Temper Tantrums

When I was a little girl, I threw a fit right in the middle of the mall.  It was a full out temper tantrum with tears and whining and fully embarrassing my parents.  I was a fighter, and I wanted a book.  My heart was broke.  It was just a book. 

The depth of my heartache right now is beyond anything little teenage me could even begin to understand, and it would fill the pages of any book I could write.  The love a mom has for her children begins to grow the minute she discovers she is carrying a baby.  It’s a love that is so strong you would lay down your life just to see your child smile. 

In December, we signed our first papers on our second adoption.  The love I am only beginning to understand for my children is so strong that it refuses to tire.  I fight for them daily.  I call out to God on their behalf, hourly… and sometimes more.  Just the thought of their beautiful faces takes my breath away, and when I think of them in Ethiopia without me there to hold them, my heart breaks. 

I know she is crying.  She expected us to come just days after her 15^th birthday.  That’s the way it is supposed to work.  Do an insane amount of paperwork, turn it in, wait.  You have a BRI (Birth Relative Interview), you submit to PAIR to prove that your children are truly orphans, and then you wait some more.  You do another BRI, complete your investigation on your children, receive a PAIR letter and then a MOWCYA (Ministry of Women, Children and Youth Affairs) letter, and then you go jump on a big plane… all in a week. 

That is the plan. 

That is not our story. 

I am not on a plane. 

I am not holding my son and daughter. 

I am sitting alone in the mountains crying out to my God who promises me that if I trust Him, He will far exceed my expectations.   

I’m waiting. 

Waiting for a phone call… every day for the last two week. 

Waiting for the tears to stop falling down my cheeks.

Waiting for God to hear the crack in my voice as I cry out to Him. 

   GOD!!! Can you hear me!?! 

   Are they still crying out to You?  Do You hear them?

   Do they still trust You? 

   Are they loosing hope that their turn to be part of a family is slipping away?

   God!  Do you hear us???  

   Are our voices loud enough to reach You in this noisy world?

You wouldn’t stay away at a time such as this, right? Not the God I know!  He draws so near that I can feel His breath on my skin, but my strength is running out.  Adoption is not for the faint of heart! I feel defeated and weak and struggling to live out the holy discontent that resides in my soul… defend the orphan!  Be their voice.  Plead their case.  I am unable to do anything more than draw near to You, and expect You to be my strength.

I will fight for those two orphans until the day You set them in our family, under my roof, and held tightly in my arms.  I will fight for them when they loose hope. I will not let my heartache pull me anywhere but straight into Your loving arms. 

Even in the midst of my spiritual temper tantrums, Father, I am crazy about You.  I know You love them more than I do.  You know my heart. Even when I was just a little girl, You created in me a fire to fight for what I want.  It may have come out as a whine in the middle of the mall, but I’ve grown up.  At least a little, right? 

"Come close to God, and God will come close to you.”  James 4:8a

Better Than Update Day!

For 30 days a month… I wait.

It’s painful.

Yet, it also fills me with a level of anticipation that compares to little else.

I check my phone every time it bings in hopes that the email that just came through reveals the title “Monthly Update.”

That’s all I can hope for right now. I am invited to ask both of my Ethiopian kiddos 5 simple questions each month, and 30 long days later, they will send me their answers and an updated picture. Update day is my favorite day… for now.

But... every once in awhile, another adoptive parent will head over for court or embassy and then the real fun begins.  Last week was one of those weeks!  Two girlfriends headed to Ethiopia and took small care packages to our kids. For a couple days in a row, my phone would pop up new pictures of my sweet teens.

One after another.

The moms would write me funny stories that show how different my kids are.  My daughter was busy requesting a photo shoot with another little girl, but my son was protesting, saying they already took too many pictures of him. He told one friend, “my mom already knows what I look like!” 

They shared innocent words from my kids and heartbreaking messages about needing to comfort my daughter as she cried. She simply wanted to know when it would be her mom’s turn to come to Ethiopia. She wanted to know when she would get to hug her mom.

She is not the only one.

There is nothing I want more than to hold that little girl and her beautiful little brother. In order to do that, I still need a PAIR letter.  A simply letter that proves they are orphans and invites us to come to Ethiopia for court. For months we have had to wait for that letter. 

It. Is. Coming. Right?

Although one letter can’t seem to find its way to me, another one did.  Today, I opened up my mailbox to find a handwritten letter so full of the word LOVE it sounds like it was written by… well… a teenage girl!

A little piece of her full page letter… 

And it was!

The friend that had to comfort my daughter and wipe away her tears for me last week brought back to the states a letter from my daughter. It begins, “Dear my family.” What a powerful word for a 14-year-old orphan to write.  Family. 

Once a month, I get an update, but every day I have hope.  

This month… I pray for a PAIR letter. 

This month… I want to hold all 5 of my children in my arms.

This month… I dream of hearing my two favorite African voices call me “Mommy.”

Love

L = Little Hearts

There are three not-so-little kids living in this dysfunctional house of ours!  They are a blast to hang out with and funnier than I will ever be, but what I cannot seem to understand about them is where they get their big hearts.  They are little people with compassion and selflessness like I’ve never known.  Every ride to school, their sports or a lunch date begins with the same questions, “What’s the latest on my brother and sister?  What don’t I know?  Where are we at in the process today?” 

They write their siblings letters and draw them pictures to hang by their beds.  They draw “floor plans” for the rooms they will be sharing.  They write “I love you” five times on the same page, just so it doesn’t get overlooked.  Their little hearts are bigger than their bodies. 

O = Oceans Apart

New friends keep visiting the Transition House that our kids live in, and the best part is getting short messages sent to us from our kids.  We hear almost weekly that our kids love us.  Something about the distance of an ocean doesn’t seem quite so vast when a new message comes through.  Threads are being sewn between our hearts, even during this time when the ocean separates us.   

Little bits of love at a time!

Tie our hearts together. 

V = Valentine’s Day
Oh, how I wish I were allowed to share a few of the photos that we have together.  If I could just show you how Miss M constantly had to be hugging or touching me, or how Mr A liked to climb up on Lukas’ back and get a ride from a much higher view.  I know that if you could just flip through our Shutterfly book of our times together, you would feel the love that radiates out of everyone when we are together.  You can’t package that up like a heart shaped box full of chocolate, but something about picturing their waiting arms makes the word LOVE feel a whole lot stronger this Valentine’s Day. 

One of the first notes we received.

E = Everyone Can Make a Difference

We know that there are families out there that think what we are doing is amazing and inspiring – we hear that a lot and it helps my anxious heart; however, I actually appreciate it when people tell me that I’m out of my mind! Obviously, there is something a little crazy about an incredibly busy and involved family deciding to take on two more teenagers, but you cannot ignore an orphan once you know their name!  You can’t.  I can’t.  

The thing is… God doesn’t call all of us to adopt them.  He may ask you to sponsor, or take a mission trip, or dig a well or be a prayer warrior.  My prayer for the last month has been that my friends would surround us in three ways.


1.  Drown us in prayer!
I know you have been because every time I get a call or an email from our agency, we are blessed with great news.  If we were a normal family, we would still be working on our Home Study.  We aren’t normal.  I had our Home Study and Dossier done and mailed off in 17 days.  Our Dossier now sits in Ethiopia, we’ve been submitted to court, we have been submitted to PAIR, we have our Birth Family Interview at the end of the month and then we can head over ourselves and hug … not orphans… but OUR KIDS for the first time in five months. 

We know you are praying, and we thank God for you!! Please keep lifting us up!

2.  Participate in our adorable fundraiser!

My girlfriends are making me laugh because they have called this stage of mine “nesting.”  I couldn’t think of a better way to define it.  I agree.  I am surrounding myself in little art projects for what I hope to be our only fundraiser.  I know life pulls all of us in different directions and finances are important to every person, but if you are in a place in life that might allow you to share $10 or $100 … or whatever you have stuck in the couch… it would be a huge deal to us.   

Here’s how my “nesting” fundraiser works:

1     - Think of a number between 1-150.

2     - Tell me that you are taking that number.  I’ll take it down off my board. 

3     - Mail our family a check with the dollar amount of the number you choose
(#1 = $1, #24 = $24, #150 = #150… and so on).

4     - I’ll mail you the project that has that number on it and a picture of our new family as a Thank You.

              Sounds easy, right??  And you can stay in your sweats and hoodie!

3.  Pray for Miss M and Mr A to continue to trust Jesus with their future. 

As their mom, I want them to trust in me and know I’ll always make it better.  Sadly, I fall short, a lot, especially when I’m hungry or lacking coffee.  I don’t want them to put their faith in me.  I want them to remember what they have been taught in a song they sang with His Little Feet, “Our God is so great, so big and so mighty, there’s nothing our God cannot do.” 

Please ask God to be present and real to my son and daughter. 

As you celebrate Valentine’s Day today, please know that LOVE is so much more than hearts, chocolate and flowers.  

Love is…

 … “caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.”
 James 1:27

Didn't you already adopt once?

This is the short version of how we got here... again...

They say that God never does a miracle the same way twice.  I’m beginning to think they are wrong.  Whoever “they” are.

It’s not that He can’t… or has to.  I just think He can use any circumstances He wants to. 

Last time we adopted, we had tried for years to get pregnant only to loose the baby at 14 weeks.  Stubborn and determined, I told God He had a year to get me pregnant again or I’d be heading to Uganda to adopt a baby boy.  Somehow, a year later (to the date), we were starting our adoption process on Samantha, an orphan we offered to host for a week.  She was, well… twelve years old… a Russian… and a girl.  Not quite the same thing.

This time, we were not trying to get pregnant.  We had simply decided that we would host an Ethiopian orphan when they came to perform at our church.  Well, that little lady didn’t waste much time stealing my heart. 

On her first night at our house, she turned to me at bedtime and asked, “Auntie Shannon, will you be my mommy?”

Five little words sang out with a giggle and a look of hope in her eyes.  I laughed with her and sent her to bed.  The first stitch between her heart and mine was sewn that night.

“I will not leave you as orphans.  I will come to you.” 

John 14:18

Two days later, those three big kids of mine, were staring down their dad, waiting patiently for him to say we could adopt our two favorite Ethiopian orphans, the teenage girl we hosted and her little brother.  

Waiting for Dad to say he was on board. 

We were all on board and just waiting to make it official when “Oops!” happened!  We were not trying this time around, but we were incredibly excited and slightly unsure of what we would do with a baby in a house of big kids.  All we came up with was that it had to be a boy, he would be named after my dad, and he would have to play soccer.  We were deciding on room arrangements when we found out it was an ectopic pregnancy.  We lost our baby at 10 weeks.

With tears still wet in their eyes, the kids starting begging us to pick right back up with the adoption.  We needed to heal our hearts and our minds, but the answer was staring back at us every day.  God’s voice was clear. 

Then came her last request.  She wanted to have lunch with me one more time before they would leave to go back home.

After two months and a few dates, everything had changed.  We had just a couple minutes alone together before she needed to go back to her campus.  Her silly teasing question turned into a plea.  Holding on to me with both hands, she cried, “Auntie Shannon, I need you to be my mom!”  The tears were pouring down her cheeks and she was staring straight into my eyes.  My eyes filled quickly and I took her cheeks into my hands and reminded her that God has plans for her life, and that they will be good.

She tried another direction, “Can I come to your house?”
I questioned her, “To stay one more night?”

She rubbed her tears away and said, “No.  To stay all the nights.”

That was the last time we talked. 

Saying goodbye the first time.  She refused to let go. 

As we started our adoption process, they told us that they could not just ask the two of them if they wanted to be adopted by us.  If something fell through on our end, that would leave two kids broken hearted.  I would just have to wait and see if she would ask for us by name.  I knew her brother wouldn’t because he isn’t as outspoken as she is, so we put all our hope and faith in the voice of a 14 year old girl.  Everyone I love was praying that she would be bold, that she would use that voice of hers, and that she would make her wishes known to the right person.

A couple weeks later, during my morning devotion time, I was letting God know how my heart was aching for them.  I asked Him for a miracle and ended my journalling with the words, “Praying for them to be referred to us.”

God understands my inability to practice patience.  It was a couple hours later that I was told that she had been asking for me every day since they got back to Ethiopia! 

If I was sure we wanted to move forward with the adoption, they were ours! 

Our referral… was official.  

Admitting that I liked the idea of having 5 "almost" teenagers… was official. 

Clenching my jaw at the length of a calendar… was official.

I’m convinced that if God wants to use similar circumstances to bend our hearts towards His, He will.  If we choose to trust Him, He will show us again and again how much He loves His children.  

Part of my first love letter from my Ethiopian daughter. 

Prayer Requests:
- For our Ethiopian kids to know Christ, and trust God's plan.
- We have already been submitted to court, but we need a very special paper to be able to go.
- Prayers for our paperwork to be where it needs to be on time.
- Financial support and grants to be awarded to our family. 
- For the Ethiopian government to see the value of raising children in stable families verses the effects of growing up in an institution.  

10 Thoughts on the Past Year

If you are in a hurry, the worst thing you can do is ask me a question about my family and what our lives have been like this past year after adopting Samantha.  I don’t know why I loose my manners so quickly, but I do.  Every time. 

I thought the best way to summarize our YEAR ANNIVERSARY would be to highlight 10 of my favorite memories.  Keep in mind… they could change tomorrow. 

10. Watching miracles happen.
Trusting God through the adoption process was incredible.  Every time I needed a miracle, He showed up.  For our first trip, we were to leave on Saturday morning, way before the sun wakes up.  Only problem was that our passports hadn’t returned with our Visas from Russia.  Without them, we couldn’t go see that child I was dreaming of.  At the last second, on Friday afternoon at 4:50pm, the UPS man slams on his breaks in front of our house.  I cried and told him he was my hero.  He ran all the way back to his truck.  When I only had $1500 of the required $5000 to travel over to Russia for court, I got a phone call from a friend saying they had a check for $3500 with my name on it.  I ran that check straight to the agency and booked my flights!

It was like this throughout the entire process.  When I needed a miracle, God showed up and showered us with His blessings.  Every. Single. Time.

9. Dealing with silly nicknames. On the plane I was “Chicken,” Chad was “Gorilla” and Sam was “Lizard.”When she wants something, I hear “Beautiful mommy.”
 If she has too much energy, she speaks with an English accent and says, “Mama.” Right around 3:30 every day, she lovingly announces it time to get “The Monsters” from school.
And if I mention the things she calls her father, I’ll pay for a very long time…


8. Boundaries.It makes me laugh to even see that word in writing.  Honestly though, for a person that is used to making decisions based on survival, the word provides security.    


7. Balancing a social calendar.

In today’s society that trains children to depend on Facebook to define their friendships, I stand firm in believing that actual social interactions are the true foundation that friendship is built on.  While she is allowed the internet from 8-9pm, she also has actual “homework” of setting up dates with friends and learning to manage her social life.  When you come from an orphanage full of kids your age, you never have to think about sleepovers, catching a movie across town at a designated time, packing a bag the night before so that you can go straight from school to a friend’s house… or deciding between having enough cash to buy neon gloves for a dance or a Starbucks frap.

6. Homeschooling… while camping. I don’t know when in my life I became so stubborn, I’m guessing during my Terrible Twos.  When I decide I am going to do something, there really isn’t too much room for discussion.  Homeschooling for an hour a day was one of those things.  We got home from Russia, I went to Barnes and Nobel the next day, and I returned with homeschooling books for grades K, 1, 2, and 3.  I figured she’d understand one of them, and if we started simple, she would think it was easy and be willing to learn.  

We started with Kindergarten and worked together for an hour a night… even while camping.  There were nights she would growl at me, nights she would stare at the book like she expected it to start on fire, and nights when she crossed out words like “Chicken” and replaced it with “Mom” every time it appeared. 
To prove that miracles still exists, we worked our way straight through 3^rd grade by August... so we sent her off to 7^th grade and watched her soar through her first year of straight A’s.  Sadly, she can already do harder math than I her mom!

5. Parenting... a teenager.
If anyone ever tells you that adoption is easy, they are lying.  It’s still being a parent.  It’s still a child (or teenager) with a very unique personality… and a parent with a more defined one.  I feel guilty when I admit that I know ours has been the easiest, most natural transition I’ve heard of, but I know the love and energy that it took us this first year, and that there is plenty of learning still to come. 

One of the memories God hasn’t let me forget came from her 3^rd night at home.  As mentioned earlier, our children are allowed one hour of internet a day.  That time is only at the kitchen table.  Well, my little teenager thought she would try out those boundaries right away.  She had ended her time early, which was unheard of.  Slipped up to her room and went to bed.  After tucking her in and settling back into reading, I could hear her typing up in her room. 

I begged God to let me out of this one.  She was still new.  I still wanted her to like me.  I didn’t quite know what to do.  So I prayed harder.  I wrote the words, “Always kiss her goodnight” at the top of that page in my bible and took an unsteady step up towards her room.  My heart was racing as I took one stair at a time, stood at her door, then peeked in.  Odd… she was sound asleep, under her covers!  … except for the glow of the computer screen she quickly slapped closed and pushed deeper under the covers.  I sat on the bed, lifted the covers, and laid out my hand.  She looked so terrified. 
We spoke two words at a time then, so I said, “Computer?  Room?  NO!”  While 3000 words raced through my mind about the dangers of the internet, and how it was my job to protect this child while she was so unaware.  She handed me the computer, I set it down, took her little cheeks in my hands and said, “I love you.” And kissed her face a dozen times to prove it.  She smiled up at me and accepted her first punishment… no computer for 2 days.
4. Saying new words.

In Russia, she told our coordinator that it might be awhile until she was ready to call us “mom and dad.”  She explained that she hadn’t used those words in a very long time, and while it broke my heart to think that the mother-daughter relationship I had been hoping for might be off to a rocky start, I took a deep breath and acted like it meant nothing.  By that point in our journey, I was learning (not mastering) the art of patience.

It took a grand total of 4 days, and one clear display of rules, until she not only spoke, but YELLED, “MOM!!” from across the small house.  She said it with a laugh, but also a definite tone of certainty.  I was Mom.  And I cried.

 3. The moment at the airport.
Sometimes, brothers are brothers and sisters are sisters.  On those days when they are being really good at being siblings, all I have to do is take a look at the picture of us coming home from the airport and life is back in perspective.  We went out to celebrate her 1^st year last night, and we talked about our favorite things about each other, what's been easiest, what's been the hardest, our goals for the coming year.  Also, I asked everyone in the family to describe what they were thinking right before we walked out from the International gate.  The answers were priceless, and brought us all back to that moment very easily.  There are no words for that moment. 


2. Broken hearted conversations.
Maybe that sounds silly to confess to be one of my favorites of this past year, but when the snow falls just right, or the rain reminds her of an old memory, those have been the moments when she needed me to be mommy the most.  I would do anything to know all that is flooding through her mind, but each day I continue to trust that God is revealing as much as I need to know for the moment. 
 

1. Being deeper in love every day. Adoption.  Every child is different in a million ways.  But if there is one thing I know to be true, it is that every child wants to be loved.  With every ounce of my soul, I know I am the lucky one that gets to be part of three very sweet kids' stories... and yet... my mind doesn't rest knowing there are others waiting for their chance to be loved, to have a nickname, to learn boundaries, to have a really good brother or sister and to learn about the love of our God by experiencing it daily... 

... to be continued...