Musings from midair....

Undoubtedly, atmospheric cruising in a window seat on a cloudless day in December allows one the chance to gain a little perspective.

As always happens when I fly, peering downward at the tiny dots of houses and trees; noting the rise and fall of the land below and the snakelike winding of rivers and creeks; seeing the perfectly delineated boundaries of fields and golf courses; I am reminded of the scripture, "Who is man that You are mindful of him?"

I am struck by my minuteness in the world as I stare out of my porthole on the world from 29,000 feet.

But our God sees the whole earth in its entirety, north to south, east to west. It's all within His view from the rising of the sun to it's setting. The thought that He would know my name, much less concern Himself with the tiniest details of my life is utterly preposterous. But mystery of mysteries and miracle of miracles, it is true.

Paradoxically, as I think back over the events of the last two and a half years and, in fact my very reason for being in an airplane on this occasion, it is impossible given my minuteness that the events of my life would have transpired as they have if it weren't for the very hand of God.

How do two tiny specks of a particular man and woman in rural North Carolina become the parents of an even tinier speck of humanity born a world away in Eastern Africa?

Papers? Documents? Governments? Solely? Impossible.

From my heavenly perspective this day, I reflect on the mighty work God did to bring Malachi into our lives. I am humbled by the mighty work God is doing to bring us Zach.

But His work in our hearts and lives didn't stop at those things.

This day, I am flying, not to the far side of the world to meet a son handpicked by God, but to the big city to meet a friend handpicked by Him. A farm girl from Illinois and this bumpkin from NC - two hearts knit together on the other side of the world so many months ago.

Thank you sweet Jesus that You hear our hearts, see our faces, and know our names. Thank you for the sweet gift of friendship.

A new home...

Obviously, I took a blogging break for a while. The busy-ness of life has been overwhelming recently. Life isn't any less busy, but I seem to be managing it a little better lately. 


New on the home front....We are buying a house. 


I don't know if it's just us, but even deciding whether or not to buy a house was a difficult decision. Such is the life of those in ministry. 


First, the reverend hubby's calling doesn't always lend itself to being in one place for a long time.  We hope we're here in our little town at our current rockin' church FOREVER, but who knows what God has planned? 


Secondly, we're trying to bring Zach home. This is an expensive endeavor. Was now really the time to be buying a home?


We had decided to stay in our rental home that we like, in a neighborhood we really like. 


Then a house comes on the market that more than meets our needs for a phenomenal price that will save us money every month. We made a ridiculous offer. They accepted it. We had the home inspection that showed a few minor issues that have to be addressed. They offered money to fix it.  


All along in this process, our prayer has been, "Lord, we are not wise people. We are dumb sheep. Will you please slam the door in our face, if this is NOT what You want for us?" 


But, the door seems to stay wide open. In fact, last week, our landlord agreed to let us out of our lease even though we are under contract here until April. This, even though he recently lost his job. 


We have been left shaking our head at the way God seems to be in the details.  I don't know why God blesses us this way. I personally believe it's because Brad is the person who most closely resembles Christ of anyone that has walked the earth since the Ascension. 


Some days I think I married Jesus. And it can be frustrating to have such a perfect spouse. 


Really. It can. 


Particularly when the other one of us probably more closely resembles the archenemy. 


(BTW...Brad would disagree with nearly everything I've said about he and I here, but that's just because he's so dang humble. I know the truth.)


So why this place? Well, it has a lot of room outside. And it's all on one level. 


Some of M's needs include some mobility issues. Being in a house with a steep staircase, even though it's gated off, is scary at times. A visiting child or someone else mistakenly leaves the gate open and M runs up the stairs. (It's the coming down part that is scariest.) I often carry him up or down the stairs. This is tricky because the stairs are quite steep and I have fallen a couple times (though, thank heavens, not while I was carrying him). But I think about it every time I'm carrying him on the steps. Our new guy will have many of the same delays and issues that M has. This new place offers peace of mind just in the fact that there are no stairs and navigation will be much easier. 


Plus, everybody's underwear will be on the same floor, which makes a mama happy on laundry day. 


This new house is 40+ years old (built in the 60's baby!) and about 600 square feet bigger than our current home, though we didn't go looking for a bigger house. 


How many more kids do you think we can fit in that one before we outgrow it? I'm hoping a bigger place is indication of a bigger family! 


So, that's it. We're moving. Again. But at least we're staying in the same town at the same church or I would not feel like celebrating. 


I heard Adrian Rogers on TV last night say when God called them to leave their church in Florida and move to the church in Tennessee that he wound up pastoring for over 30 years, that he and his wife cried like babies as they drove away.   


I get it.  But I sure hope I never have to really get it. 


In the meantime, we are so thankful for God's work in our lives here and the way He lets us catch little glimpses of His hand. 


We are blessed so much more than we deserve. 




Heather

Ponderings from long haul...

Some may have seen my Facebook post about being one big step closer to South Korea. 


The Lord has been faithful and we have crossed the homestudy bridge. 


This is pretty significant, particularly in South Korean adoptions since South Korea requires no dossier. 


Hopefully we'll hear later this week about the next steps that are specific to South Korea. Of course, like every mother everywhere, I want to know our "due date." For families adopting internationally that is the approximate date that we can expect to travel. I want to know how much longer I have to wait. 


I know that in my posts here and on FB I have come across as excited about bringing Zach home. 


I am. No doubt. I'm excited to add to our family with this very special little guy. 


I'm also nervous and not just a little scared.


Why? 


...Because our lives are very full as it is. Too full lots of days if you ask me. And I struggle with balance. I want to be everywhere and do everything with everyone and I can't. 


...Because sometimes I am overwhelmed by sweet M's needs and there are days now that I do not want to have to call another doctor or arrange another test, or sit down with another specialist. It's too draining and painful.  I have said more than once to the Reverend Husband, "What in the world are we going to do with two little guys like M?"


...Because I'm worried Zach might not be a good sleeper either and how in the world will I parent without sleep? I NEED sleep. I am an ugly person in every way when I haven't had it. 


...Because I'm worried what else we'll find out about Zach once he gets home. M's adoption was such a surprise on so many levels. So many things came to light after the fact. It makes me wonder what we'll discover this go 'round.


...Because I'm afraid of the dark place that I was in just a few months after M came home. I know that dark place was because I had unreasonable expectations of M, and of myself. This go 'round I'm going to hope for the best and expect the worse. But I am afraid that part of "the worst" will include another bout with the demon of depression. Unfortunately he knows all to well where I live. But I want him to go to hell and stay there. 


So given all these fears, why do we proceed? Are these good reasons to stop? 


No. I don't think so. I have done a lot of soul searching because there are a lot of really logical reasons why this might not be a good idea. 


But whether or not something makes sense to you and the others around you isn't always a good measure of whether God is asking you to do it. God speaks to His children. He has called us to this, and ultimately it's a matter of obedience. In times past, when God has spoken to our hearts and led us in a particular direction, it has rarely been "logical." But each and every time, when we have stepped out in faith to pursue what we believe He has called us to do, He has shown up in a BIG, God-sized way that has made it more than clear that we were doing exactly as He planned. 


God has confirmed to us that this is the direction for us. 


He has shown Himself in the details already. I know He'll continue to show up even on the days that I don't want to.  


He'll change me, remake me, refine me again. It won't be comfortable. It won't be easy. Life will change. Life will look different. Life will be harder in some ways. 


I will be forced to learn to die to myself again and again and be more like Christ. 


But is that really such a bad lesson to have to learn and re-learn? 


Someone once defined courage like this. Courage is not the absence of fear, but the willingness to move forward in spite of it. 


It's the way God calls us to live. 


"Be strong and courageous....The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Deuteronomy 31:7 - 8


Heather 

No Pride...

I've come to the conclusion that I must have no pride. 


I really am not easily embarrassed. I blame that on my dad. 


When we were growing up he did all sorts of strange things with us in public just to desensitize us what anybody else thought of us. For example, if we were at the mall, he would coax us to sit down on a display and pretend we were one of the mannequins. Or we would walk around and speak in various accents...British, Spanish, Russian, Hillbilly...you name it. He might break into song at random while we waited in line at a restaurant or walked through a store. We just never knew what he was going to do next. And we learned not to care what anybody else thought and just enjoy joining in. 


The result of this curiously fun upbringing is that I don't have an interest in the opinions of strangers. 


This attitude was particularly helpful yesterday.


M had an audiology appointment at a major university's hospital in our area. The Reverend Husband dropped us off at the front while he began the long and arduous task of finding a place to park. 


M and I made our way into the building and over to the doctor's office. I needed a pit stop before our appointment, and since we were a little early, we headed to the restroom. It was in the restroom that it happened. 


I got one side of my skirt stuck in my underwear. 


I didn't see it. The mirror in the restroom wasn't long enough to alert me to my faux pas, neither did I feel a strange breeze. 


Clueless,  off I traipse, out of the restroom, down the long hallway, past the receptionist's desk and out into the lobby.  


I no sooner opened the door to the lobby than a woman across from me caught my eye and (I think) mouthed the word "Ma'am!" I wasn't sure she was trying to get my attention, so I kept walking through the lobby. 


Thankfully, she got up and approached me and filled me in on the fact that I had given anyone in the hallway, the receptionist, and half the lobby a full on view of my behind. 


What did I do? I thanked her ever so politely and removed my skirt from my undies right there in the lobby. 


Then I gave a little smile and a wave. 


Not really. But the words, "Smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave." from those penguins of Madagascar kept repeating themselves in my head.


And that was it. Incident over.


I don't even think I blushed. 


Thanks Daddy.




Heather

Anxiety

Anxiety bites.


Having some deep unmet need that causes you to be fearful is upsetting to you and those who love you. Watching your children deal with this is disheartening.


One of the more difficult things about the adoption journey is sorting out where certain frustrating or strange behaviors come from. Is this behavior adoption related? Is it normal toddlerhood kind of behavior? Or also, in our case, does this behavior stem from the special needs we know our son has? It's quite a complex maze to navigate at times. It gets discouraging some days when doctors don't know and the questions keep changing as something "new" crops up.


I don't know if it's a neurological aspect of the special needs brain that causes the needs to change, or if it's just a function of our son's particular special needs. At any rate, it makes my head spin some days and some days I want to cry.


Today is one of them.


We seem to cross one hurdle or get one area under control only to find that another one has cropped up somewhere else.


So in this twisted journey of special needs adoption where so much is unknown, here's what I know:


My son was fearfully and wonderfully made by a loving God whose works are marvelous. (Psalm 139:14)


We are to be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and supplication, WITH THANKSGIVING, let our requests be made known to God; and (here's the best part) the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard our hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. (Phillipians 4:6-7).


Life is a vapor. We should not lose heart because our difficulties are for a moment and are working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal. (James 4:14, 2 Corinthians 4:17-18).


In heaven, there will be no hearing loss. No epilepsy. No developmental delays. No Down Syndrome.


And heaven is closer than we think.


If we are believers, our children with these special needs give us a rare and precious glimpse into that future and cause us some days to long for home a little more.


If having children with these needs causes me to devote my life to the service of someone besides myself to the glory of God; if it causes me to long for heaven all the more; if it grants me daily glimpses into the heart of my Father should I only open my eyes to see Him, then these difficulties are worth it.


The difficulties are temporary. Heaven is forever.


Now that's something worth shoutin' about!

Heather

The love of my life...

Once upon a time, a young girl fell in love. 

And though she was completely unaware at the time,

 God was giving her a very special gift.

This guy is....

the love of my life,

the most Christ-centered, 

Christ-like person I know,

patient,

gentle,

passionate,

loving,

committed,

and genuine. 

His heart for his Savior and his family set him apart from all the rest.

This is what a godly man looks like.

I am blessed to call him mine. 

Thank you, Lord for a man that loves You and

 me and the children You've given us. 

I am one blessed lady.

Heather

Ponderings...

I've felt so incredibly blessed lately.


This time last year I was Swaziland, Africa being the hands and feet of Christ to children in great need. Part of me longs to be there now. Life is lived at a different pace there, and so many of the believers we met understand that life is not about living in ease. It's about living in a grace that is sufficient for every situation, every circumstance, every moment of every day. 


It isn't an American christianity to be sure. 


So, this week as I've been through my day to day routine as mama, homeschooler, pastor's wife I've just been a little more thankful than usual that I do indeed live such a blessed life. My life isn't blessed because it's always easy, stress free and doesn't require hard decisions, but because it's full of the really important things in life. 


A loving, personal relationship with the Creator of the Universe whom I can speak to anytime, anywhere. 


I have a beautiful family, built by God, Himself. 


I have the privilege to serve alongside my husband at an awesome church.


I am able to stay at home with my children and still have a roof over my head, food on the table and a car to drive. 


I am so very, very blessed. 


And I am so thankful. 


But I'm also convicted. 


I'm convicted that sometimes I let these blessing lure me into a comfort zone and a routine that allows me to disengage from the culture around me.  I don't have to come in contact with people that I don't know well, who believe differently from me, or who are needy unless I make that choice.


And I'm not sure that's always the road my Heavenly Father would have me walk. 


Recently, I've had the opportunity to be in several public schools. 


Malachi is attending a preschool for special needs children through the public school system. 


Our church has been feeding one of our local football teams prior to games, and the reverend husband has had the opportunity to share a message with the team after these meals...in the public school. 


I mean, in the cafeteria, in the public school. Preaching the gospel. In the name of Jesus. Unashamedly. (But that's another post!)


But each time I'm in one of these schools, I feel absolutely at home. 


At peace. 


Like I belong. 


Not sure what that means. Maybe nothing. Maybe it's just familiarity because I tagged along with my school teacher dad at his school from the time I was small and then taught high school myself for a while before Samuel was born. Or maybe it's because I loved everyday I spent going to a public school (except for the whole sixth grade). 


But I haven't been in a school in 8 years, and I still feel at home there. Truthfully, part of me misses it. 


And as I was driving away from the school today after feeding the team, I passed a mom driving onto campus, presumably to pick up her high school student. 


The look on her face nearly stopped me in my tracks. She looked absolutely lost. She had dull, dead, hopeless, lifeless eyes and and wore an empty expression. 


And I begin to think how different her day to day life must look from mine. And I began to think about how, if I'm honest, I pass any number of women like her on a regular basis. 


And what am I doing to make sure this woman, and those like her, have the chance to hear the glorious, hope-filled gospel of Jesus Christ? Who does she come in contact with that shows her that there is abundant life in a relationship with Christ even when everything going on around us stinks?


She doesn't come in contact with me because, I'm busy living my very sheltered, blessed life. 


It's a real dilemma for me. It probably has been for going on close to a year now. 


I'm not sure what the answer is. 


I have some inklings, but none of the changes I may be asked to make come without a great deal of personal risk. Risks I have been afraid to assume because taking them leaves me largely out of control. 


And I have control issues. 


Don't we all? 


But the wind is a blowin'. And Aslan may be on the move. 


Heather