to knowing and being known by their other families, we are helping them see where they come from, and have a better understanding of who they are. I believe they were created by God to be in their original families, and circumstances made a different choice on their behalf necessary. And now it’s my responsibility to do the foundational work in bridging the gap between what God originally intended and what has had to happen. I admit that I struggle a lot (and right now, I mean A LOT, as we work through some very tough issues in my daughter’s first family) with the work of it, and the heaviness in my spirit knowing all is not well. But that struggle is a part of the work of relationships. I made this commitment for my kids’ sake, and I will follow through. Someday I will have to explain this all to them in more detail, and I want them to know we tried, and hopefully the hard work will pay off by helping them know their other families well..

We committed long before we were ever considered a specific possibility as prospective parents that we would love and honor our children’s first families as we would hopefully love and honor any other human being with whom we come in contact. I believe with all my heart that love and respect go a long way in making life work together with anyone. And as I thought it through, I tried to imagine how I would want and hoped to be treated were I making this choice for my child. I would hope that, if by some tragedy, I was unable to be here for my children, and my children were being parented by another mom, that she would honor my memory, and my place in my child’s life. I am fully determined to do this as much as it is possible without lying to my children. As much as I share on this blog, there are depths to what has happened that can never be shared out of honor to my kids’ other parents.

Ultimately, it became solidly a priority when we met our kids’ first mothers and went through the heart wrenching days surrounding their respective births. We were bonded through not necessarily the child at this point, but the respect and honor they showed to us as human beings, and the privilege we felt from them allowing us to walk with them through this experience. And they have an honoured place in our lives, regardless of what happens, because they are our kids’ first mothers. They are important. They matter. And we will always honor them.

Q: Discussing adoption with our children is always something that should be done with a great deal of sensitivity. It becomes even more important to exercise wisdom when a child has a particularly difficult history or situation. I've heard from many parents who have legitimate concerns about sharing difficult information with with their children. How do you balance the need to be honest with your children regarding their own stories with the equally important task of caring for their hearts?

A: This is such a timely question. As Bug is older, and has so many questions, it is requiring more and more discernment about what to say. We have gone through a really hard and traumatic event in the loss of her sister this month, and that experience has brought up lots of feelings and questions from her about knowing them, and not knowing her story. So far, we have consciously decided that there is A LOT of her story that she will not know until she is much older. And our gauge for this is how heavy it is in our hearts. If we have heavy hearts about something we might have to tell her, then we hold it close until we know she can handle it. This takes a lot of discipline and just the right words because she is discerning and inquisitive and very sensitive.

And truthfully, it is really, really hard to know. She is grieving a lot of very undefined losses and I really wish she had the ability to understand the depths of it already. But as I think about it, it might be more to relieve my sorrow over watching her grieve, and my inadequacy I sometimes feel as her mother in not being able to fix it all for her. She should not have to feel these things at her age (okay, now I’m crying as I write this! Blech!) or even consider it. She knows a lot more than the average six year old about all sorts of things, including where babies come from, and when the ideal time is to have babies, etc. She knows this because we’ve already had to share some of her story, most notably her sister’s pregnancy and the birth of her niece. And she knows more about dying than we’d hope for her at this age too, but we can’t keep her from what is happening completely.

My main priority right now is as you said, “caring for her heart”. Bug is incredibly sensitive, feels deeply, and knows things intuitively. When she asks a question, we pause to consider, sometimes we tell her we’ll talk at bedtime (or whenever) if we’re in a public place or don’t have time to really explore it all at that time, and other times, we share what we know, and ask her to trust us with her story and we promise that someday we will tell her all of it.

Open Adoption Bloggers Interview: Part 1

2010-03-22T11:18:00.000-07:00

Here we go! Today I get to introduce you to my Open Adoption Bloggers Interview Project partner! First I want to thank Heather over at Production not Reproduction for putting this all together and pairing us all up. You can see all the pairings here.

I am super excited to introduce Tammy, an adoptive mom who blogs at You just never know where hope might take ya. She's way ahead of me, and just had her 5 year blogoversary! (OK Tammy, is that really a word or did you just make that up?) While much of her focus is adoption, she's also written about faith, infertility, loss, her time spent working as a pastor, and lots of other topics, and she's done so with wisdom and transparency. Reading her blog, I've been brought to both laughter and tears.

Tammy and I can each be a bit long winded, so to avoid some of the longest blog posts ever we've decided to publish just a few questions at a time. Hopefully what you read will leave you wanting more.

Thanks for your thoughtful answers Tammy. I've enjoyed getting to know you a bit better.

Q: Did you have any fears entering into adoption, or regarding openness in adoption?

A: We did have many fears when entering the adoption process. We really struggled with the decision to adopt versus remaining a family of two (since extensive fertility treatments just didn’t seem an option for us).

Our biggest fear about adoption in general was first, the process of being interviewed and how intrusive it would be, and whether or not we would be treated well based on the things we valued. As ironic as it seems now, since our faith and career choice were some of the reasons our kids’ first parents chose us (even though faith and church life was not a part of their lives), we worried a lot about being portrayed as some sort of religious freaks because we were pastors. It was an unfounded fear in the end, as both our private agency and Children’s services did an excellent job of presenting our life situation in an honest light.

Another fear we had was the waiting period and how we would react to the unknown, of not being able to plan (okay, so this fear was more me than Hubby) for our future, or if we planned something, would we miss an opportunity for a placement, or if we didn’t plan because we wanted to be available, would we miss a life changing experience because of it? For us, this was a very real fear, missing out one way or the other. In the end, we were able to have some pretty amazing experiences as a couple, as pastors and with our family during the wait times for our kids. Yes, it added another

As for open adoption, I’ve confessed this before but will again just in an attempt to be transparent, it was the last ‘option’ for adoption we considered. As we look back now, the fears we had, mostly founded in misconceptions put out there by the media and conversations with some people, (most of whom we found out had NEVER really considered or experienced openness in their adoptive relationships). We worried about things like not being good enough to ever be “chosen” by an expecting parent. That was our biggest fear. We also worried about interference from the birth parents, and the possible need of always working through barriers and boundaries. We worried that relating to our kids’ other families would take so much energy that we would never really have time to gel as a family ourselves. We worried about our privacy and safety. We worried about never truly feeling like our kid’s parents if in fact, their other parents were always in the “background”.

Q: How does the reality compare to your earlier conceptions?

A: Every single fear that we had about adoption and specifically, open adoption has not been realized. Our reality differs in so many ways from the worst that we imagined. In fact, as opposed to feeling the need to set boundaries in our relationships, at least for one of our kids’ first moms, she has decided to change things to practically closed, short of one update a year with pictures. It is basically closed, and we are quite sad about not knowing her and Si’s brother.

And in Bug’s family, again, we’ve been the ones who have desired more than they the contact. We have maintained our commitment to them even though they have been uninvolved, unable or unwilling to have true mutual contact. Every coveted visit we’ve been able to have has been initiated by us, and it has only been in the last 18 months that we have felt a mutual relationship growing between Bug and one of her sisters, who was placed in an adoptive home.

We feared it would be hard work, and that is certainly true, but our fear of always having to set boundaries, push them back so to speak, is as far from our reality as it could be. We do the hard work of keeping the door open and hopefully being available when they allow us to be, and when they need us. Although there are times when we have to let things go for awhile to gain perspective, we definitely feel the strong need to be open to relationships as they arise.

Anything you'd say to people feeling some of your same apprehensions?

The core idea that has helped me to move through some of my apprehensions is that ultimately, open adoption is a relationship between two people, or two groups of people with something precious and valuable in common. And as I see it, even though we are not kin by blood, we are as much bonded to each other because of the children we have in common, as a family who shares kinship through biology. Seeing it this way has really helped me focus on the long term, not getting so caught up in the crises that can arise, or the weariness that can come from constantly trying to be open to contact and often dealing with difficult and complex relationships.

I would also ask any family considering open adoption to really check and see if they are willing and strong enough to focus on the future possibilities rather than the present concerns. Although open adoption is lived in the nitty gritty of sometimes daily life, focusing on the long haul and benefits from ‘knowing and being known’ is for me at least, the only way to get through the harder stuff that may come up at times.

I would also say one more thing… don’t idealize the possibilities of open adoption. There are some situations out there that you read about that seem all ‘sunshine and love’. But truth be told, unless you’re living it, you don’t know what goes on in the bigger picture. Keep it in your mind that as much as open adoption gives you the opportunity to give your child all they need to know who they are, it is a relationship and there will always be something to work through. Keep things in perspective.

2. I love to read, and am usually reading several books at once. Could you give us a short list of books or studies that have been particularly significant in your spiritual walk and depth of understanding?

I am a book lover as well. We have WAY too many to even read in a lifetime I think, but it is a comforting thing to us to know that we have them around. And I love how, even just recently, my level of reading has overtaken the amount of TV watching in my house. It has been a new discipline for me, but one I am enjoying very much. And you asked for a short list, how hard! But I’ll give it a try…

My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers

Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis (others by the author… Surprised by Joy, and of course, The Chronicles of Narnia touched my life just a few years ago in my first reading, and I’ve read them several times since… the imagery, the magical display of God’s power in metaphor can be overwhelming; one such time here)

The Spirit of the Disciplines by Richard Foster and Dallas Willard

The Divine Conspiracy by Dallas Willard (just now working through his book, Renovation of the Heart)

The God Bearing Life by Kenda Creasy Dean and Ron Foster (this book changed the course of youth ministry for me)

The Moral Vision of the New Testament by Richard B. Hays (read this in Seminary the first time; an intersection where Present moral issues meet the New Testament)

The Life You’ve Always Wanted by John Ortberg (and another by him… If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got To Get Out of the Boat)

Grace Based Parenting by Dr. Tim Kimmel

Children Matter by Scottie May (about children in community, faith or otherwise)

The Shack by Wm. Paul Young (it made me think even if I don’t agree with all the imagery)

As for fiction writers…

Jan Karon, her Mitford Series and now, the Father Tim Novels (excellent story telling mostly just about every day life… it is like a retreat for me! And I even have her cookbook filled with recipes based on the stories!)

Neta Jackson, her YadaYada Prayer Group series changed how I pray. For a set of novels, the character development and themes of compassion, prayer and sacrifice are all very compelling

Brock and Bodie Thoene, most especially their latest series AD Chronicles. They use the Gospel accounts from the Bible, weaving fictional characters in and throughout to make the story of Jesus come to life.

Okay, so that wasn’t so short. I just can’t help myself.

2010-03-19T10:52:00.000-07:00

Three days to the Big Reveal, when I'll be able to introduce you to my partner for the Open Adoption Bloggers Interview Project. See you Monday!

2010-03-15T06:40:00.001-07:00

I've struggled with what to write today. I know I don't have to write anything, but I want to. I have posts in my head that I am eager to write, but it just doesn't seem to be their time yet.

And the thing that is on my heart doesn't seem to be something that I can write about either. Though I want to, wisdom dictates that I do not.

Last night our family watched Prince Caspian, the second Narnia movie. I want to write about the way it stirred me, about the truths presented and what I felt as I watched it, but I can't seem to come up with the words to do that either.

So, I'm left with this:

The LORD is a warrior;
the LORD is his name. Exodus 15:3

That's it. That's the thing I'm hanging my hat on today. He is mighty, he goes before me, and he is a warrior.

I don't know if that does anything for you or not, but today it's doing my troubled heart some good.

Adoption Language Part 1

2010-03-12T04:10:00.001-08:00

When we adopted our daughter five yeas ago, I eagerly read through all the information our agency provided to prospective adoptive parents. While my parents had already provided an excellent model for talking about adoption and for parenting in general, I still poured over every piece of paper in the folder. Included was an article about adoption language, with a list of words and phrase to avoid and suggested replacements. I became extremely conscientious about using the language suggested. After all, as an adoptee I knew first-hand that my attitude toward and understanding of adoption would have a profound impact on my daughter -- and in love I wanted to do this thing right.

I began using more of the "correct" language to discuss my own adoption. No longer had my mother given me up. Instead, she'd made an adoption plan. Of course I wouldn't consider the term natural mother, because after all, wouldn't that suggest that my mom (amom) was un-natural, like some kind of eight-headed alien? And as far as being adopted? Well, I held fiercely to the newly discovered truth that I was adopted, as opposed to am adopted. Adoption was nothing more than the manner in which I entered my family. (More to come on that later.)

Lately though, it's been becoming clearer to me that much of this suggested language does not reflect the realities of those living out adoption. I think the kicker for me was when I read that the proper term for looking for them should not be to "find parents" but to "search for birthparents". While I might be more likely to use the language suggested, I really really don't like being told how define my own experience. (Or lack thereof, but we'll see...)

Maybe it's a rebellion issue. Maybe I simply don't like being told what to do, and when someone tries, a little of that inner-Xena rises to the surface, complete with her kick-hiney boots and leather bustier and more than ready for a fight. Or maybe it's more like a little alarm bell going off, which, when you have a carefully constructed understanding of your reality, can be more than a bit disconcerting.

In any case, what happens when I think I might just post on some of these thought? Amanda over at The Declassified Adoptee beats me to the punch, and writes a much better-researched post than I ever would have. (Click here to read her post in its entirety. Go on now...it will be well worth your time.)

As I read, a funny thing happened when I got to about here:

Is the term "Adoption plan" yet another device to silence adoptee and First Mother pain? No longer are we permitted to have "abandonment issues," we must now label them as "adoption plan issues?" I can't imagine that leaning over the bassinet of a newborn destined for adoption, who is crying for the mother whose heartbeat he has memorized, and offering "she made an adoption plan" as consolation would make much of a difference. A fellow advocate Joy once commented on her blog: "If we had words in infancy, many of us wouldn't be calling ourselves adoptees today."

I started crying. Yep. I pictured myself trying to scream, "Mommy, don't go!", and the tears just flowed and flowed. (Admittedly, some adoptee fantasy issues came into play here, but what's the daughter of a fairy princess to do?) It's hard to reconcile this strange grief with the very real and deep love I have for the woman I call mom. I'll often say I have two mothers; it's a concept I'm very comfortable with. Still, saying it and experiencing the emotions it evokes are two very different things, and beneath the tears was sense that I was somehow being disloyal. Even typing all this out feels a bit that way, though I really do know better.

The intensity of my emotions and the immediacy of my reaction also took me by surprise. This has been happening to me with increasing frequency in the past few weeks. Things that seem minor or insignificant bring tears, to the point where it's actually funny. I might post more about that later, or I might not, but my hunch is that God is trying to bring some deep things to the surface, and I have to say I really don't like it very much at all. It's uncomfortable and scary and sometimes makes me feel downright silly. I know I can trust him, but that doesn't mean I'm going to like the process. (OK, skimming through this post to edit I just re-read the quote and guess what -- eyes welled right up. Yeah, there's something going on here. Oh, this is going to be sooooo much fun.)

I've meandered more than I thought I would, and I think I'm finished for now. Before I go I will tell you that I am VERY excited about my partner for the Interview Project and can't wait to introduce her to you. I think you'll enjoy her wisdom and her honesty, but that's all you're getting about that until later this month. Below I've included one agency's list of positive adoption language. Anything here you agree with? Anything you change if you could?

Rather than......We suggest:
Real parent(s), Bioligical parent(s), Natural parent(s).........Birthparent(s), Birthmother,Birthfather

Unwed mother.............Single parent
Real child............Birthchild
Illegitimate child...............Child ofunmarried parents
Put up for adoption...........Make an adoption plan
Give up for adoption.............Choose adoption
Is adopted..............Was adopted
Keep a child.............Parent a child
Hard to place child..........Child with special placement needs
Unwanted pregnancy..........Unplanned, unintended, or untimely pregnancy
Find parents...........Search for birthparents
Foreign adoption...........Intercountry adoption
Adoptee.............Person who was adopted
“Gotcha Day”We suggest.........Family day or Adoption day

*Family Day is a less formal term preferred by some adoptive
families. It refers to the day when parents became a family by adopting achild or when the family was enlarged by the addition ofan adopted child.

Confessions of a disorganized adoptee

2010-03-09T05:35:00.000-08:00

Have you ever lost your car keys? It usually happens when you should have been out the door five minutes ago. You look in your purse, in that little pocket where they're supposed to be, only to find it empty. You reach into your purse and dig to the bottom, pulling out old receipts, tattered tissues, matchbox cars...and find nothing. If you're really desperate, you dump the whole thing out on the kitchen counter. (And still find nothing.) Panic sets in. You run to the mudroom closet and tug on coats, shoving your hands deep into pockets. A few coats slide off their hangers, but you step over them as you rush to your bedroom to search the pockets of yesterday's jeans.

Sound familiar?

If you're anything like me, you devise the perfect solution. You tell your children that at any time they can ask you where your keys are, and if said keys are not in that little pocket in your purse, you must pay said child a quarter. And if you're anything like me, you wind up doling out the cost of a new pair of Nike's in change.

Now imagine it's not your keys. Imagine it's something more important. What would it be? What would cause your heart to race if you could not immediately locate it? (Ooooh, I know! Pick me! Pick me!)

Your information.

Or rather, your INFORMATION -- three type-written pieces of paper that are your only connection to your birth family. Well, to be exact, only two of them are actually information about the family you were born to. The other gives your medical info, mainly stating that you had colic. This paper comprises all you know about your first eight weeks of life.

Think on it for moment. Three papers. Just three. That is the entirety of what I possess to tell me where and who I came from. The information given barely scratches the surface. I have height and weight info, nationality, hair colors, a few notes about their interests, but nothing of substance. Oh, there's hay fever. We pretty much all have hay fever. There are also three words that describe her. They are lovely words that leave me with more longing than I realized I had. I am temped to share, but for now at least I am keeping them just for me.

That's it. That's what nearly had me rummaging through every drawer in the house -- less info than you'd get from match-dot-com, all tied up with the traditional "They wanted her to have a stable, loving home. They could not provide this for her. They asked (agency) to find parents for her who would give her the home they felt she deserved" for a bow. But when it's all you have, well, it's all you have. And when it's all you have, you hang on tightly to each and every word.

So, yeah. This weekend I couldn't find it. Them. Whatever. I couldn't find my information. And I'm tellin' ya what, I was in a bit of a panic. I don't want to go overboard here, it wasn't awful. Still, as I searched through the manila envelope that sits on the back shelf of my closet and found it lacking three very specific pieces of paper, my heart picked up its pace and my breathing sped up. The thing is, it wasn't even a big deal. I mean, I just wanted to look at it. I didn't actually need it. Plus, I knew it wasn't' really lost, just...misplaced. But there I stood, speaking to myself in that gentle tone a mother uses with a frightened child. It's OK. The papers are somewhere in the house. You'll find them, don't worry. They aren't really lost.

All of this is awfully personal, so why on earth am I sitting here telling perfect strangers that I stand in my closet and talk to myself? Simply this: people need to know.

Those who describe adoption only as beautiful and claim it as their "passion" need to understand that there is more to this experience than their particular part of it. They need to walk into my closet and hold my trembling hands, hear the strained pitch of my voice. They need to honor my right to mourn what I've lost and to walk through this thing with all the emotions it entails. And for heaven's sake, they need to stop telling me how wonderful it all is.

I'm not saying there's no beauty. I've experienced much of it myself. But where beauty exists, it's beauty for ashes. Please, quit trying to sweep my ashes away. They're mine, they're real, and some of them are still hot enough to burn.

2010-03-05T06:09:00.000-08:00

Notice anything different? You do? Oh, good. Do you like it?

I do, though it won't stay on forever. I actually find these playlists somewhat distracting. Sometimes when I'm on late at night, and the house is finally quiet, I find them a bit annoying.

But this..........ahhhhhh........... This is so beautiful it makes me weep. Yep, I'm that crazy girl sitting behind a laptop, one hand in the air, tears streaming down her cheeks. And this is my gift to you, a little moment of peace, truth, and refreshment in a broken world.

I am fasting right now. Our church is doing a corporate fast until Easter. It's a bit like giving up something for lent, if you're familiar with that. Don't fret, it's not mandatory, and we're each choosing our own fasts. We are doing it with the idea of giving up something we indulge ourselves in, desiring instead to seek intimacy with the Lord. This is to be between the person fasting and God, so in bringing it here all I really want to do is share -- not complain or lift myself up at all.

I'm doing a type of Daniel fast, as well as fasting from much of my computer time. I'm supposed to be only writing posts, with the exception of participating in the Interview Project. It should be obvious that I am learning how difficult it is to keep my word. If you see me posting on your blog this month, (as I already have this morning...sigh) a gentle reminder would be welcomed. This is surprisingly difficult for me.

Yesterday, I was hungry. I mean, I was really, really hungry. I have more jumbled thoughts on this, part of which is a renewed compassion for those who are actually hungry -- who's children are hungry. Hunger hurts. I could have opened my fridge or cupboard at any time, and been full. I cannot imagine what it is to go hungry......

"Come, all who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy, and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk,
without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to me;
hear me, that your soul may live." Isaiah 55:1-3

So, I am fasting that I might eat what is good.

One last thought before I go. As I listen to this first song, I am reminded that there were people who actually walked with, spoke with, and touched Jesus. One woman was so overwhelmed with love and gratitude that she washed his feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. In the manner common to that society, some reclined against him as they ate. As I listen, I can't help but picture myself doing the same...and the tears come.

I heart you

2010-03-02T04:31:00.000-08:00

This morning I am pressed for time. I'm just going to whip this out. It'll be a little rough, I'm sure, but I'm going to try do say it anyway.

What I want, is to share a bit of my heart with you. I want you to know why I'm here, writing about adoption; writing in ways you might not always like.

I don't hate adoption. I don't. I have a beautiful daughter through adoption. I have fantastic parents through adoption. I have dearly loved nieces and nephews through adoption. My everyday life is characterised by lots and lots and lots of joy. (Also, lots and lots and lots of mess...but I think that's a homeschooling post.) I know adoptive parents (Yes, all parents, I know, and sadly not all parents...but I'm writing quickly!) love their kids to the tips of their toes, and I'm not here to try to take that from anyone. Heaven forbid that you ever read anything I've written and think I'm trying to tell you not to rejoice in your children. If that's what you "hear", read it again. I will never tell you not to lavish your kiddos with love, or not to take joy in them.

But, there's more to it than that.

So, I guess that's why I'm here -- the more.

And some of the more is ick. Some of it's pain. Some is misunderstanding. Some is commonly accepted practices that hurt expecting moms. Some is pointing out that when we hurt a child's mom, we hurt that child. There are just so many layers. It's like a giant onion, and we just keep peeling away, because frankly, it's the more that too often gets forgotten, swept under the rug, or is never mentioned at all. And to all the adoptive parents who desire to be the very best mom or dad they can, I simply say you have to get to a place where you can see the more.

Sigh.

So there it is in a very quick nutshell. I've left out about five-thousand-and-one important things, so if you're sitting there saying, "Yeah, but..." to your computer screen, I'll probably get to that eventually. If you don't like what you read here, if it makes you uncomfortable or you just don't get it, well....keep reading anyway. Keep slogging through. I'm not against you. I just really, really want people to see more than their own small piece of the equation. If I get a little passionate, just remember that I have a bit of affection for battle imagery. (Yes, I like Xena. Laugh if you must) At the very least you'll be able to picture me in a cape, and that in itself should put a smile on your face.

Ethical practices

2010-02-26T15:31:00.000-08:00

In my last post, I wrote about finding a site devoted entirely to "Dear Birthmother Letters". I realize not everyone may understand why this site was upsetting to me.

In answer to that, I'd like to direct you to this post at In His Easy Yoke. Jenni does an excellent job discussing ethics issues relating to profile books and letters to expectant moms. While her line of thinking may be new to you, I believe wholeheartedly that what she has to say on this topic is extremely important in moving the adoption industry toward more ethical practices, something that should important to all members of the triad. My hope is that you will read her post, even if you think it is the very last thing you want to read.

As I've said, I enjoy honest dialogue about adoption. I want more than fluff. I like the nitty-gritty, meaty conversations -- seeing things from someone else's point of view, or being pushed for more clarification on why I think what I think. These are the things that have helped me to grow, and to process my own thoughts and feelings about adoption. It's been a blessing to me. I think it can be a blessing to you, too.

So are you ready for some meat? Then pull up a comfy seat, grab a nice warm drink (there's snow outside my window...brrrr), settle in and click on the link.

Welcome to the conversation.

Dear WHAT?

2010-02-25T07:25:00.000-08:00

I may be ill.

Sorry, I don't mean to be offensive. I'm just a bit.....taken aback. I just came across a site devoted to "Dear Birthmother" letters, and I'm muddling through my thoughts on it.

First, there's the whole issue that the women they're writing to aren't birth mothers yet.

Second, though I do not "hate" adoption, (or adoptive parents, or people wanting to adopt), this just feels wrong. Surely there is a fine line, somewhere, between being willing, even desiring, to parent a baby who is truly in need, and marketing one's self in an attempt to sway the mind and emotions of a woman who is in the grip of crisis.

Surely, we need to do better job finding that line.

And you thought YOU were strange

2010-02-22T12:26:00.000-08:00

"So what's it like?" She stares at me, her forehead creasing with her question, her upper lip lifting slightly on one side.

I wait for it. I know what's coming.

She leans in a little. "Isn't it, you know, weird?"

Um, no. Thanks though.

I smile. I take a breath. This is just one of those things people sometimes say when they find out I was adopted. I know this from forty years of experience. I answer graciously. I explain that this is the only life I've ever known -- that it's my normal. I'm very good at explaining. I've had lots of practice.

She smiles and nods, but she clearly doesn't get it. She still thinks it's weird.

Of course, the conversations don't always go like this. Now that I'm, uh, older, my peers tend to be exhibit a bit more self-control with their responses than when we were all younger, and with the increase in international adoptions, more and more people know someone who has adopted. In that case I might get an, "Oh! I know someone who...", sometimes followed by a dreamy, "Isn't it wonderful?" Well, yes. And no. Maybe we're better off just sticking with weird.

I don't know, maybe it is kind of weird. I mean, when was the last time you scrolled through profile pictures of complete strangers on facebook (pages and pages), wondering if any of the women resembled you, simply because you came across an adoption group that was likely to include moms who have relinquished?

And when was the last time you were in the city where you were born and went out to eat, or to the mall, or to to the grocery story, and thought, I wonder if she's here, and actually looked?

When was the last time someone asked you if you were related to so-and-so because, by gosh, you looked just like 'em, and you wistfully wondered if maybe you were?

No? OK, maybe it is a little bizarre. But it's normal to me, and if I'm OK with it that's all that really matters, right?

So what's it like?

It's absolutely no big deal.

It's utterly huge.

Yeah, it's kind of like that.

Yes, it is, actually

2010-02-19T10:04:00.000-08:00

I frequent an adoption forum. To say I frequent it is actually a bit of an understatement. I'm there...a lot.

We've been discussing the ugliness of adoption. Oh, not adoption itself (necessarily)-- but the painful parts that go hand in hand with it.

Unfortunately not everyone in the adoption community wants to hear this truth. They balk against this word, this description of adoption, at its core, (that which preceded it and caused it to be a necessity) as "ugly".

This is my response to them -- my heartfelt plea that they will open their ears and their hearts to something more than their personal joy.

Loss HAS to occur before adoption can take place. Why can't we acknowledge that that blows?

A child loses a family. Maybe it's best. But, if it is best, then that child has lost what could have been...what should have been.

If a child has suffered abuse, they have lost their innocence. They have lost the protection and care that should have been theirs. That is ugly!

If a mother, by her own volition, chooses to place her child in belief that it is best, she might be right ...but she has lost the child who grew in her womb. That is ugly! (would people feel better substituting "tragic"?) The child loses the woman she grew in. A newborn will quiet at the mother's voice and turn to her, yet this first relationship is lost to the adopted child. We know that even babies react to this loss. We should be saddened by that!

If a mother chooses to place because she does not want to parent..that is ugly! Am I saying she is awful, or invalidating her choice? No. But every child deserves to wanted, and there is ugliness (deep hurt) in not being wanted.

If a child in a distant country is in great need of a family because his parents have perished in war, or from AIDS, or starvation, or any of the many things that claim life, that new family can a blessed, beautiful thing for that child. But, oh, the heartache of the loss that preceded it! The tragedy of the thing that made that new family a necessity! It's ugly. It's tragic. It hurts, and it should hurt those in the adoption community. We should grieve that situation, even as we rejoice that the child will now receive the love and care he needs.

Saying adoption is ugly at its core is not saying adoption is a bad, horrid, awful, ugly thing. It is just acknowledging that the joy we feel in parenting our adopted children is able to occur only because of a very difficult reality that preceded them coming to us. It is recognizing deeply in our hearts that something raw, tragic, and ugly did happen. That it's part of our child's story. That it's part of our family's story. It's love for our kids that says, "Yes, I rejoice in you, but I do not only rejoice. I grieve what you have lost. I grieve what those who also love you have lost. I grieve what you may have suffered before you came to me. In my deep love for you, I acknowledge that there is pain mingled with the beauty."

Does it mean we walk in that pain every day? Whew, I hope not! I don't think that would be healthy.

We just...acknowledge it. It's there. We don't make adoption into rainbows and fluff because we see further than our own hearts. We see it in its fullness.

Do you see? Can you see? Will you see?

2010-02-01T05:16:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting at my kitchen table. My oldest son has left for school; my youngest three are still asleep on my bedroom floor. My house is blissfully quiet.

And I have nothing to say. (Yep, I know I shouldn't start a sentence with "and". It's a blog, and I don't care.)

Lalala...whistle....looking around....

I'm amazed that my kids want to sleep in my room so consistently. My husband is traveling, and all four of them have been in my room each night. They're often in there even when he's home. They spent an entire summer sleeping either in our room or together in one of their rooms. Guess we didn't need to build a house with all these bedrooms.

I'm thinking we weren't made to be alone. I know, it's not an original thought, but it's true and it's worth repeating.

One son is up, wrapped in quilt and ready for a snuggle...and now my daughter is up.

So much for being alone!

2009-12-28T08:37:00.000-08:00

Our Christmas festivities have officially ended, my house is relatively clean, and I'm intent on staying in may jammies as long as possible today.

Does Christmas whoop the tar of anyone else?

This isn't how I want it to be. Each year I long for a cozy, relaxed Christmas; music playing quietly in the back ground, the soft glow of the fire, the sounds of laughter as my children enjoy their new treasures. I long for to the time to prepare my heart to celebrate the birth of my savior, and to really experience the joy and peace that come from meditating on the fact that he is GOD WITH US. Yet every year my husband and I end up hurried, stressed, and ultimately exhausted.

Friends, this is not why Jesus came.

This is not the yoke he was talking about.

Of course, every year my husband and I also say we will not do it this way again next year. Next year, if people want to see us they can come here, by golly. Yeah, guess what: when people come here I have to clean. A lot.

Be Mary, you say? Be Mary? Right, because she has chosen the better thing and it will not be taken from her. But...but...it's Christmas! I have to be Martha! Someone has to do the shopping and the cleaning and wrapping and planning and the cooking and the decorating and the cleaning and ...what? Oh, I already said cleaning? Well, I guess you know how I've spent the bulk of December then.

I don't mean to sound bitter. Of course I enjoyed the time spent with family. We usually go to my parents house Christmas day. This year my parents came here Christmas because they got the kids a Wii, and thought it would be more fun for them to be able to play it right away. I have to say, it was nice being home this year, and we had a lot fun playing the Wii together. Even Grampa and Gramma got into it and did a great job "bowling".

Maybe things weren't so crazy after all. Let's see...first of all I had very little shopping completed. Apparently, homeschooling moms can't shop during the days because THEIR KIDS ARE NOT AT SCHOOL! Most moms might realize this soon and try to shop on the weekends and evenings. I however, lost my flylady holiday notebook, as you might remember, and have the distinct inability to plan ahead without great effort. Without flylady holding my hand along the way I made precious little progress. (not to mention that most of my mental energy has been spent on homeschooling, and there didn't seem to be any room left in my brain for dealing with Christmas) Now all of this might have still worked out fine had my husband not traveled the entire week preceding Christmas. This, as you might know, is the time we procrastinators can really get a lot accomplished. But with kids home during the day, and no husband home in the evening...well...I was still shopping the Tuesday.

Wednesday we traveled about two hours to spend the night with my mother-in-law. We came home Thursday in time to do our traditional fondue dinner before heading out to church at 6:30 for the Christmas Eve service. Home around 8:30, we relaxed for about a hour, put kids to bed later than we would have liked, and wrapped the remaining items (which were almost everything). Fell into bed, up at 7:00, morning was relaxing, then clean up and work on food a bit, parents arrived late afternoon, fun evening, parents spent the night and left around noon, most of Saturday spent cleaning and preparing for family party on Sunday, shopping in the evening for cousin gifts I hadn't picked up earlier, bed at 11:30, up at 5am because I had to sing at church and had to be there by 7, home at 12:30, mad cleaning/preparing session, cousins arrive at 2:00, people stay until 7:30. We crash on the couch. We've survived another Christmas.

Is this normal? Is our schedule crazy, or are we selfish for wishing things were less hectic? How do you handle the holidays?

Did I mention our tree sat there for two weeks with nothing but lights and was decorated only last Saturday? Harrumph.

You know, right now all four of my kids are downstairs playing pretty nicely. My golden retriever is snoozing away and those lights on the tree are still twinkling. I think I'm going to sit here and soak in the peace. Maybe Christmas isn't going to pass me by after all.

A reason to rejoice

2009-12-25T08:52:00.000-08:00

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

Merry Christmas!

In pursuit of Christmas

2009-12-23T05:23:00.000-08:00

I simply MUST get myself into the Christmas spirit. Or maybe more precisely, I must get the Christmas spirit into me.

I am behind this year. For starters, I cannot find my wonderful Flylady holiday noteboook -- the one thing that has actually kept me sane during the holidays the last few years. I suppose I could have begun a new one, but then it wouldn't have been "perfect"....hmm, maybe I need to read a little Flylady wisdom again. Seems she's mentioned something about how perfectionism stops us in our tracks. (If you want to check her out, try http://www.flylady.net/)

On top of that, I'm concerned about many governmental issues, not only the healthcare proposals, but the direction our nation is headed in general, and it is absolutely consuming my thoughts.

Not real conducive to cheery Christmas heart, is it.

Why do I worry so? Really, why? I mean, Jesus flat out said we would have troubles here. Period. But he said not to let my heart be troubled. He has overcome the world!

That is what I'm going to cling to.

He is the coming King. Glory!

Oh, Nebraska

2009-12-21T07:14:00.000-08:00

While we were sleeping the Senate passed its test vote for the healthcare bill. Sen. Nelson became the 60th vote, and the rest of us could get to foot the bill for Nebraska's Medicaid. Nice.

I'll keep my freedom, thank you very much

2009-12-19T05:54:00.000-08:00

Freedom is a beautiful thing. The anger I feel when my freedom is threatened is not. Unfortunately, that seems to be happening more and more in our current political climate.

Last night my husband walked in the door and set the paper on the coffee table, and an article caught my eye. The writer "wondered" if lenient homeschool laws in my state had contributed to child abuse in a highly publicized local case.

How does an opinion piece wind up on the front page as news? I am furious! More than that, I'm scared. The last thing I want is for the government to insert itself into my family through more stringent laws for homeschooling. The freedom we are enjoying is beautiful. The fact that I do not have to report in to an official means I can explore and embrace a wide variety of educational philosophies, something I could not do if I were tied to standardized testing performance or mandates on instruction time or specific curricula.

Don't misunderstand me. The situation was quite tragic, and people are understandably saddened and upset. However, it's quite a leap to place the blame on laws governing homeschoolers. Moreover, the writer seems to be contenting that the overriding role of public schools and government in general is to protect children from their parents.

That should frighten all of us.

Getting there

2009-12-06T07:19:00.000-08:00

Hmm. I haven't exactly blogged like wildfire have I? We're three weeks from Christmas, my last post was in June, and the months in between have been full of transition. But as they say, it's all good.

Our big change is that this year we decided to homeschool our three youngest children. It's something God had been tapping my shoulder about for the last several years; one of those things I felt tugging at my heart but wasn't quite courageous enough to try. This summer I really researched it and my husband and I decided we would give it a try. Our oldest is a 10th grader this year, and would be hard pressed to come home for his learning and thus abandon the football and basketball teams. We've been in high school. We get that and support his decision, although there is a huge part of me that would love to see him try homeschooling. Our 5th grader, 3rd grader, and Kindergartner, however, are now learning at home. And you know what? I think we love it. But, the transition hasn't been so easy.

The first many weeks (ok, months) were extremely difficult. I tried to do to much. They were uncooperative. We were all exhausted. I yelled. They cried. I dropped my sword and forgot I even had a crown. I become depressed and distant from my Daddy. It wasn't pretty. Thankfully, my Father is good and used a few folks who listen to him to encourage me, (and to pray for me, I'm sure) and we are now settling in nicely.

The biggest change in our home has come in the form of peace. For starters, my children are getting along much better than ever before. It is such a joy to see my 10, 8, and 5 year olds all playing together nicely! Of course there are still squabbles, but these days they are much fewer and much less intense. Is it the fact that they only have eachother during the days, and so, if they want a playmates, must turn to one another? Is it that they are no longer exhausted from a long school day? Is it a benefit of learning in a fairly quiet, relaxed atmosphere, or maybe that when disputes do occur I am right there to correct and redirect their behavior? I don't know exactly what has worked this magic, but it sure is nice!

Our nights are also much more peaceful than they were when the kids were attending school. No longer do we have to rush to eat dinner, complete homework, sign papers, load the backpacks, choose tomorrow's clothes (do a last minute load of laundry), prepare lunches, (Ok, we didn't actually pack lunches. We always started the year trying to make lunches, then ended up just buying them.), and struggle to get everyone to bed on time so they will be rested enough to do it all again the next day. It's amazing how enjoyable the evenings can be without these added pressures, and when the kids aren't whining because, "I haven't even gotten to plaaaaay today!" Who ever thought long pressure-filled days benefited little minds and spirits? Who decided this for our families?

Peace.

Ahhhh, drink it in. It's good, isn't it. I didn't know this was where I was heading when I began writing today, but it's nearly Christmas, and I suppose nothing could be more appropriate. I didn't know this was where our family was heading either, but I'm grateful for it. But God is the author of peace. (1Cor. 14:33) Why, then, am I surprised that peace would be one benefit of something he led me to?

changes

2009-06-05T12:48:00.000-07:00

I don't take change very well. Changes, even good ones, are very stressful for me. For days now I've been weepy. Last night I was in the car asking, "Lord, what's going on? What am I sad about?" I think I finally figured it out.

Today is the last day of school. I am sooooo happy to have my kids home for the summer! Hopefully we can enjoy some lazy days just being together as a family. School takes so much of our time.

Anyway, I don't think I'm sad, I think it's just the change. It's the end of the year, time to say goodbye to teachers we've come to care for and to adjust to a new summertime routine, and while I think it a very good change, one I'm really excited about, it's still a change. And yeah, I'm not so good with those.

Plus, there's this little nagging voice in my head telling me it's one more year finished, one more year of their little lives over. The time with them is too short. They grow too quickly and I want to hang onto them. Which is why I'm glad school is ending...which is why I'm sad...are you rolling your eyes with me yet? Feel free.

In any case, I'm off to grab the chalk write some big "Welcome Home" notes on the driveway. I want them to know how happy I am to have them home for the summer!

It makes me wonder, and this question may not be at all theologically sound, but do you think that when we get to heaven God is going to just be so happy to see us?

Amazing blog

2009-05-30T06:53:00.000-07:00

Being new to blogging, I've been doing a bit of "research". To put it plainly, I've been reading a lot of blogs. Last night I stumbled on one that took my breath away.

Princess imagery obviously speaks to my heart, and I'm sure you've figured out it's the warrior princesses I like the most. Laugh if you want to, but I love the stories of courageous women who don't just watch the battle from their protected place in the tower, but instead participate in it and play an important role. (And if they get to wear a way-cool medieval dress, all the better.)Think Eowyn wielding her sword against the Witch King in the second "Lord of the Rings" movie, or Susan raising her bow in the "Narnia" movies. These are the images that give me chills, that make me say, "Oh, I want to be that."

But that's all they are. Images. Pictures that show us a deeper reality (we do have an enemy, Satan exists and is bent on our destruction), and that give us a some idea of what it means to be valiant and strong.

Here's the thing though. In our lives, most of the time, this isn't what battle looks like.

For one thing, I don't even own a sword, or a bow for that matter. Now, my husband did teach me how to chop wood with the axe a few weeks ago, and I thought it was fantastic, but that's a story for another day. The thing is, I just don't have many opportunities to slay evil creatures with my skirts swirling around my legs and my hair blowing in the wind. Oh, that I did......but I don't. So what do I do with this passionate desire to be like Susan? What does that mean in my life? How do you and I step into the battle?

Which brings me to the blog I read last night. At http://audreycaroline.blogspot.com/, Angie Smith shares her heart and gives us an real-life example of what it means to follow Christ. The depth of her love for God, even in the face of devastating loss, is both inspiring and convicting. I won't tell her story here because it's not mine to tell, and because Angie tells it so beautifully. Some parts of it are very, very hard, but despite that, hers is not a sad blog, and here's why: Angie is a princess too.

See, since she calls Jesus "savior", she can also call God "Father". How cool is that?

And so, instead of her blog being sad, (though it did make me weep), it's really mostly about hope, about what it means to have abiding faith, and about the deep conviction that no matter what this life brings us, God is still seated on his throne, and he is still worthy of praise. She knows who he is, and that changes everything.

The truth is, our battles rarely look like the ones in the movies, and our victories often look a lot like surrender in the eyes of the world. Sometimes victory is simply continuing to turn to God even in the midst of suffering, despite our inability to understand why he has not moved in the way we had hoped.

Yeah, yeah, I know. I like the princess stuff. But when I read Angie's words, when her faith and her devotion to the Lord flow off the screen and make me yearn to love my God even more deeply, I really do think, "Oh, I want to be that."

2009-05-29T08:48:00.000-07:00

This morning I was truly treated like royalty. My nine year old son brought me breakfast in bed.

(And no, that's not my bedroom. That's the DeBurgo bedroom at Cloghan Castle in Ireland. If you want to see more go to http://www.cloghancastle.com/ Ahhhh...so beautiful. Does that make your heart flutter like it does mine? As I sat here with my four year old daughter on my lap looking for just the right picture, I couldn't help but laugh and say, "Ohhhh, I really want to be a princess. I reeeeally want to live in a castle!")

Now where was I? My son, right. So, he brought me a mug of hot coffee with flavored creamer, a bowl of cereal, and a pretty candle which he placed on the stand next to my bed. Then he said, "There's still one more thing," and climbed into bed with me. I'm one lucky mom.

Then he asked, "Which gift do you think is the best?" As delighted as I was that my rambunctious son thought to honor me with such a special treat, I'm sure you won't be surprised to know that hands down, the best gift was the gift of his presence. I told him so, and he snuggled closer to me, obviously happy with my answer.

It's so easy to see when it's my child. Of course being with him was the best part! But what about when it comes to my Father in heaven? Do I see the gift of His presence as the very best gift of all in my life? Do you? We are so lucky to be living in the time when the Spirit of God now dwells in the hearts of men. He is with us. I really need that to sink in.

And in the meantime, I'm going to enjoy all the little boy snuggles I can get.

Blogging

2009-05-27T12:18:00.000-07:00

Blogging? Me?? Well I didn't see this coming.

Yet here I am.

Let me make a little confession. The blog has actually been up for a few days, I just haven't written on it yet. To be honest, it's really not ready. I have some things I want added to the side. I haven't written my "About Me" information yet. There is still much to be done! I want a beautiful blog, a pretty header with scrolling letters, maybe a picture or two. But my husband recently put my pictures on a new hard drive (which was completely necessary), and I can't figure out how to get to them. And as for fonts, my choices are a bit limited. So, I haven't been writing because the blog isn't perfect yet.

I'm guessing this longing for perfection and for beauty is likely about something far more important than having a pretty blog. I'm also guessing that if this longing is set so deeply in my heart, it's likely in yours too, set there by the One who created us. My blog may never be all I want it to be, but thankfully, that is not where true beauty lies anyway.