The Mundane and the Amazing
First things first, I need a new name for the blog. Something catchy that conveys the topic (which is really broad – my spiritual journey, motherhood, social justice, adoption, orphan care, chocolate eating…). But I have no creative bones in my body. Please help me by commenting with your suggestions.
I had such a rejuvenating day today. BB got up early with Freddy, which allowed me an extra hour of sleep, followed by a cold, rainy run and finished off with a cup of coffee and a Bible study. I need to figure out how to start every day that way.
Freddy and I had fun visiting my sweet sister at her nanny job. The little girl (1.5 years old) enjoyed throwing her ball at him and at one point sat on his head. Freddy, of course, remained smiling and unaware.
You can see that Freddy still has quite the affinity for hand-towels and washcloths. Perhaps a job as a bathroom attendant in his future? Or maybe Bed Bath and Beyond?
I had a fabulous lunch with a great friend, also a new mom. A visit from another friend and her sweet girls who entertained the boy and brought peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. Finally, a visit from a friend who cut BB’s and my hair. Her passion for helping victims of sex trafficking spurred on great conversation, and I think I may now know where all my stuff needs to go when we move [in 7 weeks!!!!]. 🙂
All this grace. Undeserved. Who am I to merit such rich relationships with people? Such love poured out on me and my family. If not for the Holy Spirit, I would have never met these friends. These precious people who pray for me, chat with me, bring me cookies, and cut my hair.
My cup overflows tonight. May I never forget such grace bestowed on me.
Explanations
I’m struggling with suffering these days. Not my own, but others. I have family members who are suffering, and I don’t like it.
I am a seriously left-brained person. There’s not an ounce of creativity in me. I am all logic, all the time. I don’t feel things. I think them. And then I overthink them some more. I want to know why. Why does this loving God who I place my trust in allow such suffering to go on? Suffering that seems so arbitrary, so unrelated to anything and clearly not the result of anyone’s bad choices.
I know all the theological answers, but they don’t really answer the question. Most of the time, I am ok with that. I know my place in relation to a holy God. I’m not meant to understand everything. I can only see one small piece of the puzzle. It’s like my dog wanting to understand why she can’t eat at the dining room table with us. I just can’t explain it to her, and if I tried, she wouldn’t get it. She’s a dog. [I’m not saying humans are dogs, just trying to draw some sort of analogy to wrap my brain around the issue.]
But it’s frustrating! I want it to end. I don’t want the people I love to hurt. I don’t want them to doubt that God loves them in the midst of their trials. And I know that my God can stop it.
That is faith. Trusting in something you can’t explain. Going back to the Word, to what I know is true. God loves us. Jesus wept for his people. We are in the midst of a redemption story, but all has not yet been restored and redeemed.
Is it possible?
There’s a lot of press these days about ethical adoptions. A number of new books have recently come out, a documentary is making a nationwide tour, and the DRC has been seeing some ups and downs with its program (maybe other countries too, but I mostly follow DRC).
On one of my FB group pages, a common question is posed: How can we ensure that adoptions are ethical? I love the hearts of the adoptive parents out there. We all want to have ethical adoptions. No one gets into adoption to traffic a child. I personally know parents who have discovered that their adoption shouldn’t have passed muster, and the heartache is great. But is it possible to avoid this? The how is so much harder.
Faced with the difficulty of ensuring an ethical adoption, parents can go one of three ways: give up entirely, go forward in the face of possible shady circumstances, and move heaven and earth to try and do it ethically. There are certainly pros and cons to each approach, and it’s hard to say which is really the right answer. The waters are muddy.
And isn’t that what’s so hard about ethics? Once you are sure that no laws are broken, there’s still an area of gray. Sometimes the answer is unclear.
This is why I am still on the fence about starting again. I don’t want to give up, but I am scared of getting back in the water. I don’t want to screw it up!
As a Christian, I am called to get into the water. All the way to the deep end. Yes, we can’t fix all the problems with international adoption. The whole idea comes out of a broken, messy tragedy. Same with global poverty, world hunger, sex trafficking, war. There are no easy answers. But we have to try, don’t we? Because sometimes it works. Sometimes there is redemption.
And, really, what else do we have to do? Isn’t this why we are on earth? To work towards redemption and restoration. I can’t sit home and just focus on myself and my family. That’s not why I was put on the earth. I have been given so much, and I have a responsibility to use my resources towards this goal of restoration.
It’s scary. It’s hard. I don’t have any answers. But I will keep walking forward in obedience to the One who does.
New Adventures
So BB has the greatest one liners, but I always forget them by the time I sit down to blog. I remember this one though:
BB: You know, babies are a lot cooler than people think they are.
Seven years ago, BB and I had the privilege of visiting our awesome friends S & C in Kigali, Rwanda, by far the most beautiful place we have ever visited. Thus, our love for East Africa was born (we also visited Tanzania and Kenya). When we decided to adopt, we knew it had to be Africa, and we sought to adopt from Rwanda. Just as we were beginning, Rwanda closed to international adoption.
A few years later, here our hearts are drawn back to that small land. Not to adopt, although we are still talking about adoption in our future.
Remember how I mentioned we were doing an even bigger purge of our belongings than the fast of 2012? By July, we will have reduced our worldly belongings to a few suitcases as we will be heading out on a new adventure. We are moving to Kigali!
I’ve accepted a position with an organization (more on this later) to do legal work, and we’ve committed to be there for one year. After that, who knows?
This opportunity will allow me to serve vulnerable children, which was truly the reason we sought to adopt. Of course, as with all such adventures, we know we will be blessed more than we will be blessing.
We are excited and overwhelmed. We are sad to leave our families, but apparently all they care about is Fred. They keep offering to keep him but don’t ask us to stay… It’s a crazy thing to do in many ways, but not as crazy as adopting three kids, I suppose. At least, not as permanent. We can’t wait to see what God has in store for us.
The flavor of the blog may be changing, although I am really excited to learn more about how Rwanda is serving orphans. They have been making that a priority and doing some great things in getting kids out of orphanages and into families. I hope to blog about our life and my work and hope you continue to enjoy reading about it!
Who knows – maybe a picture of Fred with a monkey is in our future!
The Elusive Nap
First, a gratuitous Fred picture.
I’m in a blogging slump, as the four of you who are still reading have seen. I struggle with perfectionism, so unless I can come up with a really witty and thoughtful post, I usually don’t post. I still have so many thoughts about adoption – there have been a few thought-provoking articles lately about Christians and adoption. I also have thoughts on motherhood. But does anyone want to read them? I am drowning in self-doubt.
That’s really my biggest issue these days – self-doubt. I have spent most of my life running from anything that I wasn’t good at and only doing things at which I could succeed. I don’t play games that I don’t win, I don’t try new things. I really hate failing. {side note – who doesn’t hate failing? This sounds a little pompous – oh you other people must love failing, but I just can’t handle it. blah blah.}
I’m pretty much convinced that I am failing as a mother. Fred doesn’t sleep the required amount of time to ensure that his brain actually develops. His poop is green all the time, which either means I’m starving him or he’s dying of a terrible disease. He still sleeps in our bed, which means (a) he will die or (b) he will still need to share our bed when he’s 16. And on and on and on.
I spend 60% of every day trying to get him to sleep, 20% feeding him, and the other 20% worrying about what he’s not doing right. This motherhood thing is basically pure torture that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
Sure, there’s joy. There’s nothing better than his smile and laugh. His smooth, soft squishy skin against mine. His beautiful blue eyes and sweet personality. Of course, I wouldn’t trade that for a few full nights sleep. Seriously, I wouldn’t.
But man, how did I go from a reasonably competent lawyer with multiple degrees, fairly confident in my abilities to being completely brought down to a sniveling puddle of mush by a 16 pound human-parasite? At this point, I barely trust my ability to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich correctly.
I just want to watch a YouTube video that tells me exactly what to do. Or is there some sort of consultant who can come over for the day and tell me how to care for my child? I’m really good at following directions.
It gives me a new appreciation for mothers. I don’t think I ever quite realized the barrage of worries and concerns that comes with this little bundle of joy. I’m not, by nature, a worrier. I don’t care enough about anything to really worry about it. But now! Ugh.
It reminds me of something my sister-in-law said when she was a new mom. The only way you can really sleep at night is to decide that you will survive if your child dies. It’s a morbid thought, I know. But it is true, the child cannot be an idol. Even the child has to be held with an open hand. I can’t stop the hurt that’s coming his way. I can try and minimize it, but I do want him in the battle of life. I want him to become a fierce warrior, able to change the world. But first, he needs to be able to nap.
Fred: 3 months
I’ll probably stop these posts at some point. We can’t spend the next 18 years commemorating every month of this kid’s life. I get that. Feel free to skip this one. I have some more meatier material growing in my brain for next time.
In the last three months, my life has imploded. My apartment is always messy. I rarely eat a meal in one sitting. I haven’t slept for more than 7 hours straight (and that only happened once). I barely remember how to put on make-up. BB and I haven’t had a conversation that wasn’t primarily about poop color.
And yet, my sweet little boy is such a delight. He’s starting to learn how to grab things. He can laugh now. He sees images in the mirror. He is babbling more and more. And he has fat legs. I always wanted a baby with fat legs.
He has a delightful personality. Even when he’s crying, it doesn’t take long for him to smile. And he doesn’t mind when Lucy licks his face.
How are the parents doing? Surviving. Not sure we are thriving. We haven’t gotten a routine down yet. I want him to work less. He probably wants me to stop complaining so much. I am desperate for spring to come to Chicago. We are getting glimpses, but then it drops back down to 35 degrees. I want to fit in my pants and still eat cookies. I want to have time to read a book without cardboard pages and to spend time in the Word.
It’s so frustrating that we can never have it all at once. We want sleep when our babies are young, and we can’t sleep when they are old. We want money when we are in college, and when we get it, we don’t have time to spend it. We want time to travel the world when we are young, and when we have the time, we are too tied down.
Isn’t that just the way it is with God? This world is not our home. We will never be fully content here on earth, and that’s the plan. I need to stop fighting it and embrace it for what it is. Looking forward to the true paradise on the other side.
Used
BB and I are dying to know – is there some sort of study that has proven that babies prefer the sound of the pan flute as opposed to actual orchestration? Why don’t these baby toys just play Beethoven’s Ninth by the full orchestra?
I’ve been warned. Being pregnant, giving birth, nursing, all these things will ruin my body. I’ll be all used up by the time Fred is 6 months old. It makes me wonder, what would I be saving myself for?
I want to be used. My body was designed (in part) to bring forth life. My breasts were designed to provide food. My body is here for a function. Even if it wasn’t child-bearing, my hands are meant to wash, build, create. My feet are to meant to walk, run. My back should be bent. I’m not a priceless work of art, meant only for observation.
Our culture strives to preserve – save your money, use the candlesticks only for special occasions, keep your skin out of the sun, wear rubber gloves, keep your shoes out of the mud. We don’t want to get dirty. We don’t want to be used. We want our bodies, homes, cars, brains, kept fresh until….until what? What are we saving ourselves for?
We are about to embark on another 7-style purge of our home. This one’s going to be bigger, deeper, more painful. I’m scared. I love my stuff. It’s not all materialistic – some of the love comes from the memories the things hold. The warm coat that’s insulated me at the bus stop, the running shoes in which I’ve logged miles, the skillet that has cooked many a meal, the platter given by a friend, the sweater picked out by my mom.
But then I kick myself. Here I’m giving away so many items that I was saving for something special. Why didn’t I use the wedding china more often? Why have I only worn that necklace once? I didn’t know that one day I would be called to give it all up.
Our vats are overflowing, and we build another barn to hold it. Spend it. Use it. This life is fleeting. You can’t take it with you…not in the next life, and sometimes in this one.
We save our money for an emergency. But (as Francis Chan once asked), is it only an emergency if it affects our family?
We save our time like misers. We have to work hard, and we will serve others later. We will have that date night with our spouse next month. We will spend more time with the children once we get this last errand run. What if later never comes?
Spend it. Wear it. Use it. Jesus’ body was broken, used. His blood was shed for us.
He is Risen.
We are in Cincinnati this weekend enjoying this beautiful weather and time with family. Fred did great on the road trip, and I enjoyed my mandatory Chick Fil A milkshake.
I haven’t had a lot of time or drive to really ponder Holy Week. We missed church last week, but I enjoyed BB’s performance of the St. John Passion.
The passion story always brings me to my knees. It’s the real deal. The most powerful series of events on human history and will only be topped by Christ’s almighty return. His body, broken for us. The fulfillment of 100s of years of prophesy. How do I even comprehend a small part of what this means for me and the world?
And the resurrection. The true hope. Our only hope. The hope for the abandoned child, the homeless alcoholic, the young girl in chains, the murderer in prison, the sin-wrought young(ish) mother in Chicago. If Christ is risen from the dead, there is hope of redemption. If He didn’t, we have nothing.
Father, may I never forget from where I’ve come. Dead. By your sacrifice, raised to new life.
Happy Easter!
Water
Last week I was sick. Some sort of stomach bug completely took me out of commission for about four days. As I tried as hard as I could to replenish the fluids that I was losing, I spent a lot of time thinking about how I take access to clean water for granted. I live at a time and in a place where I can use as much water as I want, whenever I want. It never crosses my mind how much of a luxury that is.
Meanwhile, in the real world, men, women and children walk for miles to access a small amount of clean water in the places where it’s even available. 850,000,000 people do not have any access at all. 4,000 children under the age of 5 will die today from disease that could have been prevented by having access to clean water.
What happens to a person without clean water? A nursing mother can’t nurse her baby. A sick father cannot wash himself before caring for his child, and thus passes the disease on to the young. An ill grandmother cannot flush the toxins from her weakened body. A dehydrated child cannot recover after vomiting.
It’s enough to make me sick again.
The amazing thing about this problem, though, is that there is something we can do to change it. There is water available, but wells must be drilled and access must be gained. Lucky for this generation, there are organizations doing this work and making a serious impact.
If you want to use your resources to provide access to clean water for children in the developing world, you can. My two daring (or crazy) friends, Wendy and Anthony, are putting their life on pause for a year while they seek to raise awareness and lots and lots of cash to fund clean water projects with World Vision. They have committed to running 54 miles (yes, in one day) in South Africa this June and raising $1000 per mile.
The work of World Vision is proven to make a difference in the lives of children. We can decrease those deaths and increase access in our generation. Won’t you join us?
For more information and to donate now:
http://support.worldvision.org/goto/anthonyhalpin
http://justonedaychallenge.org/#/home/
Fred: 2 months
Dear Fred,
You are 2 months old today! Time flies. You are pure delight to your dad and me almost 100% of the time. Sometimes, when you pee on your clothes multiple times in a row (like you did for your dad at 4 this morning), we get frustrated, but otherwise, we can’t get enough of you!
You are growing so much. We had to out away most of your 0-3 month size clothes yesterday. You have the most precious little fat legs and perfect belly.
My favorite time of the day with you is your last nursing before bed. Right before, you are in such a sweet mood. Just starting to get sleepy, but still cooing and smiling. Then, while you nurse in the dim light, you look up at me with your beautiful dark blue eyes. I rub your feet and legs under your nightgown until you fall fast asleep.
You like it when we sing to you and read to you. You usually try and sing along with us. Your favorite toy is still Towely, the hand towel that hangs over the counter where we change you. Your eyes light up when you see it moving above your head. You love the book from Ms. Jocelyn called “I Kissed the Baby.” The pictures keep you captivated. You never mind when Lucy licks you head to toe and even give your fingers a nibble.
Daddy takes you on long walks in the cold, and you always fall asleep. He holds you while he sings, and you stare at him mesmerized. He swaddles you by rolling you into your blanket – we call it the “daddy roll-up.” He makes sure you always get your tummy time, and he is teaching you to stand. He loves to see how strong you are.
You recently found your hands and can’t stop looking at them. You can rub your eyes and suck your thumb now. It makes you look so grown up! You are a very social guy. You love to see other people and be held by them. You love to be naked and hate getting dressed. You smile all the time and are always happy to see me.
You are the light of our lives, and we are so happy to be your parents. Every day with you is a wonderful gift, and I look forward to the next one. You are grunting and waking from your nap, so I better stop now. Here’s a sleepy 2 month old picture of our sweet Fred.
8 weeks
Fred peed on my hair today while I was trying to suck a booger out of his nose. Yesterday, a small spec of poo flew into the air and landed on BB’s face. We have lost all dignity in this house.
We are 8 weeks into this crazy thing called parenthood, which makes me an expert on absolutely nothing except perhaps how to do laundry. Nevertheless, I have learned a few things in 8 weeks.
1. It is possible to sustain two human lives on a diet of coffee, cookies, bananas and pretzels, but only for two days.
2. Four hours of uninterrupted sleep turns me into a new woman. Anything under two hours makes me more tired.
3. I can go three days without showering and not notice it
4. Breastfeeding hurts at first. Anyone who says it doesn’t or shouldn’t is a big fat liar. And yes, I am talking about PAIN, not just discomfort (But it stops hurting, and it’s totally worth it.)
5. The pain of your hips spreading during pregnancy is only slightly worse than the pain of them coming back together.
6. Husbands of postpartum wives should get some sort of medal for coming home every day and not drinking themselves into a coma.
7. You feel super skinny for the first month after giving birth, which was awesome!
8. If you breastfeed, you must hydrate like you are running a marathon. Seriously, it’s nothing for me to drink 4 liters of water a day.
9. Streaming Netflix is the best thing the internet has ever given us besides the weather forecast. The West Wing has saved my sanity.
10. I still don’t understand why anyone in her right mind would do this again.
That said, Fred is amazing and adorable and oh so fun. Here are a few pics for your delight. Thanks for indulging me. I’ll get back to writing about more serious topics when my brain starts working again.
Humbled
I had to have a c-section. We had planned a home birth. The Lord has his own ways. Waiting to be taken into the operating room, I was the most scared I think I had ever been. I wanted to run. I had a teeny tiny glimpse of the garden prayer – Lord take this cup away from me. Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.
Going into the procedure, I knew that my prayer would be for humility and submission. Rather than the empowered birth I had planned, I was being called to lie down and submit. Spread out on the table, arms outstretched and strapped down, numb, tubes, completely out of control. This was the exact opposite of what we had hoped for and planned.
I was terrified of the birth – not matter how it was to happen. Everything in the pregnancy had gone well. Fred was perfect from all we could tell. The lies kept coming – it was too good to be true. It would all be taken from me.
Stuck between a truth and a lie. Truth being that God had not promised me a healthy baby, a complication-free birth, survival for another day. God is good, but he’s not safe. He makes promises, but safety, health and security are not included. How do you go into something so important without any assurance of success? How do you not fear the worst? How do you trust an unsafe and dangerous God?
I always cringe when people say things like, Jesus is my buddy, my friend, my partner. While of course there friendly aspects of Jesus, Jesus is not our equal. If I were to see him face to face, I wouldn’t run up to give him a pat on the back. I would be on my face begging for my life. He is Lord of Lord, King of Kings, nothing but complete submission and fear would be appropriate.
He wants me to hold everything with an open hand. I have no choice but to obey. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord. He is wise, and he is good. How can I not follow him?
I’m alive!
Apparently one can make a full-time job out of feeding and changing a human baby. I have not been able to come up for air. It’s a strange life I lead since I spend almost all of my day and night lying on the couch or bed watching The West Wing. It feels like I am doing nothing and yet I can get nothing accomplished (other than keeping a human alive).
Frederick has certainly added a new element of delight into my life. Anything or anyone else who was this demanding all hours of the day and night would have been left out in the alley by now, but his cute little face and soft skin allow him to see another day.
It has not been easy. Physical pain, extreme exhaustion and raging hormones make for a dangerous combination. It is unfathomable to me that people do this more than once and in much more difficult circumstances. I’ve come over the first mountain (meaning I don’t weep every single day anymore), but I know there are more coming.
The Enemy attacked me hard during that first week or so. He knows when we are weak. I thought it would be easier, more natural. I wanted to be a mom so badly and yet when the time came, I was overcome with feelings that it was too much and not a good fit. The lies about who I am and what I capable of still come at me every day, but the Lord has been so merciful and faithful, filling me with his truth.
I have been so blessed with supportive family and friends. We barely ever have to figure out what to eat for dinner. I only recently started doing laundry again. My sweet mother in law mopped the floors on her hands and knees for goodness sake!
I hope to be back to blogging regularly. I’ll leave you with a photo of my sweet boy. Can you even handle the cuteness?
Freddy My Love
It’s a boy! We are delighted to announce the arrival of our sweet son, Frederick David on January 15, 2013.
Frederick (aka Fred, Freddy) is doing great. Born around 2 pm and weighed 8 lbs, 5 oz, 20 inches in length. He is perfect in every way. I am exhausted, sore and completely overwhelmed but totally in love. Who knew something so small could completely annihilate your life (in a good way!)?
BB is adjusting well and loving fatherhood. He is waiting on me hand and foot and now that we are released from the hospital, he is very, very happy. He was not a fan of those nurses and doctors telling him what to do. Also, wi-fi at the hospital was terrible, thus adding insult to injury.
I’m looking forward to sharing his birth story when I am not limited to typing on my phone while he eats. For now, I will leave you with one more photo. I think in this one, he is begging for someone to save him from his incompetent parents.
Flexibility
Can I just say how great it’s been to be (relatively) media-free for a day and a half? My brain feels so much calmer than normal. It’s actually possible to just sit quietly and not stare at my phone. Who knew?
Yesterday (because I wasn’t sitting in front of the computer all day), I read the book of Mark. I’ve also been reading Tim Keller’s book King’s Cross, which goes through the book of Mark. I’m no theologian or expositor on Scripture, so take this with a grain of salt.
I was struck by the plight of the Pharisees. We know they’re the “bad guys.” We look at them and scoff at how they were so wrong. Jesus was constantly rebuking them. They just. didn’t. get. it. I was feeling sad about it – I think because I can so often relate. Here I am in my ivory tower of wisdom, riches, and understanding. I’ve read the Bible times over, I’ve listened to 100s of sermons, I’ve read 100s more books about the Bible and Jesus. I meet with friends to discuss the Word. I can recite the prayers, the hymns, the feast days. I know the “rules.” I try to live a moral life. For all intents and purposes, my life looks a lot more like a Pharisee’s life than it does John the Baptist’s or Jesus.’
After all that, I still so often don’t get it. I still want this Christian life to be predictable. I want to work hard and get blessings. I want to follow the rules and get the reward. I want things to work in a predictable way. I want God to do what I think he should do.
The Pharisees knew the Scriptures that predicted the coming Messiah by heart. They were seeking him. They knew with clarity that they were part of a chosen race and followed the teachings of Scripture better than anyone. The problem was that they were unflinchingly rigid in what they believed the Messiah to look like, and Jesus didn’t fit that. There was no flexibility built into their religion. They had determined a set of characteristics that the Messiah would possess, and they had a limited understanding of the character of God.
Don’t I do that to? I have my list of things that God could never ask of me because it wouldn’t be fair. I have my own understanding of right and wrong, and surely God must follow that. When things are good, it’s God’s blessing, when they are bad, I must have missed the mark. In my mind, it has to work this way. There’s no room for flexibility.
God can’t be limited to my rules and my reading of the Bible. God does not act in ways that are predictable. As my pastor said today, 10 steps in a straight line with God tells us nothing about the 11th step. Of course, God always acts consistent with his Word and his character, but my pea brain doesn’t always put that together.
I’m looking for a King on a throne, but he’s a baby in a manger. I’m cheering for a knight on a white horse, but instead, he’s a lamb led to slaughter. I’m trusting in my knowledge, but Jesus tells me to be like a child. I want riches and fame, but God offers me a heavy wooden cross to carry on my back.
Lord, grant me eyes and see and ears to hear.
Media Fast
One of my favorite months of the Seven fast was the media fast. It was hard. I am pretty addicted to media – tv, music, blogs, Facebook. I don’t like to think that I am. I like to think that I a purist and above getting sucked into media, but it’s all false. It was a great experience to detox and have to quiet my mind and thoughts.
Our pastor gave us a challenge this week to detox from media for three days this week, and I’m excited to accept it! I really need this right now. Since I’ve been away from work, I spend a lot more time on the internet and watch a lot more tv. With Baby Bean’s coming arrival and a few other decisions about the upcoming year on the horizon, a fast is absolutely right for me. I need to hear from God right now. I need the quiet of my mind so that He can speak to me and prepare my heart for this transition.
I’ll be back on Thursday!
Happy New Year!
In what can only be described as a perfect ending to 2012, I spent most of Monday with severe back pain and contractions believing I was in labor only for it to stop abruptly with no baby. Screw you 2012. The feeling is mutual.
I kid, of course. 2012 wasn’t “the year we were introduced to the show 24 (2005)” good, but it wasn’t all bad. We spent a lot of time reminiscing about 2012 – the highs and the lows. You all know the lows all too well, but here are some good moments of God’s blessing and provision (and some good clean fun!).
- We spent an amazing week in TN, AL and MS learning about Civil Rights history and eating BBQ.
- I turned 30 and celebrated with a lovely dinner with friends.
- So many friends had babies that I love to snuggle. And lots of friends brought their children home through adoption.
- We went to a fantastic couple’s retreat in Lake Geneva that ended with a dance party.
- I attended the CAFO Summit conference at Saddleback. [Sidenote: Why can’t God call us to move to southern California? Seriously, the weather there is perfect every.single.day.]
- Baby Bean (previously known by us as Spec and Blueberry) entered our lives and wreaked very little havoc allowing me to ignore him/her for the first 5 months of his/her life.
- We had a visit from our awesome friends, Charles and Amelia!
- BB sang in a bunch of great concerts and operas.
- We had a fabulous trip to Paris after a safe and eye-opening trip to DRC.
- My sweet friends through me a beautiful adoption shower, and out-of-town family visited us.
- I repainted the apartment.
- I had the privilege of walking through difficult adoptions with other friends and providing a listening ear.
- Our friends Tommy and Tracey got married!
- We had a great Thanksgiving with BB’s entire family – the first time we were all together in 5 years.
- We saw Les Mis. And I can’t stop singing the tunes (not sure if that’s good or bad….)
- And of course, we were blessed with good health, a safe place to live, loving families, good jobs, and many opportunities to show God’s love to others.
Not so bad after all. I definitely feel like I was stretched in 2012. My faith took a beating but came out stronger in the end, and I experienced more spiritual growth than I ever have.
So much of 2012 was defined by the fast. It makes sense then that 2012 would be difficult. Fasting isn’t supposed to be easy.
When we were going through the memories of 2012, we kept marveling at how crazy it was and how absolutely stressed out we were throughout the year. We wondered if we could ever do it again. While I would like to say that I want to seek out a more casual, comfortable life to avoid the drama that 2012 brought, I would be lying. Bring it on 2013. Let’s see what you got. I’m ready to get back in the game.
Happy New Year to you all!!
Christmas 2012
I so wanted to post a Merry Christmas picture from us, but we can’t seem to ever remember to charge the camera battery.
We had a really nice Christmas with my family this past weekend filled with food, laughs, more food, some drama, and a home movie. This year, since we were foregoing gifts, my sister and I suggested that we do something fun together instead. I was thinking – go see a movie. My dad decided – make our own movie. Complete with scripts, props, and sets we acted out the movie It’s A Wonderful Life. Yes, it’s recorded. It will be hilarious in about 10 years. For now, it’s slightly embarrassing.
We had a lot of fun doing it, and by the end, we threw out the scripts and were improvising scenes based on memory. My dad hung up floodlights from the roof so that we could shoot scenes outside and hand-painted a grave for Harry Bailey. We don’t mess around.
BB was a great sport after he was cast in the demanding role of George Bailey. He was amazingly wonderful at impersonating Jimmy Stewart. My mom gave an Oscar-winning performance as Ma Bailey, and my sister added some much needed sound effects.
The no gifts for Baby Bean rule turned out it’s fair share of drama on Christmas morning, but we came home relatively unscathed.
I’m not sad the holidays are over. While we did our best to put on smiling faces, I think these were by far the hardest set of holidays we have ever experienced. Three years ago I had a miscarriage a few weeks before Christmas, and while that was not fun, this was so much worse. Earlier this year I swore I would boycott the holidays if I was still childless, and I sort of regret going back on my word.
The holidays are always rough because expectations are so high. You are supposed to be happy! It’s the hap happiest time of the year! You’re not allowed to be sad. If you are sad or grumpy, you ruin it for everyone. You’re a grinch.
This year, I felt an extreme amount of pressure from everyone around me to be happy and excited about the baby. To get over the sadness. People are uncomfortable with continuing sadness and grief. We don’t like those negative emotions. Think positive. Think positive. A silver lining must be found. As soon as this baby comes, all will be well.
Why are we so uncomfortable with these feelings of sadness, anger, grief, fear? It can’t be because they are unfamiliar. Everyone I know has something to grieve over.
The fact is that we are still grieving. No disrespect to Baby Bean, but 2012 will always be about those three babies that we didn’t get to bring home. This Christmas, for us, was a time of mourning. We were supposed to be home with our family of 5. There were three missing cousins at Thanksgiving, and there are empty stockings over our fireplace.
I know that people want us to be happy. They want us to look forward, accept their gifts, talk about how fun it will be next Christmas, but we aren’t there yet. And frankly, I don’t really want to be there. I want it to be ok to be sad. I want people to respect that our broken hearts are still in Congo.
People were upset with us this Christmas because we didn’t want gifts for Baby Bean. I get it. We are weird and not doing things in the way that everyone wants and expects. I get that it’s annoying when people make weird choices that you don’t agree with – I spend most of my life bossing people around.
The fact of the matter is that I just donated the last items of clothing that we had for the kids. We still have bunk beds up because I can’t quite give up the dream that there will be bodies to fill them someday. The room isn’t decorated for a baby. We still call it “the kids’ room.” I just finally worked up the nerve to sort through the photos that my friend took down before we got back from DRC.
The tears are still flowing over here in 2012. 2013 may be different. I can’t say for sure. Does anyone ever really get over a broken heart?
BB memorized Rev. 21:1-4 this year. I love it. I could hear him recite it every day.
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.
Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Come!
We’re still here
Well, the world didn’t end so I’m back to buying toilet paper in bulk.
BB, just in case, worked until midnight to make sure those last few things were finished! Gotta love that spirit. I went promptly to bed because it’s my favorite thing to do. As I was going to bed, I told BB two things in case the world ended. First, that I loved him dearly and enjoyed every minute of our life together and second, that I had no desire whatsoever to survive the end of the world so not to try and save me should the opportunity arise. Seriously, I’ve seen the movies. Who wants to survive that? Do you honestly want to live in a world with no running water or electricity, eating beans out of a can and running from bands of crazed cannibals? No thanks. I’ll go out with the nuke please.
I did spend some time thinking about the end of the world as I was going to sleep. I don’t get into the predictions, but I do believe that God wants us to live as if every day was our last. I was thinking through my life and contemplating any unfinished business I may have.
Ultimately, I fell asleep. But in the middle of the night I awoke in the middle of a vivid dream about confronting our adoption agency. Then I spent about 30 minutes going over the dream and coming up with more things I would say to them if given another opportunity. Apparently this is my unfinished business.
I think the latest obsession comes from some phone conversations with another mom about her families’ issues with One World and then also I’ve started organizing all the photos of the children to put in storage. I am sad because I so want to be over it. I desperately want to forgive and move on. I don’t want this bitterness to take root. At the same time, it’s necessary to stay in the fight. I truly think God is uniquely using me to advocate for other families and children, to educate people and to encourage change. I love it, and I’m grateful for the privilege. But it’s hard to re-live the drama over and over again.
I ended up being able to sleep once I started praying. I may not be able to quite reach forgiveness and freedom yet, but I can pray for it. God has his work cut out in softening my heart.
While it would have been nice to wake up this morning in the presence of Jesus, the Lord has other plans. There’s still work to be done and so we are still here.
Christmas Preparations
How is it possible to be hungry every minute of every day?
BB has just 1.5 days of work left for 2012, and I am so ready for him to be on vacation! [I’m sure this sentence fills him with terror and worry that I have “plans” for him. Don’t worry honey….just a few.]
On Monday, Lord willing, I will technically be full-term in my pregnancy, meaning Baby Bean can come. Baby Bean and I have agreed that he will stay put until January…at least until January 7. We don’t need anymore surprises around this house. Can one thing go as planned, please? Just one thing! Great, now I’ve certainly jinxed myself.
We are spending Christmas with my family. I’m looking forward to baking all day on Sunday and then eating all day on Monday and Tuesday. No gifts this year, but we have a special surprise project. I’m sure I’ll have some good stories for you next week about how it goes.
What am I baking?
For Christmas Eve dessert – Marbled Pumpkin Gingersnap Tart (Smitten Kitchen)
For Christmas morning – Blueberry Cornmeal Butter Cake (Smitten Kitchen) and Chocolate Coffee Cardomom Bread (http://www.artisanbreadinfive.com/2012/12/04/chocolate-coffee-cardamom-bread-and-a-contest-giveaway)
Jealous?
I’ve been trying to make some plans for January so I don’t just sit on the couch wondering when Baby Bean will come for the entire month. I’ve also been saving a few fun projects and just got a copy of Rachel Held Evans’ Year of Biblical Womanhood (http://www.amazon.com/Year-Biblical-Womanhood-Liberated-Covering/dp/1595553673/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1356033400&sr=8-1&keywords=year+of+biblical+womanhood), which I cannot wait to read!!!
We still have to decide Baby Bean’s name. I have a feeling we will be discussing that in between contractions since we can’t seem to want to commit right now. We are pretty aligned on a girl name, which can only mean that Baby Bean is a boy after all.
Hope you all have a very Merry Christmas!
The Evil in My Heart
I’ve had about 10 different types of blog posts in my head since last week’s shooting tragedy. The internet has been on fire with everyone’s thoughts that part of me wants to stay out of it because so many beautiful and thought-provoking things have already been said. What can I possibly add? But on the other had, this is where I process, and since I can’t stop thinking about it. I need to process.
I have particular selfish reasons for hating when these things happen. Immediately, my brain thinks about the horrible person who committed the crime, which then triggers in me a righteousness. Who would do such a thing? What kind of messed up person has such disregard for human life?
It only takes moments for the Holy Spirit to softly whisper (sometimes not so softly) the answer. You.
No, I don’t have any propensity to shoot up a school. I don’t harbor murderous thoughts about innocent people. But in my heart lies the same utter disregard for human life that lay in the killer’s heart. I need look no further than my own apartment to see someone who couldn’t care less about dying children.
You see, I don’t pull the trigger, but I make the choices and turn my eye. I cozily slink into my warm bed at night, stressing about what gourmet meal to make for dinner tomorrow night with nary a thought for the 25,000 people who will die of starvation today. I step over a homeless veteran on my way to buy a $5 latte because it’s delicious. I agonize over which designer diaper bag would go best with my wardrobe instead of spending $10 on a bed net that would actually save one of the children who will die every 60 seconds from malaria – a preventable and treatable disease.
It’s not guilt. It’s conviction. Guilt is worthless. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. It’s not my fault that evil exists in the world, but if I can do something to stop it, shouldn’t I? Conviction moves us to action. Knowing that my actions are wrong, repenting and trusting in the Holy Spirit to reform my ways makes real change.
You will say, cut yourself a break. God wants you to enjoy life and have fun. We can’t spend all our energy on serving others. I’m not so sure. Yes, there’s a time for celebrating, but haven’t I celebrated enough? Haven’t I had 30 years of feasting? Didn’t my Year of Jubilee end many years ago? When is the time that I start to say no? When will I truly begin to change my ways and live for Christ instead of myself? What will it take? How many more people will die while waiting?
If it’s real, then what do I have to lose? If I worship a God who came as a man to save the world from sin, who raised people from the dead and calmed the sea, and it’s all true, what am I so afraid of? If paradise waits for me, then why do I care so much about making this life paradise? Kay Arthur tells a story of a Christian man in prison. The prison was cold, but he had a blanket. Another man, badly beaten, was placed in his cell, but he didn’t have a blanket. The Christian man knew that without the blanket, the man would die (just as he would die if he gave it up). The Holy Spirit spoke to him, saying that if he died, he would be with Jesus, while if the other man died, he would go to hell since he did not yet know Christ. The Christian man gave up his blanket and died. The other man survived and lived to tell the tale of his sacrifice.
I am holding onto my blankets while people are dying because I want to live another day. Not only do I just want to live, but I want to live in all the comfort that I possibly can. Once I have it all, once I have everything I could possibly need, then maybe I will spare a blanket, but only if it’s easy.
I want to be Esther, saying If I perish, I perish.
The truth is that I my heart is so much closer to Hitler’s, Bin Laden’s and Adam Lanza’s than it is to Christ’s. It’s not even a contest.
This is Christmas. This is why Christ came as a baby in a manger. To save me from my sin. He knows my heart and knows that without him, I am doomed to death. He came that I might have life and have it more abundantly. He came to set me free from sin so that I can love others freely. Through his birth, death and resurrection, I can have a new life that’s not marked by this evil. Thank you Jesus for coming and saving me from myself.
Unto Us a Child is Born
I finally figured it out. Apparently I must have eaten some sort of small alien super-mouse, who is now grown to be about 6 pounds and is trying to claw his way out. This makes a lot more sense than me being pregnant and explains a lot of what’s been going on. I’ll let you know when he escapes.
Who’s ready for Christmas? We watched National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation last week so I am. Since we are going gift-free, this is basically a stress-free holiday full of lots of cookies and Christmas music. Highly recommended.
Speaking of Christmas music, apparently BB was not actually born in this country or somehow grew up somewhere Christmas music is hated. He’s supposed to sing Christmas music at an event on Saturday, and this morning he asked me to teach him the melody of the song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” I am still flabbergasted. Whoever is waging that War on Christmas must be quite proud of himself!
I’m looking forward to the holiday distraction myself. Getting a little restless over here. In some ways, I’m in the home stretch of meeting this little peanut and yet at the same time, it is still a far way away. I need a deadline to work. Not that I want him to come any sooner because we all know what happens when a baby comes – everything is awful. There’s crying and pooping and crying and no sleeping. Lord help me. This baby better be darn cute. I’m really counting on being able to keep my daily nap schedule and to watch The Wire. Apparently this makes me mildly delusional.
Thus, I have started my “to do before baby” list, which so far includes: hair cut, be extra nice to BB, pedicure, see Les Mis, clean apartment. To be fair, clean apartment has been on every to do list I’ve ever made.
I need a few good fiction books to read during this last push, so feel free to send me your recommendations. I just returned “Lionheart” by Sharon Kay Penman to the library having only read 2/3 of it over the past month and a half. I usually devour her books, but this one just didn’t capture my attention. I have a number of non-fiction books on adoption, sex trafficking, the Holy Spirit, and marriage on my shelf, but none of those are drawing me in at the moment either. I need fiction. Yummy, colorful, fanciful fiction.
Leaving you with my Advent meditation verse for the day:
For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given: and the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His Name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince Of Peace. Of the increase of His government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his Kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with Judgment and with Justice from henceforth even for ever. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will perform this. (Isaiah 9:6-7)
Love that it’s “unto US.” Jesus is God’s gift to us.
Also love that Jesus came to establish judgment and justice. Feeling a real need for that in 2012. I keep hearing more stories from other One World Adoption families about trials they are facing in their adoptions, and it just makes me so angry. It’s so heart-breaking for the children and families. God’s justice will be done, and I have to take comfort in that. No one gets away with anything even if we don’t see the justice done.
Hope your holiday preparations are going well.
Happy Birthday BB!
Saturday was BB’s 35th birthday. Unfortunately for him, I was up all night sick on Friday night, and sick and pregnant trumps birthday every time. He says it was his favorite birthday ever because no one required him to do anything, there were no plans, and he got to do whatever he wanted [which was work and watch Parenthood]. So noted for next year.
In other good news, Christmas music and movies are fair game now that we are past the birthday.
Now that I am recovered, I can write my birthday blog post. In honor of my sweetheart, here are 35 unique things that I love about him.
1. See opening paragraph. His birthday dream is for no one to talk to him so he can work all day.
2. If given his way, he would eat all his meals over the sink in the kitchen without utensils or plates so as to avoid having to do dishes (or talk to anyone – see no. 1, no talking is a big thing for him).
3. He packs his lunch (and often dinner) every day of the week.
4. He needs to eat at least one serving of peanut butter a day (preferably more).
5. He has the will power of a Navy Seal. I don’t think he cheated once in seven months of fasting and would have kept going if I had let him.
6. Sweets are not his thing. He will eat one bite of an ice cream sandwich and then out it back into the freezer. Thus, it will take him two weeks to eat one ice cream sandwich. He will often look for something I baked weeks later and be shocked that there is nothing left.
7. He rides his bike to work. I find that adorable.
8. He ran the Chicago marathon in tiny hot pink shorts so that it would be easy for me to find him.
9. The first CD he ever bought was Lionel Richie’s “Hello” because he had a crush on a girl, and the song Hello made him think of her.
10. He’s still basically only wearing seven items of clothing and hasn’t purchased a single thing for himself since the fast began in February.
11. He’s ridiculously smart, but he hates to read.
12. When he works from home, he wants me to sit next to him (but not talk, obviously).
13. Two years ago he led a week-long VBS at our church as the lead singer of a New Zealand rock band (we were into Flight of the Concords that year) complete with accent, and there are still people at church who think that he is from New Zealand (or England – people aren’t great with identifying accents).
14. When we went on our first date, BB said we needed to discuss two things before we went any further as a couple – first, I would have to take his last name should we marry, and second, I would need to be ok with our nine year old son spending two weeks at summer camp in Maine. I agreed to both since I liked the idea of having a new name and wasn’t particularly attached to our fictitious kids at the time. [Luckily I don’t have to worry about the camp thing any more since there’s no way BB would spend that kind of money on camp now even if we ever had it!]
15. Also when we were dating, BB’s friend Steve (the Prophet, as we call him) prophesied that I would break his heart. BB was quite distraught and got him to change the prophesy to “break his heart or marry him.” Both have come true.
16. When going on vacation, especially international trips, BB refuses to make any reservations for lodging until the last possible moment (i.e., we are tired and need somewhere to sleep). He really does not like to commit to reservations for anything. This has made for some fun times, to be sure.
17. Oh my. Only halfway through. This was sort of a big goal, eh? It took BB three months to read the first Harry Potter book because “he just couldn’t get into it.” What is wrong with him??
18. BB has an opinion about everything. Seriously. The words “whatever, I don’t care” have never come past his lips. Seriously, ask him about clothes, shoes, furniture, work, church, food, surprise parties, pets, child-rearing, breastfeeding, weddings, hair length, coming of age movies. He has a formed opinion about anything you can think of! It’s frustratingly charming.
19. BB lives a charmed life. He can leave late and arrive on time. He can miss a deadline to learn that it was extended. He can lose $10 and find $20.
20. He has a Facebook account, but I am not his friend.
21. He believes in me to an unreasonable level. I’m starting to believe him, and it’s getting risky.
22. He is an amazing uncle. He will play with his nephews for hours on end, is determined to learn about them, and has written songs for two of them so far (the rest are in the works.)
23. He never gives up. He will work on a project until it’s perfect. He sees the best in people and truly believes that they will reach it.
24. He loves Jesus. So much. His submission to God is commendable. His love for the Lord pours out in his love of others.
25. If he really has to hang out with other humans, he would prefer them to be homeless and/or immigrants.
26. He cooks, cleans, mops, does laundry, walks the dog. But he will NOT go to the grocery store. He would rather starve. In the extreme circumstance where I convinced him to go (I think I did once), he refused to take a list because “it’s like you’re telling me what to do when you’re not there.”
27. He has a lovely singing voice. Still makes my heart melt after all these years.
28. BB has fiercely close friendships (although you wonder how since he prefers to not talk to people…). He still has extremely intimate friendships with guys from growing up, high school and college.
29. He once tried to compliment me by saying that I looked like a Jordache ad.
30. He was kind of a chauvinist when I met him [he would tell people that he married me for my “young womb”], but now he’s a total feminist and will tell you why it’s wrong to ask a woman to cover up while she’s breastfeeding and why there’s nothing wrong with boys wearing pink.
31. He has endless energy and is always up for the wackiest of ideas. He’s creative and spontaneous. Always keeps me on my toes.
32. BB is so kind. He couldn’t hurt a fly. He has a sweet spirit and loves to do things for people.
33. He is hilarious. Makes me laugh every single day.
34. He’s super hot. It’s not everything, but it goes a long way.
35. He loves me just the way I am.
My darling BB, I love you dearly and am so glad you were born. Halfway to 70! Not bad…
Humbled
It’s official. I have a problem. The first step is admitting it. I am addicted to chocolate. I think Baby Bean is also addicted to chocolate, which explains why my addiction has escalated over the past months. Chocolate totally grossed me out during the first trimester, and I had hoped that maybe the love wouldn’t come back so fiercely. Alas, not to be. The only thing that’s keeping me from eating three candy bars a day is the knowledge that slaves are used to harvest cocoa. Unfortunately, there’s such thing as fair trade chocolate.
I don’t think I can move on to any other steps except admitting that I am powerless over this addiction and not ready to change it.
Remember when I didn’t eat chocolate for an entire month? That was hard. There were times I didn’t think I would make it. I wanted to quit so badly. Well, I have a friend about to start the 7 fast in January. Pray for her (and those fasting with her). You can follow her journey here:
http://diveintoseven.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-gentle-pull.html
I love that there are nutty people out there trying to really live the gospel. I’m so challenged by these amazing friends. Another friend was telling me yesterday about how she and her two daughters had breakfast with a homeless woman on Sunday. What a blessing to her daughters, to model such love.
My other sweet friend met a former stripper last week and is taking her to a Bible study with Eve’s Angels (http://www.evesangels.org/) tonight. (I was supposed to go with but this baby keeps disrupting my sleep making me turn into a zombie around 6 pm! Argh. Maybe next time…)
Between these ladies and my adoptive-mom friends and so many others, I am humbled. Yes, there’s more to do. There’s so much hurt and suffering in the world, but there is hope shining through. God is working, and it’s awfully fun to watch.
Go Kat! We can’t wait to hear what you learn from 7. Enjoy those Christmas cookies while you still can.
Amanda
Delighted in the Lord 