Cleaning Out the Closet

This past week I decided to clean out my closet. My decision was months overdue and was prompted by my desire to stop tripping on tubs of winter clothing sitting on my closet floor waiting to be hung up in hopes that cooler weather would soon appear.

One reason I have neglected this task is the emotional component I knew would be involved.

Over the past couple of years, (just before beginning our journey with infertility treatments) I embarked on a weight loss journey for myself as well as posterity’s sake. In the course of time, I have passed milestones, losing a little over 40 lbs to date. This obviously has necessitated new clothing, which I’ve purchased sparingly, waiting until I reach my final goal before I completely restore my wardrobe to its former glory.

Each time I dropped a size I slowly purged the contents of my closet, reserving a few, very specific pieces “just in case.” Now this was not the “just in case I need them again because my other clothes are tight” kind of hesitation. It was prompted out of hope, anticipation, that this month, any month could be “the month” and I would soon need those items again because my waistline was expanding with our long awaited child.

Sadly, our journey has not come to that end as of yet, so all I had hanging in my closet were a bunch of clothes that would once again go unworn and constantly remind me of what we have could have been. Each pair of pants a reminder of where we’ve gone. Shirts unwilling souvenirs of treatments and procedures, memories gained and subsequently lost.

As I cleaned I encountered a gamut of emotions. Grief swelled as I packed away the shirt I wore the Monday I was given the shot to end our first pregnancy out of medical necessity.  Sadness grew as I relived the memories of the weekend that preceded; the first sonogram in its emptiness, Christmas parties where no one knew of our secret joy turned to disappointment and church members delivering their babies that very weekend.  Despair took over as I recalled procedures that were revealing in nature, yet seemingly ineffective in their efforts. Even a tinged happiness surfaced in my efforts as I folded garments worn the day I discovered that we were expecting our first child.  Bittersweet were the tears that came as I relived so many memories.

And as much as it pained me to do it, this cleaning was necessary.

I’ll honestly admit that I still have hang-ups where babies are concerned. There are days that I still cannot bring myself to attend showers or be around newborns. I still miss our babies terribly; I’m not sure that feeling will ever go away.

I’ve too often wallowed in self pity, alienating myself as well as others. I’ve built walls between God and man, all in the name of protection, willing my sufferings to disappear. I’ve lost some faith, wondering if I will ever see God’s promises come to fruition.

Yet I still hope.

And that is why I cleaned my closet. In hope that one day I will be able to hold my babies, declaring God’s glory, knowing that until that happens I must go on, that  I can’t allow my pain to impede forward progress.

Choosing to let go of those items was (and still is) a big step for me, one that I will not soon forget. I will long have the memories that are attached to those articles of clothing but their presence in my home no longer stares me in the face, haunting me on a daily basis. I had to let go of those items; they had become my security, my tie to what could have been, and the past is never a place to live. Almost two years later it’s certainly time to move on. So I will.

Healing is a process; sometimes daily, sometimes hourly, and sometimes involving a closet full of memories. For now, I choose to let go literally and figuratively. With God’s help, I choose to walk unfettered, unhindered, and free from the baggage that mars my path, even if they are only clothes.

Misfit Mom

I know that one day I will be a mom. I’ve been told time and time again what a good mother I will be or even that I already am a mother to so many (never mind the fact that there are no children in my home).

My greatest quandary is not that of motherhood itself. I understand the well meant comments of others; the healing that they are meant to bring, the solace that is offered. However, one fact remains to be seen. What will my impending motherhood look like?

Will it be a motherhood first of the heart, or will it be born of my body and its functions? Is that motherhood something that could be taken away because of extenuating circumstances? Will I be understood as a mother of children who have not been made mine indefinitely? While curious, these concerns are minimal in my mind. The doubt that plagues me the most?  Will I be accepted as a mother if that motherhood is not perceived as a permanent position.

My expectancy is different. It does not follow the normal patterns that are traditionally seen. I cannot complain of aches and pains, lack of sleep or changing bodily functions. My moods are not attributed to escalating hormones nor do I look like a mother to be.

But I am.

I do not have the luxury of forty weeks to prepare for my child; knowing that in my world, he or she is only a phone call away. In an instant my carefully crafted world will be changed. I do not have hours of labor preparing me for impending motherhood. I only have the amount of time determined and given by a legislating body.

I spend my days in anticipation of the arrival of the newest member my readymade family. Every day I wait, I wonder. Will this be the day? Will my babies come home to me soon? Will we have a boy or a girl? What will they look like? Are they even born yet? What kind of travesty has brought them to my home?

No, the motherhood I embark on is vastly different from what most experience, yet it is still valid. It is a journey in and of itself, full of ups and downs, moments of waiting and expectation, fear and concern. The anticipation, the joy and even the sorrow are still present, albeit different.

 I may not have had to work for motherhood physically, but the emotional expense is great. The sacrifices may not have changed my physical body, but they have changed my inner person. The investment will have been primarily of heart and soul but it is there the same. The love I bear for my children will be great, my desire to see them grow into profitable humans the same as any other mother.

So one day, when my journey is complete, I will stand alongside many others head held high knowing that I am a mother. No longer will I stand concerned about what others think of me or how I became a mom. I will join countless others who have struggled before me, giving much for their children. I will be a mother who deserves to be called such, as the sacrifices have been great.  It is in that moment that I will proudly say that I am a mother.

*** Obviously this was written before we became foster parents. However, I believe that many of the emotions and fears are still valid, often part of my daily experience. My posting of this writing is actually predicated by an experience from today; I was referred to as my child’s foster mom (no problems there-it’s certainly the truth) in a tone that discounted the impact that I have on this child’s life as a mother. The reminder of my lack of parenthood stung, jolting me back to a reality that I had almost forgotten in the comfort of what our life has become.

Questions of when I will officially be a mom still arise frequently, both voiced by others and quietly within myself. Even though we are foster parents, it feels as if we are no closer to the finish line of being parents than we were a year ago. So still we wait. Officially I am a misfit mom.  

Discoveries

In recent days, I have been working on photo books for our two foster boys, one, so we will have them on hand should circumstances rapidly change and they be returned to biological family, and two, because a couple of weeks ago, within a matter of a few days, I received coupons for two free books! Definitely a deal I couldn't pass up!

I worked on the book for the younger of the two first, mainly because I had already started his. I also assumed that it would be the easier of the two from an emotional standpoint (he's my baby) and because I have far more good pictures of him; he's just that photogenic!

Today, I began to work on the one for our older son. I honestly cannot say that I was looking forward to the experience. I wasn't dreading it either, but I just wasn't super excited about the prospect of spending my time that way. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised with the product, and what I came to realize as a result of my efforts.

It's been no secret that our oldest has had some trouble, and that I for one, have not always handled his pain well, or even at all. He struggles often, unable to contain the fury that rages within him. He rages in a manner that grates on me, resulting in a tumultuous relationship between us at the very least.  It has certainly been difficult.

Today, however was different.

As I worked on his book, I realized that I really do love him, that the words "I love you" are not just something that I say; I really do mean it. That he is "my boy", as I am always calling him. That he is a part of my family, and that I wouldn't know what to do without him in my home.

I realize that the change of heart was certainly a God thing; only He can take the aching hearts of two of His children and graft them together in such a wonderful manner. This change comes after much prayer, on my part as well as that of many others. It is also a work in progress.

I'm sure there will be many more difficult days ahead. Fostering/adopting is not for the faint of heart. But I do know that no matter what happens, with these boys or with any other children who may enter our home, that God is in control, and by His grace, we can live in peaceful harmony together, loving each other in spite of what life throws at us.

So excused me while I go find "My boy." He needs a hug!

Learning Together

Grandparent’s day was yesterday, and in light of the fact that I am sitting in my office listening to the school from across the parking lot (our church leases our educational building to a school during the week and they borrow our sanctuary for larger events) in their recognition of this day, and the fact that it was the first time we were able celebrate with my parents, even as foster grandparents, I have been contemplating my childhood and all it entailed.

Growing up was an adventure in my house. With five children, there was never a dull moment; someone was always up to something. Activity was often found at a frenetic pace, silence at a minimum. Chaos seemed to reign; all the while a carefully balanced order stabilized the disarray. 

I learned much from my parents. They taught me all the basics; daily living skills like washing behind my ears, respect for my elders, what manners are and how to mind them, to never give up, to obey the first time and without complaining. They also pointed me towards God, not in words alone, but by faith-filled example.

Since becoming a parent four months ago, I have come to appreciate their influence more than I ever have. Their love for my children, who are not yet fully mine and may never be, is encouraging; their support of my husband and I indispensable and very much appreciated.

 My parents have taught me much, so summarizing and categorizing all they have poured into my life is difficult, especially since I discover something new daily. But in honor of them, here is my effort to vocalize my appreciation of who they are.

My parents taught me to-

     Love

       God first, with all I am.  Family is second; they are your support system, you are family for life. Everyone needs unconditional love, even the neighbor who doesn’t seem to deserve it. By showing acceptance of others, giving honor and respect to everyone who crosses your path, no matter what their status in life, we glorify God and show our love for Him.

     

     Laugh

       Frequently! It’s good exercise and makes for a happy home. It also strengthens your dependence on God when you exhibit joy even in hard times.

     Learn

       From others. No matter what their age. Be teachable at every turn; learn from the wisdom of those who have gone before you, from the inexperience and exuberance of those who have not. Most of all learn from what God himself is teaching you in each and every moment

     Live

       Wholeheartedly. Do everything to the best of your ability, and don’t compare yourself to others; if you’ve done your best then there is nothing to be ashamed of! Colossians 3:23 has long been a favorite of mine because of this mentality.

     Listen

       For the voice of God. The still small voice whispering in your heart will have the greatest impact of any that my physically bombard, if you give ear to what it is saying.

My parents have impacted my life in profound ways, and I could recount story after story for each of the afore mentioned lessons, would time allow. For now however, it will have to be enough to say, “Thanks mom and dad!” My hope and prayer is that, with God’s help, I can be a parent like them. Imperfectly striving to be more like Jesus every day, learning what it means to live and be family together in our unconventional, God ordained way. 

Over the Top

So this past weekend I went to Women of Faith with my sister. I attended the conference a few years ago, but she never had, and neither of us had been to a Friday morning session so we knew we were in for an experience.

Needless to say, Friday morning dawned early. We drove my boys to their preschool (30 minutes from our house- the joys of living in one town and working in another!), grabbed some yummy Chick-Fil-A breakfast, and faced the beast of Dallas rush hour traffic head on.

It actually wasn’t that bad for a change.

Day one- ready to go!

We arrived, found the best parking space ever (no really, it was good) and headed into the sea of women already at the door. I kind of felt like Dory in Finding Nemo- “just keep swimming…” Anyway, after a timely move from one line to the other, we made our way through ticketing and purse checks to the seating, which was at the time, general admission. As a result, we had front row seating. Awesomeness.

Lunch anyone???

Friday featured Patsy Clairmont, a pintsized (like I’m one to talk) powerhouse of proverbial wisdom, as well as author Andy Andrews. What a combination!  After coming off of what had been a fairly emotional week, I was reminded through Patsy’s words and then convicted by the Holy Spirit that I have the ability to control my emotions, that God has given me a will that is stronger, and that feelings don’t have brains. She also advised that thoughts should be harnessed, lips be sealed, and was the librarians new best friend with the recommendation to read. Andrews, through masterful storytelling, reminded us of the importance of who we are, and that even when we don’t see it, the imprint that we leave on others now will be felt down the road. Both offered sound advice during a Q&A session that afternoon, which was one of my favorite parts of the day.

During our dinner break, Target called our name; first for water (I felt like a camel in the desert) and second for a second jacket for me (…and a penguin in the arctic). We then met my handsome hubby to switch cars and exchange introductions with a friend of his involved in a start up. After a quick dinner, we returned to the arena and found our “real” seats. They looked like this:

Not too shabby!

Friday evening featured Lisa Welchel, who spoke on friendship followed by a Mandisa concert, which was pretty awesome in and of its self. The songs were soothing and uplifting, a timely reminder that God is in control, no matter what our personal circumstances may bring.

Saturday highlighted Brenda Warner, wife of former NFL QB Kurt Warner and her amazing story (I can’t wait to get her book via Booksneeze- please hurry Mr.Mailman), Sandi Patty, who of course sang, and our personal favorite, Amy Grant.

My sister and I, especially my sister, were some of the biggest Amy Grant fans ever when we were kids. We memorized every album we had in our house, sang the songs in our grandparent’s church and fought over who got to sing what verse.  Unfortunately, we were devastated when she divorced as that was something that was forbidden in our home (we have awesome parents). So we closeted our love for her, never turning back… until Saturday. Not really. We both continued to like her music, again, my sister more so than me, but who can resist a good “Grown Up Christmas List” done by Amy Grant? Not me! That said, Grant did an acoustic concert Saturday afternoon, which was very relaxing after our lunch, and was also a fun trip down memory lane for my sister and I.

Listening to Amy Grant, our childhood music fave!

Marilyn Meberg then spoke on cravings, and then event ended with a recap by all the speakers each driving home their individual points of interest.

All in all, I had an awesome time. It was great to spend some time doing something out of the ordinary, especially since it meant being with my sister whom I rarely see. We laughed at ourselves when we couldn’t figure out what the end of the designated hash tag meant, rolled our eyes at family issues, and deepened the bond of sisters that existed between us. Who knows, maybe we’ll go again next year- it might be even more “Over the Top.”

Surviving the Seasons

Weather used to be something that people employed as a conversation starter, small talk of sorts when there was nothing else to say. These days, it is a legitimate topic of interest, something that impacts us all. For me, this entire year has often seemed to mirror the seasons outside my window, each one being that of mere survival, making it from one to the other, holding on tightly, anticipating what may be around the next curve.

Our year started with a winter in our area that brought some weather that was extremely cold, shutting down our entire metropolis for several days. Personally, this year commenced bleak and cold, winter’s icy tendrils attempting to overtake more than just the outside world.  It was also a time of rebuilding, restoration, renewed hope in spite of the circumstances that surrounded as we ended our journey of infertility treatments following my second miscarriage and entered the foster/adopt path.

Spring arrived early, almost before the devastation that winter had wreaked could pass. It too was a time of anticipation as we prepared for our potential children, decorating their room, putting the crib together, dreaming and imagining what our life could soon be. It was a time of completion as we fulfilled all the requirements to be a foster/adopt family, receiving our license, permission to become parents via this avenue.

Summer too dawned early bringing with it a scorching heat that was relentless and has not yet seen relief. Hot days became hotter, becoming almost unbearable at times, often to the detriment of plants, animals, and even people. Likewise I personally have felt like circumstances were as unyielding as the sun beating down outside. Our foster placement has brought unimaginable conditions; wounds once considered healed were ripped open, daily stressors magnified. This in turn rendered the daily task of dealing with children who need so much almost overwhelming, draining the life from me until I no longer feel as if I have anything to give.  Pain has been my constant companion at times, emotional turmoil a certain thing; uncertainty as sure as the scorching heat and lack of rain. Every day is an effort to sustain some sense of normalcy.  

As I look at the date, I realize that fall’s arrival is imminent; less than a month away by calendar days. I do not yet know what it will hold. Will it bring with its cooler temperatures some relief to my life? Will the ever shortening days become longer, or will respite be found in the cool of the abridged daylight? Only God knows. I do not say this in a flippant manner; ultimately all is up to Him, and I know that whatever the coming months hold, He is in control,  a fact I would do well to remember when I feel as if I am that sun scorched land in dire need of a drink.  

My weary soul longs for rest, for the calm of the cool, yet I know ultimately that my rest is in Him; my heart’s cry that of the Psalmist in Psalm 143:8 “Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.” So no matter what the rest of this year holds, fall and then our return to winter, I will look to Him as my strength because only He can sustain me through the seasons no matter what their conditions.

Show me, Lord, which way I should go.

Women of Faith

A few years ago I was fortunate enough to receive tickets to a Women of Faith event; at that point in time I had never been, was a newlywed, and didn’t really know anyone to go with, so I spent the first night carpooling with a lady I didn’t know (which was interesting) and the second day with my mother-in-law (good bonding experience).

I had a really good time, but have not been back. All that changes this weekend.

A few weeks ago, I received an email from Booksneeze, which is a book review program for bloggers that I joined a while back. As I mentioned in my last post, I have a separate blog for all of my book reviews, mainly because I started doing that before I decided to be a real blogger and was still pretty much in hiding. Anyway… this email stated that they were going to be selecting individuals to attend the Women of Faith conference for free to blog about it, so I figured why not, what’s it going to hurt! A few weeks later I was notified that I had been selected.

As a result, this weekend will be way fun for me. My sister, who is also pretty much my best friend is joining me, and I can’t wait to experience this conference with her- it certainly comes at a good time for both of us, and will be a most welcome “girls” weekend- there will  most definitely more to come! 

Book Review- Love You More: The Divine Surprise of Adopting My Daughter

 Normally all my book reviews are on a separate blog, created just for that purpose but I recently read a book that I had to share over here! The book is called Love You More: The Divine Surprise of Adopting My Daughter by Jennifer Grant. In it, Grant expresses feelings I have certainly encountered along our journey, both infertility and adoption. At one point I was reading aloud to my husband in wholehearted agreement with the paragraph I was on!  Here's what I posted on my book blog: 

"Most of us could point out someone we have encountered who has adopted. Adoption has certainly become more and more prevalent and even accepted in our society, but is still somewhat shrouded in mystery, largely misunderstood; the trials an adoptive family faces unlike any other.

Love You More: The Divine Surprise of Adopting My Daughter is the story of the author, Jennifer Grant, and her family as they adopt a baby girl from Guatemala. In it, Grant details her feelings regarding many of the hurdles that adoptive families face, from the mounds of paperwork, the inquisitions into their personal lives through the home study process, and even the strenuous time of waiting for that beloved and much anticipated child to be found and cleared to come “home”.  She also deals with post adoption struggles such as blending your family, helping the child adjust to their new environment and the emotional encounter that adoption sometimes is.

Being that my husband and I are in the process of adopting, I found this book very poignant and refreshing. I loved her openness and honesty about adoption, and especially her sensitivity towards those, who like me have chosen adoption after battling infertility. Even in the early stages of our adoption process, and in spite of the fact that we are adopting from the foster system rather than internationally, I can certainly echo her sentiments on many points, even reading parts to my husband, declaring this book one of my new favorites. Thanks Thomas Nelson for the opportunity to read this book for free through the Booksneeze blogger program!"

After reading this book I would certainly encourage you to find a copy for yourself- I think it's worth the time!  

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com <http://BookSneeze®.com> book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 <http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html> : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

I remember when...

It’s hard to believe that our first baby would have been a year old sometime this past week had all gone as planned. It’s also difficult to swallow the fact that I could be approximately a month from delivering our second child.

Where has the time gone?

I still wonder what they would have looked like; would he or she have had my hair, or my husband’s eyes? Would they both have been boys, both girls, or one of each? What would their personalities have been like? Reserved? Quiet? Life of the party?

I miss them both.

Sometimes I forget that we’ve been down this road already, that it’s old hat now. That I’ve already celebrated a passed due date and survived, and I’ll do the same again.

Yet the longing to know my children remains.

Life goes on however, and I can’t stop living in today because of what happened yesterday, or the days before that for that matter. I can only live in hope of the promise that God has made, knowing that He is faithful and even on days when the memories are so fresh you can almost taste them, He is still in control. That He knows how pain and suffering feel and was willing to share in mine. That He understands my desires and is able to fulfill those wishes in His perfect timing. And above all, He knows what is best for me and will ultimately fulfill that plan, even when I don’t see it. His blessings are often not what I perceive, His ways higher than mine. So while it may be melancholy to remember all that has seemingly been lost, I know it is not for naught.

For all that, I’ll always be thankful.

Wrestling with God

I’ve always been amazed by Jacob in the Bible.

Jacob, who began life the underdog, grasping at the heel of his brother, always striving for something better, for what he did not already have. Jacob, who in the midst of struggle fought on, never giving up. Jacob, who, in spite of his family background and history was the father of many nations.

 His tenacity was unbelievable. The way he lived his life full force is in short, amazing. Now don’t get me wrong; these same qualities got him into plenty of trouble, mostly because he was such a strong personality. Nothing kept him down for long.

Jacob possessed a rare persistence that propelled him far beyond many of his peers. When he saw something he wanted, it became his at whatever the necessary cost. Birthright of the firstborn, the wife of his choice, land and possessions; all were his because he never let up when something was within his reach.

He even wrestled with God.

When Jacob wrestled with God, he did so primarily with selfish motivation. His family was on the line, and faced with the reality of a brother with a known vendetta on his head, Jacob was not taking any chances. So he fought, not knowing who he had engaged in combat.

Jacob fought out of fear. Fear for the lives of his children and wives. Fear for his own life. Fear of losing his possessions. Fear of the unknown in his situation. Fear of his brother Esau. Pure, unadulterated fear.

Jacob fought because of what he had at stake. Everything that Jacob held dear was on the line that night, or so he thought. But what if he had taken the time to find out who he was struggling against? How different the outcome could have been! His fight that night was wholly unnecessary. While his drive is admirable and his desire to protect what had been entrusted to his care commendable, the fact remains that Jacob needn’t have fought; I fully believe the blessings he received would have still been his, only without the pain, the scarring caused by struggle. If only he had surrendered.

So at what point does wrestling require surrender?

Sometimes I wrestle with God as well. I struggle with the why’s and how’s of our, of my infertility. I grapple with the understanding that for some unknown reason, we are in this boat when there are so many others who apparently have such an easy time. I question the reasoning behind this trial.

My motivations are oftentimes selfish. I fight because I think that it is what is required of me, when in reality, surrender is what God is asking. I battle because I don’t want to endure this trial because it hurts, even though my pain causes me to grow spiritually. I want the end result without the effort.

I fight because I don’t know what else to do. When God’s way is no longer clearly evident I take things into my own hands, in essence telling God and showing the world that I am in control; just like Jacob. And just like Jacob, I refuse to surrender.

But what would happen if I did? What would happen if I took the time to ask who my opponent was, to really see what I was up against? Most likely I would find that I am struggling most against the one I claim to follow.

Therein lies the problem: When I fight my solution, I automatically lose. My way is hindered because all energy is focused on dealing with me, rather than combating the real issue.  Fighting the answer never leads to a win- only to heartbreak and turmoil.

Like Jacob, I need to learn that while I may still be blessed when I am finished struggling with God, those blessings would be greater if I would follow His directions first. That by asking who my opposition is, I not only know who I am up against, but I also know that I am fighting the true opponent  and not wasting my energy on the one who is my solution.  That I could have rest instead of trouble, peace in the face of turmoil, calm in the midst of the storm.

So when does wrestling require surrender?

When you are wrestling God.

Contentment

One thing I have certainly struggled with especially in recent days is contentment. I was reminded of this recently by my wonderful husband, who has an uncanny knack for reminding me where my focus needs to be when I have gotten off track.

Contentment has, in my mind become as dirty as some choice four letter words. It is what I run from even as I begrudgingly acknowledge that it is the very thing I need the most. Why?  My contentment has been based on what I have, or do not have as the case may be.

 I see what others have, what I desire, and I want that for myself. I wish for the blessing that they have been given, the opportunities they have received, often as a result, and am angered when I perceive that they neglect to view those treasures as such.  I become “righteously” indignant when I watch how they carry themselves and act in certain situations. An unholy discontent fills my being when I see what they have, even as I lack.

I have felt that coming to terms with my discontented state, in particular coming to a state of contentment with remaining childless, if that is what God has planned, meant giving up that desire, the hope of ever having my own baby. This is not just children, which are something I’ve long desired, but specifically an infant, and more particularly one that is biologically ours.

So prompted by a continual stirring of the Holy Spirit, I began to study what a contented life looks like. And as I read, I came to this conclusion: contentment is not giving up, it is not letting go of dreams and desires; it is simply an assuredness that God is at work and will fulfill his promises in His time and accordance with His plan.

Contentment is resting in Him, trusting His plan, acknowledging that it is the best. Proverbs 19:23 says it this way. “The fear of the LORD leads to life; then one rests content, untouched by trouble.” Untouched by trouble. Why? How? Because when we are unfettered by our concerns, focusing on the Lord, we no longer have to worry about our troubles, because He has taken care of them. He is in control and in that place there is no fear. Our best is always His heart.

Psalm 131 creates an amazing word picture of contentment when it says this:

¹ My heart is not proud, LORD, 
   my eyes are not haughty; 
I do not concern myself with great matters 
   or things too wonderful for me. 
² But I have calmed and quieted myself, 
   I am like a weaned child with its mother; 
   like a weaned child I am content.
 ³ Israel, put your hope in the LORD 
   both now and forevermore.           

Pure contentment is built in complete dependence on God (vs. 1). There can be no other source. When we try to achieve contentment in our own strength we fail miserably because it can only be found by depending on Him. We no longer have to be despondent, disenchanted and filled with discontent; hope and contentment walk hand in hand, just as the Psalmist wrote (vs. 3). We only have to hope in the right place!

While the picture of an infant and its mother from verse two was off-putting for me at first, as I allowed the truth of its message to sink into my heart, I realized its impact. I think of my two foster children, and how much they are comforted by my touch, my presence alone when they are frightened, or hurt, or even their dependence on me when they are hungry. As I meet those needs, they rest quietly, and they are content, just as we should be.

Contentment requires us to lay aside our desires for God’s, to align ourselves with His will. When our wants are the same as His, we end up finding satisfaction in the blessings we have already been given. God does not forget our desires; He knows every single one and holds them dear to His heart. As a good father, however, He is unwilling to give us things that would not be beneficial for us at certain times, even things we think we “need.” But as we honor Him by following in obedience and resting in His plan, we can be assured that His good gifts are on their way. Even the things we have desired most.

While my plan certainly does not look like His, (as I would most certainly done things differently) I can rest peacefully, contented in my circumstances, embracing all that I do have, reminding myself daily of this through the words of Hebrews 13:5 “Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”  

We are never alone; He is always present, and that is always enough.

Letting Go

Since becoming a mom via the foster system two months ago, I have certainly struggled. There is nothing quite like being a foster, foster to adopt or adoptive parent, specifically after struggling with infertility, and more particularly when there hasn't been a conclusive end to that part of life, outside of simply resolving to move on.

This struggle has been an emotional one to say the least, consuming my time and energy, overtaking my mental faculties far too often. Pain engulfs me, leaving me to wonder if there will ever be an end to this journey. Fear creeps in, taking hold, telling me that it will always be like this, that no satisfaction will ever be found. 

Contentment seems far beyond my grasp, and with each passing day I have grown more restless.

The attitudes and actions of others sting, leaving behind a bitter resentment. Words, spoken in a naivety, puncture, deepening wounds already acquired.  Reminders of what was, what could have been haunt, bequeathing a desperation for what is not, and seemingly will never be.  A somberness pervades my demeanor, leaving me with feelings of destitution; alone with few real friends, and even fewer who really understand my situation.

But then I hear a still, small voice calling me, beckoning me to come, to rest, to let go. If only I will listen. It, He, calls me to let go of the pain that has already been taken upon His shoulders; to relinquish my scars, scabs, and wounds into His.

He challenges me to renounce my fear, letting go of my inhibitions, placing my trust in Him instead of anything that modern, conventional wisdom would endorse. In doing so, I return my faith to Him rather than to the enemy, Satan, whose artillery is filled with scare tactics.

He gently corrects me, directing me to abandon my anger and bitterness along with the unforgiving spirit I have had, and still have at times towards others. When I carry the afore mentioned, I stand in contempt of all I claim to believe. I have been forgiven, and others deserve the same treatment as much as I do.

I cannot claim to be a representative of Christ when my actions contradict the point my words make. No matter what others may say or do, no matter how their misguided, ill-timed words may hurt, how their actions may influence our relationship, the fact remains that  my “attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5).

He then reminds me that jealousy must also go, being listed among several Biblical lists of serious grievances. This ugly green monster, when allowed in, pervades every inch of my being; thoughts, attitudes, and actions, feeding all sorts of other contemptible behavior. It oozes its way into every aspect of daily life, almost literally coloring the world an ugly shade of green. When envy is present, contentment is not possible and nothing is ever good enough. However, as Paul wrote Timothy, “Godliness with contentment is great gain,” and while speaking specifically of financial success, the application is the same; contentment is reliance on God for all we need and have been promised.

He exhorts me to forgive myself by refusing to live in regret for past decisions and even mistakes, reminding me that my life is not in the past, but in the future, walking forward daily with Him. Past experiences now play an integral role in my future, not as a dwelling place for my thoughts, but, as those days have already been experienced, their purpose now is as a learning tool, a stepping stone, not as a stumbling block or hindrance to my progress.

He propels me forward, encouraging me to “press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me,” to be as those who have gone before, “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward.” (Philippians 3:12-14). My goal is simply this; to strive towards the calling I have received from my Lord, impacting the world around me one day at a time, especially that of children.

So for now, that means fostering children that may never permanently be mine. It means that for the time I have them, I must care for them as if they were “mine,” leaving behind my own fears and anxieties surrounding infertility and my future family, disregarding what others may say or do, remembering that God is in control, He knows what my desires are and all that He has promised us concerning our future family.

And for now, that’s enough. 

I’m letting go.

Cliff Hangers

The last few days I have been contemplating our current status as far as children goes. We are again faced with waiting, wondering whether the children we are currently fostering will eventually be ours, as well as speculating what will happen as far as biology goes.  As I thought about it, I realized that once again, we are in a place of decision, and I really don’t know where to go, or what to do, only that I must trust God, and Him alone in this situation.

As I thought about the journey that we’ve been on, from the beginning, I came to the conclusion that it has been a road full of cliffs. Cliffs that we have had to jump off, not just observe. Some of them have been easier than others, nonetheless, these cliffs, in my opinion, have not been beautiful, spectacular, or wonderful to look at, at least not as we were facing them. They were, and still are, scary, dark, treacherous, and full of the unknown.

Some of the cliffs we’ve faced-

            *Going off birth control

            * Making initial contact with medical professionals because things were not returning "normal" physically like they should

            *Realizing that we needed more help than originally anticipated- something really is wrong

            *Calling the Fertility specialist

            *Beginning specialized tests to understand what is causing the hold up

            *Scheduling surgery

            *Losing two babies

            *Having surgery

*Lots of monitoring   

            *Using medicated cycles

*Deciding how far is too far for us as far as fertility treatment goes

*Choosing to foster adopt

            *Ultimately choosing to trust God, rather than doctors or medications for the children we would love to have

Some of the cliffs we’ve faced have been higher than others, but each one was as scary as the previous. Why? Because we’ve never seen the bottom before we jump off.

You see, each of these cliffs is a challenge, a test of our faith in God. When we jump off, it must be in full reliance on Him not on our own strength. He already knows what the whole picture looks like, and shows us in pieces.

He gently calls us to trust Him with everything we are, to step of that precipice into the safety of His waiting arms. Unfortunately, I usually am suspicious of the cliff itself, rather than seeing that God is faithfully standing there, waiting on me to step off.

Now while the cliffs seem to be never ending, in reality, they are only a small jump, a little stepping stone to what He has in store for me. If only I will trust…

So here’s my challenge for the time being; whole heartedly stepping of the cliffs that come, straight into the arms of my savior, following where he leads, knowing that He has me in His hand the entire way. 

Desperation

So much has been going on here lately and I haven't really had time to write, but when I do, it's gonna be good! Anyway, this was what was rolling through my head on Sunday on the way home from church- more to come later!

My heart is in pain

My soul is parched
My emotions run amok

I have nothing to say
Nowhere to go
No place to escape my fate

Still I turn to you

You who are my all
The rock on which I stand
The peace in the midst of my storm

You are my escape
My refuge
My wall
My protection in harm

Safe from disgrace
Hold me in your arms
Only there do I find peace

Always I turn to you

So hold me in your arms
Rescue my by your love
Free me of my fears
Show me what I am to become

Remove my inhibitions
Ease the pain within
Cover me in your grace
Show me your face

I only turn to you

Joy, Belief and Doubt

James 1:2-8- “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, ³ because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. ⁴ Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. ⁵ If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. ⁶ But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. ⁷ Those who doubt should not think they will receive anything from the Lord; ⁸ they are double-minded and unstable in all they do.”

Joy, belief, and doubt. Not exactly things that one would expect to find in the same sentence, but here they are, staring us all in the face. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve read this passage many times, heard it preached multiple times and practically memorized it.

That’s why it was so interesting to read it in the way I did recently.

Now, these thoughts are not all original to me. Again with the number of times I’ve encountered this passage, I didn’t think anything new could even be revealed.

I’ll admit, that sometimes I’ve struggled, things being what they are. Some months are better than others; memories come and go, milestones are passed bringing with them reminders of what was, what could have been. Life moves on for others as well- I’ve encountered friends being told that there was no longer a detectable heartbeat for her long awaited child, and another who just found out that she is expecting all in the same week. What a roller coaster!

I think that’s where this passage fits in for me. Obviously, our journey to have kids has been and sometimes still is a trial for me, these last couple of years especially. According to the Word however, in the face of all this, I must be joyful. Not down in the dumps, having pity party after pity party, but joyous in the fact that I am indeed in a trying time. Why? Simply this. When my faith is tested, perseverance is built, and when this time is complete, it is evidenced by a maturity that is full and complete.  

So how do we get through these times? By asking God for wisdom. Needless to say, anytime we are faced with a difficult circumstance as believer, our first inclination is to ask ‘Why, God?’ Not necessarily a bad question, if done in the right attitude. This doesn’t really get us anywhere though. Instead, our conversation with God should be more an intercession for wisdom, for leading in our current situation.

Often this passage is used in the context of needing wisdom, smarts, and even direction, and while it’s application is not prohibitive of these functions, it is specifically mentioned in the context of trial, of time of struggle, when we are humanely at our weakest points. It is at this point when God chooses to move, not by removing the situation or taking us from our difficulties, but by giving us wisdom to handle where we are. This wisdom comes with two directives. First, ask. Second, believe.

Asking is probably the easier of the two, seeing that it only requires us speaking to God, which ideally is something we do every day. It’s really a simple process if you think about it. Ask. That’s all. James promises that when we ask for wisdom, it will be given to us, undeservedly, unquestioned, never unrequited.  All we have to believe.

I think the challenge with this belief is not in trusting that God can or will give us wisdom, but in actually accepting the wisdom he gives to us. How many times has God given us the wisdom we asked for, only for us to discount or even ignore what He has said? Conveniently, it often seems easier to continue on our own way when God has spoken. It is such a travesty to think that we  act in a manner that shows we know better than the living  God, the source of true, pure, unadulterated wisdom, the answer to every question, the solution to every problem, all because we doubt.

You see, doubt is like changing your mind. When we ask God for wisdom, we are asking for Him to be in charge of our situation, to take things into His hands and do His work. When we doubt, we take that problem, that trial, the situation we face back into our hands and tell God by our actions, if not directly to His face that He is not good enough. That He doesn’t really know what’s best. That we’re ok without Him.

Sobering, I know.

That’s where I am now. In a place of trial, of joy, and I must consider it such. Not that it’s fun, or even something I want to continue doing, but it is an opportunity for growth that wouldn’t have happened otherwise, and for that I can be grateful.

It is also a time for complete reliance on God. Waiting, trusting, resting, but not doubting. I’ve asked for wisdom, and he’s granted it. All I have to do is believe.

So for now, I take joy in my struggle, asking for God to take over through His wisdom, trusting that He does 

know best, and will do what He has promised in due time.

Conflict of Interests

Last night Chris (the hubby) and I went to Target to register for baby gifts.

Now for most couples, this is a natural part of being in a marital relationship; love, marriage, baby carriage. Unfortunately things have not worked exactly as we’d planned in this arena. We found love, married, and have been waiting for the carriage for almost 4 years.

After much prayer and consideration, we chose to pursue adoption in addition to our regularly scheduled ttc life. Adopting was something we’d always planned to do, just didn’t anticipate doing it now- it was more of a “later” kind of opportunity.

Our families are super excited. My mom has been giving me little things here and there “for her grandbabies.” His mom has closets full of toys and activities whereby children can engage their imaginations. His family also wants to throw us a shower.

I am totally not anti-shower by any means. Like any other expectant parents, we need all the help we can get- kids are expensive after all! We have virtually nothing- a convertible crib has been our biggest investment to this point. A tub full of outgrown infant clothing from when I was a nanny for twin girls, a few toys, an old swing, and a pack and play from my husband’s cousin occupy the closet.

In spite of all this, as well as my appreciation for what my in-laws are doing, registering was by far one of the most awkward things I’ve done in my life. I even made Chris carry the clicker.

The tension inside me is interesting. I am truly settled with where God has us at this moment. I have learned so much (and have so much still to learn), but I am not distressed about any one part of our situation, unlike in the past. Would I like for our situation to be different? Of course. But I’m truly ok with where we are.

I’m ok with were we are treatment wise and also in knowing that on any given day we might receive that call, the one that would forever change the landscape of our lives. We wait in hopeful anticipation that somehow, someday, we will be parents one way or the other and are at the moment, for all practical purposes, expectant parents.

Still, I felt like such a fraud standing there last night.

How do you register when you don’t even know who your children are, when they are coming, or how old they will be when they come home? I was saddened by the need to choose gender neutral supplies instead of vibrant pinks or blues. This is something that I would most likely have done anyway, but the fact that I was doing it out of necessity rather than by choice was somewhat disappointing.  Considering what items we might need for and infant, toddler or preschooler is daunting. The selection of supplies is astounding; I never realized just how many choices there are and I consider myself fairly well versed in all things child related. I guess that’s what happens when you intentionally avoid an entire section of the store in fear of the emotions or flood of tears that are bound to surface after a visit! Adding to the dynamic is the fact that we haven’t given up on having biological children, and let’s face it, there are some things that are just more geared towards growing a family in that manner.

All things considered, I know that the shower will be a good thing, a day to celebrate what God is doing. It will take stress off of us, mentally and financially; we will no longer need to freak out every time we get a phone call and start making a list of necessary supplies to procure.  It will give others a chance to share in our joy, even before it is complete. As Chris told me in his pep talk to me on the way to the store, this shower is a faith thing; faith that God will do what He has promised us so many times, through so many people and situations.

I know that God is faithful, that He knows my desires and the deep love that I already possess for our children, no matter who they are or where they come from, so for now we wait, knowing that God is in control, and that His timing is perfect.

In a Little While

When I was 2 years old the first of my siblings, a sister, was born. Before her birth, my favorite phrase was “in a little while. “ I learned that “in a little while” I was going to have a sibling, or according to me, “a brother or a girl.”

Now that I’m older, I realize just how much that tiny axiom applies to daily circumstances. Waiting is something that we do every day. We wait for traffic signals to indicate the appropriate times to stop and go, often impatiently. We wait for meals to cook, or to be served. We wait for the right time to confront people. And for believers, there is an added element; daily we wait for God to give us direction and even for the fulfillment of His promises.

Waiting is often tedious, taxing, making us tenuous and tentative.  We begin to doubt what we’ve heard from God, wondering if it was just our imagination or if what we’ve heard was only wishful thinking. Waiting causes a desperation that is like none other. It somehow justifies in our minds reasons for saying and doing things that we would not ordinarily consider acceptable. Typically patient individuals are suddenly impatient, unwilling to wait for what is to come. Selfishness rises to the front of a list of undesirable behaviors in which we participate.

Fortunately, waiting doesn’t have to be this way! Waiting, in its intended form is meant to be a time of rest, respite, restoration. It is a time to refresh our weary bodies and souls in preparation for what is to come, to heal wounds that have been inflicted. Think about what Isaiah 40:27-31 says:

²⁷ “Why do you complain, Jacob? 
   Why do you say, Israel, 
“My way is hidden from the LORD; 
   my cause is disregarded by my God”? 
²⁸ Do you not know? 
   Have you not heard? 
The LORD is the everlasting God, 
   the Creator of the ends of the earth. 
He will not grow tired or weary, 
   and his understanding no one can fathom. 
²⁹ He gives strength to the weary 
   and increases the power of the weak. 
³⁰ Even youths grow tired and weary, 
   and young men stumble and fall; 
³¹ but those who hope in the LORD 
   will renew their strength. 
They will soar on wings like eagles; 
   they will run and not grow weary, 
   they will walk and not be faint.”

When we wait God style, hoping in the Lord, resting in his powerful arms, our wait is not cumbersome.

Rather it is a time that provides reflection and relaxation as we rest in the plans of the Creator who is fully in control of any situation we may encounter. 

Our Heavenly Father never overlooks a detail as he first addresses our human instinct to tense in adversity by reminding us (verse 27) that we are not alone nor are we forgotten, that He is fully capable and is more than strong enough to carry to completion what His promises include without becoming tired or overburdened (verse 28). In fact, He provides that same strength to those who wait, who often are weary, increasing their power as they rely on Him. Waiting is an opportunity to recharge if we will only view it as such.  

Sometimes, just like my parents undoubtedly did, God tells us “in a little while.” When He tells us this, it’s easy to come unglued, or at least feel like we should, but when we face times of waiting as time for restoration, for healing, of hope, that waiting no longer feels like an eternity; rather it really is a “little” while. When we wait in hopeful anticipation, the fulfillment of that promise will be even sweeter.

We are reminded of this in Habakkuk 2:3;

“For the revelation awaits an appointed time; 
   it speaks of the end 
   and will not prove false. 
Though it linger, wait for it; 
   it will certainly come 
   and will not delay.”

Waiting is essential to our existence. We need the rest from the day to day, week to week, month to month chaos that surrounds us. We also need the endurance and stamina that waiting brings through its God given strength, forged through patience and trust. Waiting gives us the ability to trust God even when we don’t understand and can’t see what’s ahead and in doing so, it develops a dependence on him in its quietness and character that is so pervasive it is not easily broken.

So next time God replies with an “in a little while,” remember that He is doing this for our good, that He is in control, and that even though we may seem forgotten and alone, He does see, He knows, and will fulfill His promise in its timing. When that time is over, you will have received more than the fulfillment of that promise; you will have learned the benefit of the wait.