Unreasonable....

Last week I had a doctor's appointment. 

Without going into a long, drawn out history of our infertility struggles, suffice it to say that Brad and I have lost two babies to miscarriage and I just haven't gotten pregnant in a long time. 

Last year, my doctor wanted me to try some medication aimed at improving my chances of becoming pregnant since Brad and I have always been, and still are, open to having babies the old fashioned way. 

I tried the meds for a short time, didn't like the way the made me feel and stopped taking them. I had all intentions of calling my doctor and speaking with her about it. But I went to Africa and came home to discover our child had hearing loss and so began that journey....

So, fast forward and I'm sitting in the doctor's office again and she has something remarkable to say to me. Quite a different tune than she was singing last year, mind you. Nothing has changed. I'm just not taking the meds she wants me to take.  

Last year she was all hopes and smiles about how effective this medicine could be for me. Told me I'd probably be pregnant in just a short time. Etc..etc.... 

Then last week, she looked me in the face and told me that given my difficulties getting pregnant in the past several years, it was UNREASONABLE for me to expect that I would ever get pregnant again, with or without medication.

Is that so Doc? 

Hmmmm. 

Tell me then...

When I took the test that showed I was pregnant with Samuel, I got down on my face in the floor of my bedroom and prayed that God would give me that baby.  I heard my Father speak directly to my heart and say, "His name is Samuel." Turns out Samuel means "asked of God," and wouldn't you know it 9 months later I had a baby boy. I knew he was a boy the day I took that pregnancy test, because of what God spoke to me. Does any of that sound reasonable? 

How about this one...

Several years later when I am pouring my heart out to God in my frustration and hurt over being unable to conceive like all my friends, some of whom were expecting twins, God spoke to me again through Psalm 20:4 which says, "May He give you the desire of your heart." He spoke directly to me again and told me that was a promise for me. Fast forward 3 years. I'm in Ethiopia and the day is April 20th, 2009. The faith journey of the adoption process is about to culminate in the meeting of our new son in just a few short hours. I'm reading the Bible, and since it's my habit to start with the Psalm that corresponds to the day's date, I open my Bible to Psalm 20.

There it is. My promise. And there I sat, half a world away, about to claim it. 

Does that sound reasonable? How about the fact that someone gave us, no strings attached, the $20,000 that made that adoption possible? Does THAT sound reasonable?

Does it sound reasonable that we've been able to sell two homes in just a matter of days when God has said it was time to go? One was in the present market, with new homes under construction all around us in the same subdivision. Is any of that REASONABLE?

We began the process to bring Zach home in May without the money in the bank to do it. In 3 months time, half of it has come to us....again in the form of a large gift with no strings attached. Is any of THAT reasonable?

My God isn't reasonable. He is Almighty. 

He doesn't deal in the reasonable. He deals in the miraculous.

He is able to do exceedingly, abundantly above all that I can ask or even imagine. (Ephesians 3:20)

I don't need your hope and smiles Doc. My hope isn't in you, and it certainly isn't in some little pill.  

I've seen the unreasonable become reality. More than once. So, don't tell me that it's unreasonable for me to think I could ever get pregnant. 

Go sell that somewhere else. I'm not buying. 

Whether I'm ever pregnant again or not is dependent on one thing, and one thing only. 

The will of my Father...not it's reasonableness. 

And I'm content whatever turns out. I am a blessed woman with two, soon to be three, beautiful sons. Whether God gives me more through the blessings of birth or adoption is up to Him. 

He is the one who builds families. 

In His way and His time. 

And you can hang reason. 

"But Jesus looked at them and said to them, 'With men this is impossible, but with GOD ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE.'" (Matthew 19:26) 

Heather 

The Homeschooling Blues

If the fact that we are conservative christians who feel called to adopt special needs orphans from the uttermost parts of the earth doesn't quite make us weird enough, we also homeschool.


 I know.


 Really. 


Who's surprised? 


We really try hard to go out of our way to fulfill the stereotypical image of conservative, evangelical Jesus freaks. 


But, hey. It's who we are. 


Or rather Whose we are that makes us this way.   


And we're unashamed. 


And at least, I haven't traded my shorts in for a "skirts only" wardrobe and let my hair grow past my behind, though I love the Duggars and all they stand for. 


No, I'm afraid I lean more toward the funky dyed hair, pierced nose, and (gasp) tasteful tattoo end of the spectrum. But I'm afraid to get my nose pierced or a tattoo because my mama disapproves. And I'm pretty sure she would spank me. 


But this post isn't about tattoos, dyed hair or pierced noses. It's about homeschool.


I love it AND I hate it. 


I love having my children around so that I can intentionally and thoughtfully instill in them our family's values throughout the day without having to try and squeeze it in on Sundays  or between music lessons, dinner and football practice.  I love reading real books by great authors like Treasure Island, Little House on the Prairie, Tom Sawyer and The Red Badge of Courage while my guys snuggle with me on the couch. I love seeing the light turn on in their eyes when they've learned something new and wonderful. 


But I HATE the constant struggle to balance managing a home, nurturing relationships, caring for my special needs child, partnering with my husband in ministry, and washing the dadgum underwear. Nevermind having time to take care of myself. I hate that it almost takes an act of Congress for me to get out of the house to have a hair cut, go to the doctor, or have dinner with my best friend (another too busy pastor's wife and homeschooling mom). I have to coordinate the schedules of at least 5 people just to do that, sometimes more. I feel like a jack of all trades and master of none. I don't do anything well. Corners get cut everywhere in an attempt to get it all done. And my nerves can get very frayed. In those times, the "me" my family gets is no gift at all. 


And I long to simplify. 


Some parts of this life I chose. Other parts were chosen for me. 


The last 7 homeschooling days have really stunk. We've had one good day. 1 out of 7 is 14%. Never in the past has it been this hard so early on. 


And I've been struggling over how much to really expect from myself. Is it really reasonable for me to expect that I can juggle managing a home, raising children (some with special needs), being a pastor's wife, AND educating my kids? Each one of those is a full-time job on its own. 


I ask myself if I continue to homeschool because, in some twisted way, I think it's what the truly spiritual and selfless do? Because I want to be in control? 


I can tell you that I am fearful of public school and what it could do to my children. But I'm fearful of what my overwhelmed state of mind can do to us as well. 


I'm fearful of the adjustment period when we bring another special needs child home. We've walked that road before and it was HARD.  We're going in with eyes wide open this time, expecting the worst and hoping for the best. I don't want to start out in that challenge already frazzled and fatigued. For me, that's a recipe for depression. And depression is some ugly junk. 


So, pray for me if you think about it. I love my God and I love my family.  I want to do the very best job I can for my family for the glory of my Savior. My Savior and my family are the reasons I live.  But sometimes the answers aren't black and white. 


My Superwoman cape is feeling a little tattered. 


Heather

Frustration...

Today has been one frustrating day.


M had an appointment with the neurologist. Again. I really know our neurologist better than I wanted to. In fact, I never wanted to know a neurologist. Not as a patient anyway. Or the parent of a patient. But anyway.....<sigh>. 


He's a nice guy, our neurologist. His mom worked with my dad. Both were teachers. He comes from good stock, I guess. Smart guy. 


But he isn't God. 


He doesn't have the answers we need or want about why M can't or won't sleep well. 


We know M has seizures in his sleep. We've tried 3 anti-convulsants. Nothing works...not consistently anyway. 


Now they want us to give him an anti-psychotic. 


His mama can't do that. He's 3. 


He isn't mentally ill. He isn't autistic. This particular drug has been approved for use in schizophrenics and autistic children older than our little guy. Not for sweet, energetic, happy 3 year olds that have seizures in their sleep and can't stay asleep. 


I am just so frustrated that we travel all over to see all the professionals that the professionals tell us to see. We try the medicines. We get the equipment. We have the therapies. And they don't have any real answers. They can't tell us why M has seizures in his sleep. They can't tell us why he can't hear well. They can't tell us if he'll catch up or remain developmentally delayed. They can't tell us if he has an overarching neurological disorder. They can't tell us what to expect in the future. And, sometimes it feels like we're no further down the road than when we started all those months ago. No one really knows much of anything. The experts don't have the answers. They just want us to see more experts. 


Next up has been the recommendation for genetic testing. 


Geez Louise. 


I wonder if his genes will show that our little guy was born, most likely prematurely, in the 3rd poorest country in the world to a malnourished mother who looked for work and had to abandon the baby she couldn't feed.  I wonder if his genes will show that he spent the first year of his life in an orphanage with a rotation of nannies trying to care for too many babies. Or will the geneticists, after learning he was born in Ethiopia, ask me for the name of the hospital where he was born, as another professional (with a phD no less) did, and reveal their utter ignorance? 


Will his genes show that in all his educational testing the one and only area that tested at or ahead of age level was his coping skills? The psychologist praised his coping abilities while this mother's heart broke at the realities of life that caused him to develop such extraordinary coping skills. 


Will they show his great capacity to love, to forgive, to laugh, or his love for music and rhythm? 


Or will they just give him a label? 


Honestly I don't know what to think. In so many ways a label would be helpful. But it seems unfair to slap a label on my little guy and define him by it.  


Ultimately, M is who his Creator made him to be. How do you label the creative mind of God? 


Dare we label it and call it defect? 


And still, I'm so frustrated with the lack of answers, the lack of real knowledge from the professionals and yes, the lack of sleep. 


Today has been frustrating. 


Here's hoping for a better tomorrow and the wisdom and spirit to move forward in the dark. 


Heather 

Thinking Outside the Box....or in it....

There are times that we wonder just what is going on in that little head of Malachi's. We don't really have a good grasp on what his cognitive abilities are just yet. And who knows his future will look like? It doesn't really matter though because he is wonderful just the way God made him. 

Our God makes no mistakes. 

But in our world everyone has to have a label. Down Syndrome, cerebral palsy, developmental delay, autism, hyperactive...These are just a few of the special needs labels that children can be given. 

I suppose it's educational on some level to have a name or diagnosis for a child's special need, but I, for one, believe we should think less in terms of what someone is NOT able to do and appreciate them for what they CAN do. 

Our differences are what makes each of us a unique creation of a loving Father. 

But that's just me. 

The whole educational system is set up to label children that don't fall within the range of what some professional or group of professionals has labeled "normal." And they will start with the labels as soon as your special needs child turns three years old. That's right. Three years old. Because three years is such a long time to grow and develop in this big old world and you really ought to have learned how to do a thing or two by then. Nevermind how or where you got your start in life. 

Now if it just so happens you can't do what all the "normal" three year olds can do, well then, you're labeled "special" and you need some really intense therapy and help to become more "normal." And our big, old, sweet, government school system is just happy to provide all this help early on for you. This is all done in the name of early intervention, but I have my doubts about what the real goal is and the driving philosophy behind it. Differences aren't really appreciated when you're trying to churn out products that think alike, look alike and hold to the status quo. Not to mention, those among us who aren't "normal" often require special attention and more effort to educate. And well, that can get to be awfully burdensome and expensive.  

Our little guy IS different, and he IS special.  His needs are very real. But, so is the joy he brings. Where the rest of us see furniture, he sees percussion instruments. And where the rest of us see just a Happy Meal box,  he sees a fancy hat. He sees life through a different lens. Thanks to him, we do too.  And we are very grateful for a little perspective. 

Heather 

An Awesome God....

.....sets the lonely in families...

....gives you dear, sweet friends made half a world away...

....and creates the days that you get to spend with your kindred in spirit....

We were so blessed to get to spend the last week with precious friends from too far away in a beautiful house by the ocean. We praise God for knitting our families together. Our friendship was an unexpected blessing, something beautiful from the sometimes difficult road that adoption can be.

Thanks guys... We love you. 

And just in case anyone wonders what two conservative, Christian, adoptive mommies do when we get a little girl time away....

.....we get henna tattoos. (...'cause we're a little crazy and free in Christ that way... and our husbands' won't let us have real ones...yet ;) 

Heather

Storming the Gates...

If you spend time in the adoption arena, you will quickly find there is an overwhelming amount of information out there. Books, classes, webboards, blogs. Opinions abound about the how-to's of raising adopted children.

Very little of it is helpful.

Being someone who has read A LOT about adoption, let me say very few of those sources paint an honest picture of the adoption road. Too many gloss over the really hard stuff.

There is a book that is different. Refreshing. Worth the read.

It covers a very real, but little talked about perspective in adoption - the perspective of spiritual warfare. The name of the book is This Means War: Equipping Christian Families for Fostercare or Adoption by Cheryl Ellicott.


Can I be very honest?

We are absolutely certain that God led us to Malachi's adoption. He confirmed that in numerous miraculous ways while we in the process, not the least of which was a gift of the exact dollar amount we needed to bring him home.

Yes, someone gave us $20,000.

No strings attached. No expectation of repayment. No instructions concerning it's proper use. Just a gift.

They didn't know how much money we needed for M's adoption, or even where we were in the process. I'm not sure they even knew we were in the process at that time. It was a total God thing. God brought Malachi to us. He hand picked Malachi to be our son and provided every resource to make that happen. Gods's hand was present and obvious.

But even as wonderful and amazing as those facts are, the adjustment of being the adoptive parents of this child made for the most difficult 12 - 18 months either of us has ever faced.

Adoption will bring up issues in you that you didn't realize you had. It will shine the spotlight on ugliness in your heart you had no idea existed there. It will stretch you and challenge you emotionally, physically and spiritually. There will be times you wonder why on earth you ever did this to your family and yourself. You will swear you have made the worst mistake you ever made and that all you want is your former life back. You may suffer from depression. Your marriage and family relationships will take a huge hit while everyone adjusts to the new reality.

Adoption isn't easy. Not in the least.

And no one talks about that part. It's mostly fluff and love. Occasionally someone will say "Love is not enough." But so few tell why.

For a long time I personally wrestled with the roller coaster emotions that our adoption caused in me. Everyday I wanted to scream, "Stop the ride! I want to get off!"  I couldn't wrap my brain around why it was so hard.

Then I read the book. I ran across it completely by accident. (Accidental on my part anyway.)

After I read it, I wanted to climb up on my roof and shout a big "THANK YOU!!!!" at the top of my lungs. I finally got it. And I felt validated.

Christian adoption is a spiritual battle for the hearts and souls of children. These children often come from families who have been locked in chains of spiritual bondage for generations. Christian adoption storms the very gates of hell and attempts to take back what the devil has stolen. When you engage in this work you make the enemy very angry.

I've been reminded of it again this week as I have battled discouragement, lies, fatigue, and more "experts" with no answers.

I know what has brought on this attack. It is the seriousness with which we are pursuing the next adoption and the hope we have of some spiritually refreshing time away next week.

But my God is greater, and my trials are temporary.

And I'm not backing down.

Heather

For God So Loved the World...