While we wait...

In case you missed it, our family is growing! You can read about it here. And we are merely waiting for the ICPC to be cleared so we can travel to meet him! The last five days have been insanely surreal. Processing the quick decision of the adoption conference, the reality that we will have another child in our family, gathering all the things. Basically...


N E S T I N G


I have become a cleaning machine, an organizing goddess, a KonMari queen. Our trash can was nearly overflowing onto the curb the 24 hours after garbage day. I know myself. I'm going to want to come home to a spotless home, a breath of fresh air from travel and an extended say. I know, I'm crazy. My husband would agree with you. I've made peace with this part of myself. I'm also a packer. We will undoubtedly be packed for a week long stay by midnight tonight. I get it. There is something wrong with me. I also know I'm not going to want to do or be doing anything but chasing kids and snuggling.


Really, though, I think I just need something semi-productive to do while I wait. This time of waiting is my favorite. We didn't have this time with our first adoption. There is certainty and joyful hope in this wait. We wait, not knowing at all when we will leave, but we do know soon. And he is out there. He is real. He is breathing the air. He is laughing and crying and sleeping. And soon, so very soon, we will hold him. It's excruciating! And amazing and overwhelming, and dripping with joy.


So aside from the crazed cleaning lady I've become, life is pretty normal. We wake up, read, play, clean, go out and about...dinner. Except it's completely not normal. I'll find myself doing new weird things -- like registering at Target or Babies'R'Us. I'm literally holding the scanner and just stare at it then laugh out loud. Like, What am I doing here? I have no business here. And the excitement return, butterflies in my stomach just thinking about what we could be doing in a just a couple of days!


There is a buzz in the air. We are waiting, it is coming, and we feel it every second. I CAN'T WAIT!!


We would love your continued prayers. Pray for us as we prepare for this new adventure with all it's joy and adjustment. Pray for our girl -- she is so excited, yet has really no idea how much life will change. Pray for our little guy who is waiting, that this process is kind to him, that the Lord would prepare his heart for the things to come. Pray for the foster family, his birth family, and also the other families weren't chosen, and are still waiting. Pray too for anyone who is coming in contact with the ICPC -- that they feel inexplicably completed to push it through immediately. The offices are open tomorrow and I am praying for an answer by the end of the day!


Thank you so much for your love and support. It is felt, needed, appreciated, treasured, and such a blessing to us as we continue to grow this tiny tribe. We are so grateful for you. Truly we are.

Our Tiny Tribe is G R O W I N G !!!

I'll get to the pertinent info immediately because I know it's all you can think about right now!

IT'S A BOY!!

12 months old

Healthy, Handsome, Absolutely Gorgeous! 

Out of state

(We have not chosen a name yet, we cannot share his current name)

Here's the full story:

As always with this tiny tribe, the story is long with many twists and turns, so settle in if you want all the details! (Or scroll to the bottom to read about our next steps!)

We had been waiting since May 2015 to be matched. Being open to adoption out of foster care as well as domestic infant adoption, the possibilities were almost endless...and so were the potential match calls. Some weeks we'd get information on 4 cases, say yes to 3 cases, and for various reasons out of our control, none of the cases we were matched too. Then there was the failed match in January.

But God is good. So faithful. And His plan is always best. I don't say this lightly, like slapping on a smile and a bumper sticker. No, I say it from the depths of struggle and despair, and hope deferred, and would still shout it even if this post ended very differently. God is so good.

October 2015 || For the past 5 years I've been perusing adoptuskids.org. It's an online database of profiles of waiting children in the United States – with resources, articles, stats. SO much. Anyway...every once in while I check it out to see if any matches come up. I was up at midnight and searched, just to see. And this little sweet face with big brown eyes was staring at me. *swoon* He had my heart and I was in love. I just knew we were supposed to be together. I immediately completed an application and profile form...and at 3 am I submitted them! I began to pray for him daily, multiple times during the day. I prayed for his workers, his birth family, his foster family, and everyone who saw or touched his file. I prayed for the judges. I prayed.

The next day the social worker messaged me and asked for our home study. I did a dance in the dining room with praise hands all the way.

And we waited...and waited...and waited.

And prayed...

At the end of October his file was updated and put on hold – meaning they were done taking submissions and reviewing home studies. Pretty soon they would make a decision. We waited again. Any day now...

November || At the beginning of November I did another search on adoptuskids.org and found a sibling group of 2. So I submitted our profile for them as well. And heard back almost right away asking for our home study to be submitted for review. In two months we had two cases in the works. My prayer has been since that day that we wouldn't have to make a choice. I never wanted to get chosen for both cases and have to make the most impossible decision of my life. Nor did I want to get matched with a baby and be chosen for one of these cases. We committed to saying Yes when we could and prayed that God would figure out the rest.

In mid-November I got an email for the little boy's case worker saying she had been transferred to another office and new social worker would take over his case...she would start the whole process over. My instant reaction was “Of course!! Of course this would happen to us! Nothing with this family is ever simple or easy or a straight line.” But I was reminded in so many amazing ways – chance encounters, messages from friends, sermons (thank you Jason Strand) from people who had no idea what was happening at this point – that God doesn't do His best work in the simple, easy, straight line. God works in the mess, the impossible, the mountains and valleys so we can't say we had anything to do with it. So I trusted that He would figure it out, because I obviously could do nothing but wait.

Thanksgiving…

Christmas…

New Years…

Silence.

We heard absolutely nothing from either worker. I tried to be patient during the holidays because everything basically shuts down. A new year begins and no one wants to start something and have it unfinished at year end. But I kept thinking of these kids who are spending one more holiday season without their forever family.

It was agonizing. We felt more like a “normal” family as we were one year post finalization but through all the celebrations and gatherings I felt like we were so incomplete.

January 2016 || I sent emails to both workers stating our continued strong interest and asked if they needed any more information. And I heard next to nothing. Then on January 11th we were sent into our whirlwind failed match experience which left me completely drained, empty, heartbroken. I was a zombie. A mombie with empty hands.

My mother-in-law asked if I wanted to go to a retreat and said I could be a vendor to sell my hats. When she asked all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and cry. I must have looked just plain pitiful. But I gave a tired yes. And a fire was set ablaze somehow. I was a knitting machine. I made three hats in one day. I made tags, created a logo, started an etsy shop, and made soap. Of all things. I just made and made and made. I have no other reason than that God was working in me, preparing me, restoring me, healing me. Giving my hands something to do while He worked on my heart. And I was back into fundraising mode, for the first time this journey. I couldn't explain it then, but looking back now I knew in my soul something was brewing.

AND THEN...|| On January 20th, two days before the event, one week after our failed match, I got a call from this little boy's social worker. After four months we got a call. Sixteen home studies had been submitted. They narrowed it down to three families. Us and two others. I started crying on the phone, and answered her questions like a babbling idiot, praying all the while God would somehow take the nonsensical words I was speaking and make something good.

In 19 days, on February 9th, there would be an adoption conference and they would make a decision. All his workers, advocates, foster parents, supervisors would gather together, look over the home studies and choose his forever family. I fell to my knees and pleaded with God. “You know the best for him. Open their eyes to the best. Even if it's not us. If not us, YOU are still good. Give us peace.”

I sold soap like a boss before the retreat. I sold soap and hats at the retreat. Looking back I don't know how I did either with all this going on, but hey, God is bigger than me and my frazzled brain.

We kept the information about the meeting close to our chest. My mind was telling me that we had a 33% chance. My soul was screaming HE IS OURS! But I knew it was in God's hands and His plan, though beautiful and perfect, could look starkly different from my desires. About 5 days before the meeting I told our small village to pray. Pray for him, pray for the workers, pray for the foster family, pray for us.

It is no accident I had watched War Room a few months before. No accident I had bought the book Fervent. No accident we watched War Room at the retreat. Prayer. Specific, strategic prayers. I posted them on my mirror. I carried them in my purse. I wrote them on small sheets of paper everywhere. In the past I would have probably binge-watched my way through Grey's Anatomy, again, or Downton Abbey, again. Not that my prayers, by any means, wafted their way up to the heavens and changed the course of the future. No, or, maybe yes? I dont know. But what I do know is that I felt peace. I was held by my faithful, good Father instead of leaning on myself, wanting to take control, or pout. I let go and it was so much better.

THE MEETING || At 10:30 am I got an email from the worker of the sibling group. My heart skipped a beat and dropped at the same time. I prayed, Oh, please don't make us choose!! I opened the email and it said a different family had been chosen within the state. I cried a bit, sad that we lost them too. But I kept thinking, maybe I got the email today, of all days, for a reason. This is part of a bigger plan. A prayer was answered. We don't have to choose.

At 1:00 pm I got a few messages that friends were praying, which is the most amazing thing in the world. I sent the Bea to rest time and played some music. I prayed. I didn't really know what to pray for – just that we'd have peace, this boy would be in the best home, and that God would be glorified no matter what.

At 2:00 our case manager told me her part of the meeting went well. She said she'd let us know if she heard anything. I assumed from our first experience with meetings like this it could be a few days before we heard their decision. Then, if we were chosen I expected another agonizing wait to make it official in court. (With our first we waited two months)

I resigned myself fully to the wait and resolved to be done adulting for the day. I settled our girl in the big bed with a movie and made a little nest for myself at the foot of the bed. I was going to sleep and dream and wait. But first, I had to run into the garage to get the meat for dinner. And then the phone rang...and I missed it!

“...You were picked...” I listened to the voicemail again and again “...YOU were picked...YOU WERE PICKED!!! Before that moment I have never in my life been full on laughing and ugly sobbing at the same time! I danced, I cried, I said a lot of, “WHUUUT”s.

Then I called Jason. He was sitting in his office at work and praying too. I had been updating him all day – the meeting started, Anita said it was good. And I told him the news. “Really? Are you serious?!” I could hear him choking up as tears streamed down my face.

Yes. We have a son and he is waiting for us.

.    .    .    .     .

This is what I learned when I was able to talk to his worker: Right now we have been chosen as his intended adoptive family and will soon take placement as his adoptive placement. There is NO court hearing that needs to take place. Praise Jesus! Only the ICPC (Interstate Compact on Placement of Children), basically the agreement between the two states stating we will take placement and Minnesota will supervise the rest of his placement until finalization. Red Tape. I had to ask her three times – ONLY the ICPC??? Yes. Once the ICPC has cleared we will be traveling to meet our little boy.

Let me just say that again…

Once this piece of paper is signed,

WE WILL MEET OUR SON AND TAKE HIM HOME!

So we wait. Again, but with so much excitement and anticipation I can barely contain myself.  We don't know when we will leave. Could be a week, could be two weeks. We are praying sooner than later!!

Please join us in prayer for this ICPC to get passed lightening fast, that all the workers who come in contact with it will be filled with an unexplainable sense of urgency to get it through. Pray that we prepare ourselves for the travels, as well as the enormous adjustments that will take place, especially our little girl. And pray for this sweet, little, gorgeous little boy who is waiting for us.

We will be in his state for about a week – with all the travel expenses and keeping a preschooler slightly entertained. So please also pray that the Lord will provide everything we need to meet our boy, get to know him, bring him home without a financial burden hanging over our heads. We trust He will provide, He always does. We just don't know how all the time.

Our Failed Match Story

It was a Monday morning. The day we were swept onto the fastest, craziest emotional rollercoaster of this second adoption journey.

Let me just back up a bit here.

We have been actively waiting, meaning our home study is updated and our profile is being shown to potential birthmoms and social workers in the foster care system, for almost 9 months. In those 9 months we have been contacted about 15-20 cases. Of those cases we have said yes to about 10. Sometimes we have to say no because the placement fees are too high, or there are needs that are beyond our capacities, or there are risks that we can't take on. We have to be honest. Brutally honest with ourselves and our worker about our fears, abilities, finances. Completely honest despite our incredible longing for more children, despite the time that has been ticking by, despite our knowledge of our calling to adopt. We have to be honest about every situation. Talk about self-awareness! My goodness.

This "ready and waiting stage" is also hard because it is so unpredictable and the waves are intense. One week we could get emails about 3 different cases, and have to wait a week to hear back about their decision. Sometimes a birthmom changes her mind about the adoption plan. Sometimes DHS has to step in and the baby/child is placed into foster care, for whatever reason. (There really are so many different situations.) And sometimes we could wait an entire month before we are contacted about a new case.  

Every time we say "no" our hearts break a little because we wish we had more finances available, or that we had a wheelchair accessible home, or hundred million things. We so wish we could say yes every time. And I cry and pray over those little ones.

Every time we say "yes" and it doesn't work out, for whatever reason -- another family is chosen, the birthmom chooses to parent, extra fees are calculated and much too high -- we are crushed. I cry and pray over these as well. I remember their due dates, their birth dates. And I will probably carry them with me forever.

And maybe you're wondering why you haven't heard about the 10 cases we have had said yes to? Honestly, sometimes we don't even tell our parents. It's hard enough looking at each other each morning we wait to hear about a birthmother's decision, and to tell him that she chose another family? Heartbreaking. Defeating. (Not that it's a contest by any means and anyone "wins." But defeat. despair, sorrow? I don't know what to call getting some hope knock out of you.) Maybe it's selfish. Maybe it's self-preservation. But sometimes I can only handle one other person knowing our hope and hurt. I don't want to answer the hard questions over and over again. I don't want to get the well-meaning, extra-long comfort hugs at every family event. I would cry. At every hug. At every event. And be the crazy cousin that never stops crying!! Really. And I cry ugly so...we keep it all close and keep moving forward.

And I know God has the best in mind for every one of those little babies, which is probably the one and only thing that keeps my head up and from spiraling into some sort of depression, so we trust Him and know He also is holding our family in His hands. And one day, one day, OUR child will come home to us.

Okay, so we've been waiting for 9 months. And then the email. Our case manager at Legacy of Adoption emailed about a birthmom out of state who had had her baby in December and they needed immediate placement. A stork drop, we in the adoption world call it. A baby boy already born, three weeks old, waiting for his forever family. We said Yes! And waited to hear back from Anita about the birthmom's decision. We didn't tell anyone. Because, I mean, we've been here so many times. Three stork drops before. Three emails exactly like this one -- baby already born, waiting. And three times we've been crushed. So the good man and I talked about what we might do in the off chance (ha) we were chosen (giggle giggle).

And I don't mean to make light of this wait time or being chosen. We were excited. We were thrilled. We were mentally and emotionally preparing to go see this baby. But we were cautious. We were hesitant to throw ourselves with reckless abandon in love with this baby. Because, chances are, as history had taught us, we wouldn't be chosen. And sometimes the only thing you have left to do is laugh at the craziness of the situation. All night we prayed and held our breath. But what if we ARE?

Tuesday morning my phone died. And I had small group so the Bea and I were rushing around the house getting ready. I jumped in the shower and yelled, "Eat your food!" over the sounds of the water. And looked for my comfy pants as I yelled, "Go potty!" across the house. And charged my phone a little while I brushed massive tangles out of beautiful, curly hair. I mean, you know how it goes...

And we ran to the van. In the garage I got a text from Anita that said, "CALL ME!" So I called her while I buckled in the squirmy, cranky, just had my nest of hair brushed and I hate everything kid. With phone pinned between my ear and shoulder Anita says, "It's you!" And I was speechless. Dumbfounded. And the tears were already escaping and running. All I could muster was, "Whuuuuuut?!" And she says, laughing, "that's not the response I was expecting!" Then I gathered myself and said, "Yes! Yes!"

So I got in the van and started to back out, because we were running late to small group. Then I said, "What am I doing?!" And thought, we've got to get our baby boy! And called the good man to tell him the news. And he was just as flabbergasted as me.

Not the expected response. || This is hard. Because everyone expects that we are giddy and joyful and have been waiting sooooooo long we've got to be stupid happy. But really, we hold back. Much like the pregnant-again woman who recently endured a miscarriage. Excited, yet...we know. Life has been ugly and we are no longer ignorant of loss. Every minute I am on the verge of tears. Even right this morning I brushed my teeth and nearly sobbed because of it all. The waiting. The paper work. The calls of hope. The calls of hope shattered. Let's face it, buckling a cranky girl in her car seat was not the moment I expected to learn I would be a mother again. And when we say "Yes!" we do wholeheartedly, but in the back of our minds we know the truth. We know nothing is guaranteed. We know this all could turn on its head in an instant.

And it does.

We made a game plan, as I sat in the van half backed out of the garage while the Bea whined in the back about having to be in a car seat when the car isn't moving. (and bless her little heart, she had no idea why everything changed in that moment) The good man and I planned our next moves. The rest of the day involved rushing to the bank to take out a loan for the placement fees. Packing all the things I could think that we might need for a hotel stay for a week (while the ICPC cleared). And calls to family because we need people ready to care for our little girl when we travel for a week!

I had a quick phone call with the out-of-state adoption agency and they said they were expecting placement to take place on Friday. FRIDAY. Three whole days of waiting to meet and hold our little boy. I gave myself a pep talk. "You can do this!"

The packing. Rather, the unpacking. Years of baby things bought, collected, prayed over, cried over. Things I had bought giddy and blissfully ignorant of a silly thing called "infertility." Things packed away some 9 years. Things I had forgotten about. Things I had thought about every. single. day. In the rush and hurry of the day, the crazy levels of anticipation and scurry, time stood still as I opened the lid of this special blue tote and dug inside. And for the first time in almost a decade there was actual hope pulsing through my veins.

The next two days flew by in a slow-motion frenzy. Holding my breath every second, remembering I'm traveling to meet our son and having a giddy/anxiety attack every time, packing, coordinating with family, looking at hotels flights, picking up baby things from friends...It sounds so simple and carefree typing it here. But every moment was bathed in anticipation. Every second counting down. I actually had the hours marked and was waiting for the call to travel. We have a son. He is in a different state. And we can't go meet him for the first time yet. I mean, time. is. frozen.

Thursday afternoon I sat in a pile of baby clothes and swaddles and I was stupid happy. I let go. I let myself go there. Stupid happy. Imagined the weight of his little body in the onesie I had bought 10 years ago. Imagined life in the hotel with him -- sleeping, cuddles, changing, bathing. And nursing. A friend gave me a Lact-aid, a nursing supplimenter system, and I just stared at it in disbelief. I'm really going to get to do this?!

I got up from my pile of baby treasures and called the case worker. Hoping for a good word.

Good news! The birth mom had signed the papers! I danced in the dining room.

But there was another glitch. Medical bills. The birth mom had been in the ICU before and after the birth, and it is agency policy that adoptive families pay the cost of the birth not covered by insurance. She didn't have insurance. And might not get Medicaid. And we won't know for sure for months. Could we pay her medical bills?

I stood in the kitchen and scolded myself for even opening that stupid box of baby things. For getting to my stupid happy place. And I thought, Jesus, why? What on this god-forsaken earth are you doing?! I could feel the rug being ripped out from under us. We couldn't pay. We could barely pay the placement fees, let alone the travel expenses. And the case manager said something to the effect of, "I hate to say no. I hate to let families down, especially when we get so far into it, but if I'm honest, I'm not sure I would be comfortable moving this forward with anyone at this point, just because we don't have a clear view of what the medical bills actually are." And it was comforting. Not comforting to the fact that we were losing this baby, but that it wasn't simply our lack of finances, just the overall unknown. Then I felt so guilty and sad. That little boy is still waiting and how long will he have to wait to go to his forever home? And I wanted to say, "Screw it!! We'll leave now." But I know that would be impossible. And we didn't feel any peace with the medical bills. Once that was an obstacle, we knew it wasn't right for our family. It wouldn't be fair to Bea, it wouldn't be fair to him.

[pause] Let's talk blame. Some people might read this and get mad. "Why would they get your hopes up?!" "How could they do that?" "Why didn't she have insurance if she knew she was pregnant?!" And my response to all those questions and comments is this:

It's not about us. It's not about me. It's about the baby who needs a family and the birthmom who is making the most selfless, self-aware decision of her life -- she is not able to give proper care. They, adoption agencies, don't mean to get our hopes up. It just happens. It's part of what we sign on for because we are parents at heart. They need to find families who can take placement now. This second. Who are willing to step up even without all the details. Because that baby is waiting and every second counts. As far as the insurance or the choices the birthmom makes -- I think it's safe to say that if she had made the all perfect decisions for all of her life she would not be in this situation. And we would not be getting this call. And we pour out grace and mercy and love, rather than anger and judgement. Because none of us is perfect. It's not my place to judge whether or not she has done the responsible thing in the past. It's not about me or what I think or my convenience. We don't know her story or the reasons she has for choosing adoption, or why she waited until the birth. She already has more courage and strength than I could ever hope to gain. No one is to blame, least of all the birthmom. So please, choose grace. Grace. Grace. Abundant grace. [unpause]

So we said our goodbyes. She had our profile on file and would call if anything came up. And I made my way to the bathroom because, in that crushing minute, I just got my period. Thirteen days late and of all days, at the moment I lost my baby boy, it shows up. How...fitting. And I packed up all the baby boxes and shoved them in the spare room.

I called Jason and told him. I put in a movie for the Bea. I made coffee. I did laundry. I fixed my bed. Like a homemaker zombie. I called my mom. She had scrambled at work to get some time off for when we traveled. She said she was still coming down the next day, just because.

For the next two days I was living in a shadow. I would think, I need to pack my diffuser. I need to ask Mom for her luggage, I need to get a new pack of contacts. Then I would remember, No. No, I don't. Because I'm not going anywhere. 

Friday...the day we were supposed to meet our boy.

My mom. Thank the Lord for my mom. She played and played with the Bea. All day Thursday and all day Friday. And I did laundry, ran the dishwasher, cleaned my room...and wept, sobbed, threw things without worry my little girl would see and wonder what Mama was sad-mad about. I lived as an emotionally and physically exhausted, crampy, weepy, shadowy zombie and it was okay.

Saturday we planned to go to an outdoorsman event downtown with Jason's family. And I was happy for the distraction, although being able to go to the event meant we weren't holding our baby. And it was hard to live with that hovering over every moment for the first few days. The future of us had looked different and now it was back to the same, which, don't get wrong, is amazing. I love our little family. I love our life. But man, we were so close. An almost mama zombie walking through the crowds and booths of fishing and hunting equipment.

Jason went that night to visit his grandma and I went to church with the Bea. Probably the most restorative worship I have ever experienced. Is that even a thing? I think so. It should be if it isn't. God sweeping down from heaven and healing part of my heart that felt dead, giving me just enough strength to feel less like a zombie. Reminding me of the purpose I have now, in this little beautiful life we have, not in the shadow of what would have been. God seeing me -- the woman who had a baby she never held, and bleeding. Sometimes we feel forgotten. Okay, a lot of the times. We grieving ones feel forgotten, unseen. And although no one talked to me that evening, and I'm kind of glad for a big church in that way, I felt seen by the Father.

And Sunday...Sunday was good.

ADOPTION IS SO MUCH MORE (part 2)

When we step out in bold faith, when we say YES to God's movement and NO to fear, when we believe in His plan and provision, amazing things can happen.

Adoption is so much more...than bringing a baby home. That in itself is beautiful, amazing, breathtakingly awesome. But there is so much more. The community that surrounds and rallies. The family that grows close. The church that supports. The birth family and foster families being loved on, cherished, encouraged. The moving of our very Lord and Savior through the hearts and minds of family, friends, coworkers, church members, total strangers...to bring this child home, grow this family together!! There is so much more than we could ever dream to see.

 .     .     .     .     .

I wrote this ridiculously long message to a couple in my church who had recently brought home a baby through adoption. And their story is truly beautiful. Believing God when He urged me to reach out, for whatever reason, I prayed and pressed SEND.

In all honesty I was expected and waiting for a polite brush off. This couple was busy. They were settling in with their new baby. They had other children. Careers. Church positions. Would they really have time for us and our story?

After a few minutes I got a response…then another…and a question: Do you have a video to add to your fundraiser?

We didn't. I would have loved to have one. I'm not techy. We don’t have equipment. And the time to edit? Yeah, right. And I'm a perfectionist so some grainy video from our phones wouldn't do. So I had settled on the realization that we weren't going to have a video and I was okay with that.

So our new friend says, "That's exactly what I was hoping you would say. I have my our production company and I would love to make a video for your fundraiser."

Instantly tears are streaming.

I could barely make out the words to the good man. God had answered so many prayers in that one little sentence, some I hadn't even prayed yet. And did this new friend know that behind the screen across town he had changed our life, our journey, strengthened our faith, with this string of words?

There are simple moments in the adoption journey, or any journey of calling by God, where He reaches through heaven and the sky right into the very air you are breathing and you FEEL Him. You know, without a doubt, total certainty, He is here. And He is real. And HE is making this happen. God just stepped down out of heaven and dumped this amazing, unbelievable miracle on us and I was undone.

Within a few short days our new friend entered our little home with his camera equipment and recorded our story. He encouraged us, worked with us, comforted and gave guidance. It was the most wonderful experience. Another simple moment when God brings people together for His purposes, especially for the adoption of a child, who would maybe never have sat together at the same table. Never am I more aware of His working around us than I am in the middle of an adoption journey. I seriously had to keep myself from thinking these very things as we worked…because really I would have been bawling the entire time! I'm crying right now as I type this!

And what have I learned through this amazing experience?

1. Step out with courageous faith. My fears were unfounded. They seemed real. And that's exactly what the enemy wanted me to think. Step out in courageous faith in God, in others, and in His working in their lives. It seems scary and awkward and silly and weird. But in our weakest moments, the most awkward encounters, if we move when He asks He will honor that.  

2. God is working, let Him work. I can't know the end, sometimes not even the middle, but I do know when God urges me to move and I ought to do so boldly, with courage, knowing that He is the one who spoke the universe into motion, He will work in my efforts. My only job here is to follow His lead. It's not to know the ins and outs of the calling I have been given, or the urge I receive. But to follow. And try to follow bravely. There is no shame in weakness or doubt. Those are opportunities for Him to surprise us and bless us immensely.

3. Assumption is robbery. My fears of rejection or brush off assume the worst in another person. I have essentially written them off, not allowing them the opportunity to show their kindness and be used by God.  I know nothing about them yet, because of my fear I I assume the worst. I need to see people as God sees them -- vessels of blessing, comfort, encouragement, wisdom, and loved by Him -- a middle man for His working in my life. Had I caved and deleted my message we would not have made new friends in our adoption journey…and I would have robbed our new friends of the opportunity to bless us as they have. When God tells you to move…MOVE. And I would have said NO to this amazing and beautiful chapter in our adoption story. And oh my goodness…I would have been completely WRONG! Dave and Sarah are the most caring and kind people in the world!! I am not letting fear get the best of me ever again…er, I'm going to try my darnedest! 

4. The Church is His jam. I am in awe of this church family we have. It's difficult in a large church sometimes, most of the time. And I was scared to death when I walked in the big doors to this big tidal wave of people. And it's been nothing but blessing after blessing. I am so proud to say I belong to a church that rallies for adoption, that supports adoption, that cherishes children who have been adopted and their forever families. More and more I firmly believe that God is using His church, this church, to speak His love and power in their lives, our lives. On occasion He has used strangers, community members, family, old friends...but more often than not He is using this church community, this village of Christ-followers to love on us, support us, and encourage us.

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We are incredibly grateful for our friends Dave and Sarah who have so generously and graciously blessed us with this amazing video. It is truly beyond all we could ask or imagine. What a beautiful way to be used as His hands and feet. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts. Truly.

ADOPTION IS SO MUCH MORE

I don't like asking for help. It is completely against my nature to put myself out there. I'd much rather never ask than face rejection. And I'm pretty small in stature so I spent my younger years hiding behind others. In elementary, even in high school, when my teacher would ask a question I would hunch down low behind the person in front of me and never had to answer, even when I almost always knew the answer. In gym class I would find a taller classmate and be their shadow until dodgeball was over. The only situations in which this well-practiced method of hiding would back fire are when my front row friend was home sick...or the person I picked for dodging dodgeball was unexpectedly good and...I ended up being the LAST person on my team. Eight foam balls flung at me and I lost us the game. Figures.

I think adoption is so much bigger than bringing a child into a family. It is so much more. I think God uses adoption to speak to hearts, show His power, faithfulness, provision. God changes people and works miracles -- all behind the scenes. We see a baby or child welcomed home, and that is incredibly amazing in itself! But we don't see all that happened in the background to get this family to this moment. The most surprising thing about adoption and the entire journey through the adoption process, is how it changed and continues to change me. All the bending, breaking, mending, learning, healing, leaning, courage, boldness, bravery, strength, the moments of defeat that made joy more complete. Adoption is so much more.

Through my struggle of infertility I discovered I had a voice. In the most isolating, excruciating struggle of my life, I found I had something to say and I didn't care if it wasn't fluffy or shiny. Through our adoption journeys I've discovered I can be brave. There's a boldness and courage that I honestly didn't know existed. In a few short months I went from meekly leaving polite messages and waiting for phone calls to demanding updates, I've faced the feelings of judgment in the home study phase, the asking and waiting in fundraising,  stood tall before judges and pleaded our case. It doesn't seem like much. And honestly as I type this I'm thinking it's a little ridiculous that I take some ounce of pride over these things. But I flashback to ten years ago, even two years ago, and remember that this person is a far cry from the professional hider in school.

And in this newest adoption journey God is not done bringing out the courage and brave and strength and might, I guess. Challenging me, changing me, shaping and molding and bending and breaking. Mending. I wrestle against it, but I want to be the mom my kids will need. And if He is saying I need to be bolder, braver, stronger, louder…then I will be. I can be a fighter.

With this newfound resolve God is stretching me...

Last week, while trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep, a simple idea came to mind. A wild thought crept out of the fog and it would not let up. This, half-asleep/half-awake place, is where He speaks to me most. Not in audible voices with direct messages, but in inclinations, seemingly crazy ideas, sleeplessness leading to prayer. Not every night. Not all the time. Mostly I think about rearranging the furniture, but sometimes God likes to use these quiet, restful moments to get my attention.

All day long I'm thinking this crazy thing and pushing it aside, only to have it creep back in. Come on! And then I had another wild thought, maybe this idea isn't mine, but His?

So I took a deep breath, prayed for courage, pleaded for bravery, the right words, boldness, humility, and that He would work in this crazy wild idea.

And you know, the reason this seemed so out there, farfetched, it's ridiculous. I know this. I have kicked myself for even thinking it crazy. But I couldn't help it. I was afraid of rejection, of the brush off, of annoying, or even being misunderstood.

Fear makes us irrational. And when we bend to fear we can miss out on some amazing awesome things God had planned for us. When the thing I fear seems more daunting than God's power is awesome, I tend to buckle and back down.

What I've learned from this adoption journey is to dig in, stand tall, and trust that God will open doors, soften hearts, and provide. Sometimes it's a little baby step, sometimes it feels like a freefalling off a cliff backwards. Fully believing, because we have no reason to doubt -- God is all about adoption and will not let anything stand between a child and his or her forever family.

So I scribbled an awkward message and sent it late at night to this pretty sweet couple that I have never met who had their our adoption fundraising to worry about and who happened to be well connected...and had recently gone viral.

Basically, "You don't know me but we're adopting. Would you please share our story?"

And then the most incredible thing happened...

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A NEW ADOPTION JOURNEY

Hello Friends!

It has been quite a while. We've had to kind of snuggle in and protect together with this new family. So many things were a little different than I had imagined they would be. And so many things are so much more than I could ever have imagined.

We had to pull back quite a lot on the public aspect of our adoption journey for a few reasons. The biggest reason being that with a three year old who is making crazy amounts of adjustments, along with loss, and the expected attachment building there just was no time to sit and write complete sentences and post them with beautiful pics. Another reason was to protect. To protect this little one, To protect her future. To make sure she was adjusting well, felt secure, and comfortable in this new family. (I'm sure I'll write more on that later at some point.)

I am thrilled beyond measure to tell you that we are thriving here. We are just absolutely in awe and love with our little girl who had suddenly turned into a big girl, practically overnight. We have settled in comfortably into our new life together and I could not, in a million years, ask for anything more.

Except for a bigger family.

And we are excited to announce that we have renewed our home study and are officially WAITING for some brothers and sisters to add to this little tribe soon!!

We are so blessed to be able to stay with our case manager, Anita, on this new adoption journey. We firmly believe we would not have our little Bea home without her hard work, many hours on the phone, and her warrior prayers throughout our journey. I mean, she went WAY above and beyond for our girl and we are so incredibly grateful and blessed by her. It was a God-moment when, two years ago, we walked into the God's Children Adoption Agency informational meeting in just down the road from our apartment and met our "Muh-nita" (as our girl calls her).

We renewed our home study but under a different agency name. We are now working with Legacy of Adoption and so excited!

We are continuing our interest in adopting from foster care and are keeping everything very open as far as special needs and are open to any ethnicity.

So look forward to some more truly amazing miracles and unexpected answers to prayer. Please continue to partner with us in prayer, and giving if you feel so called. We know that God's plan of adoption is nothing short of incredible and He will never let anything get in the way of a child and his or her forever family.

I have also began to write again about daily life and whatnot at a new blog address: our-tiny-tribe.blogspot.com. Please also note the new address of our adoption blog as well. And if you would like to follow us on instagram: @jennaloujellyshoe is our private account, @our.tiny.tribe is our public account.