Good Grief

Although it was hard to post the poem I wrote for Lilibeth and Eddie on mother's day, I decided to do it anyways.

I am trying to be more transparent with my struggles in the hope that someone else can benefit or somehow be encouraged. It's also part of my quest for more humility in my life. Yes, humility. The "failure" of our attempted adoption has been a very lonely experience for us. We have lacked categories to place our grief. And we realize that other people have a hard time understanding. Honestly, we struggle to understand it ourselves. I have been shocked by the intensity and the longevity of the grief I have felt over losing these two precious little ones.

In fact, many times I say to myself, "GOOD GRIEF! Just get over it. Enough is enough." And I am almost ashamed that I am grieving so intensely. . . I imagine that other people are looking at me thinking, "They were never actually your children anyways. You should never have allowed yourself to be so attached to them." And perhaps that is true.

I was talking with the wife of one of my pastors. She has raised adopted children. I told her, "I have learned my lesson. Next time I will not allow myself to get so attached to a child until he is home." Her response? "I don't think you can help it. It is natural and it is good." That was exactly what my heart needed to hear.

When you adopt, you see a photo of a child. You get a description of the child and then you make a commitment to parent the child. Then often times you get to send them care packages. You get regular pictures and updates on their lives. You may even get videos of them. You start planning your life with the child. You buy their necessities like beds, car seats, clothing. You buy the extras, like books, cd's, dolls, stuffed animals.

Everywhere you go you cannot help thinking about what it will be like when your child is home with you. . . The extra time you will need to load everyone into the car. . . You look in the rear view mirror and your mind's eye sees their faces along with the other faces you see there. . . You see other children your child's age and you watch them thinking, "that is what it will be like when my children are finally home". . . When people ask how many children you have, you aren't sure how to answer . . . You hear announcements in church of families adopting children and think that maybe next time that name will be yours. . . You see children being dedicated and pray that next time it will be you with your newly adopted children. . . You plan, you imagine, you dream, you wait, you pray and pray and pray . . .

And then they are gone. And they are still orphans. Orphans living in a state run orphanage. You want them to be safe. You long for them to have a family. You long for them to know the love of Godly parents. You want them to be discipled to know the Lord. You want so much for them and they have so little. And it hurts. You feel it keenly. And you grieve.

You go somewhere in the car and grieve because you must remove them from your mind's eye. . . You grieve when someone asks how many children you have because this time the answer is so simple . . . You grieve when the pastor makes a baby announcement that is not yours . . . You weep during the child dedications because you cannot dedicate your precious longed-for children to the Lord.

You grieve for what you thought would be. You grieve for what could have been. You grieve for shattered dreams. You grieve for the children who have so much less than what you want for them. You grieve their loss and yours.

You grieve. It is necessary. It is natural. It is good.

He Humbles the Proud

I thought I'd share with you all my lessons on humility today.

We left for church this morning - Sophia wearing one of her dress-up cloth's dresses (A "bride's dress" - now mind you, it was an actual girls dress - probably from the 80's . . . ) Dillon had his church pants on . . . from last year . . . let's just say it looked like we were expecting a very large flood. Jack . . . well, he's just a baby so it doesn't really matter . . . right? Me, hmmm, suffice it to say that I've got a ways to go before my clothes fit me right again. (Jonathan did look nice though!)

So, I left the house feeling thankful that we were going to go to a different church today - I wouldn't know anyone there anyways. . .

SO who do we end up sitting by? You got it - Not only one of the families from Sophia's private school, but one of the most affluent families . . . AND the one with the cutest, best dressed mom and the sweetest most adorable kids! AND THEN, to top it off, my kids were in rare form the whole service - (Sophia was even under the pew at one point!)

As I sat there fuming at my misbehaving, geeky looking kids I realized that what was really going on with me was a ton of pride! Why should I be so livid at my kids? Why not sad that they were being disrespectful in church? The answer: IT WAS ALL ABOUT ME! My pride was hurt. Not only did we look like we got all our clothing at the local Good Will, but I also "obviously" was not quite cutting it as a mom with the way my kids were behaving.

What I needed was a change of heart.

The Lord was merciful to me and moved me from a fit of anger and self pity to one of humility and repentance. My kids were dressed the way they were because I had wanted to focus on a peaceful morning before church and chose not to start our morning off with fights about wardrobe. My kids were behaving like they were because they are still in training. They are still learning how to worship respectfully.

AND because the Lord needed to teach me a lesson about the difference between hurt pride and righteous indignation . . . The difference between disciplining my kids because they are making me look bad and disciplining them because I am concerned about the state of their souls . . . The difference between focusing on outward appearances and focusing on inner beauty . . . The difference between living for the moment and living for eternity.

Although I pretty much missed most of the sermon because I was busy redirecting my children, the Lord met me in a powerful way this morning.









(This is what I was wishing they looked like this morning!) :)

Loving the Giver more that the gift

The name of our blog comes from the meanings of Lilibeth and Eddie's names. Lilibeth's name means "my God is abundance" and Eddie's name means "blessed," therefore, our blog became "My God's Abundant Blessings."

What I never dreamed of when I named this blog, is that God would be teaching me in a whole new way that I need to want Him more than I want His abundant blessings. I've learned more than ever before, what it means and feels like to completely surrender your blessings (in this case my children) to the Lord and trust Him with the outcome.

Through this whole adoption process I have had to trust God completely - with something that I badly wanted to happen. Something that I've dreamed about for years. And the Lord has refined me. You see, my trust is easy to give when things are going my way. But, the Lord has graciously shown me more of what it truly means to hang unto Jesus. The Lord has taught me that He is more satisfying than His gifts, and the lessons learned through pain can also be abundant blessings.

We have an Amazing God!

God continues to be merciful to us and show us more of who He is through our adoption process. Lately this song by Chris Tomlin has really ministered to me. It is so good to trust a God who put the stars in the sky and knows them by name. He who tells every lightning bolt where it should go is the same God who is taking care of Lilibeth and Eddie. This all powerful God is the same God who led us to where we are now. He imagined the sun and gives source to its light, and He has the power to move however He will in the actions of governments and in adoption agencies and in families. He sees to the depth of our hearts. He knows our yearnings and our hurts, and He is powerful and will give us what is good for us. He sees the sinful bitter feelings we struggle against, and yet He loves us. It is so incredible to meditate on the God who controls the universe. Even when I cannot possibly understand the work He is doing in my life, how could I not stand in awe of this indescribable, incomparable, unchangeable, amazing God?

Chris Tomlin - Indescribable
From the album Arriving

From the highest of heights to the depths of the sea,
Creation's revealing Your majesty.
From the colors of fall to the fragrance of spring,
Every creature unique in the song that it sings. All exclaiming...

(Chorus)
Indescribable, Uncontainable,
You placed the stars in the sky and You know them by name.
You are amazing God.
All powerful, Untameable,
Awestruck we fall to our knees and we humbly proclaim,
You are amazing God.

Who has told every lightning bolt where it should go,
Or seen heavenly storehouses laden with snow?
Who imagined the sun and gives source to its light,
Yet conceals it to give us the coolness of night?
None can fathom...

(Chorus)

Incomparable, Unchangeable,
You see the depths of my heart and You love me the same.
You are amazing God.

Lessons Learned: Let Go and Let God

Through our adoption process so far we have learned so much more about what it really means to "let go and trust in God's perfect timing and perfect wisdom" than I ever imagined when I wrote this e-mail (just three days before our referral). It was good for me to read my own e-mail reminding me not to get all upset about things that are really beyond my control and to "rest in knowing that God is in control and working all things (even the hard things) together for our good!"

Date: Mon, 24 Sep 2007

This whole process is teaching me to just let go and really trust in God's perfect timing and perfect wisdom. Knowing that no matter what happens it will be for good. So, I'm learning not to get all upset about things that are really beyond my control. . . Of course my first thoughts are - "wait a minute, why wasn't our process like that!" But I know better than to dwell on that.

It's really a growing experience for me. I'm usually much more of a "hands on," "get it done," "assert yourself" type person. Anyways, just random thoughts, but all to say that it's really been good to rest in knowing that God is in control and working all things (even the hard things) together for our good! My biggest prayer through this whole process is that no matter what happens God will amazingly glorify his name through our process. . . I'm also praying that God would mightily show Himself to our social worker and others at [our homestudy agency] through our adoption process. In some ways we've already seen His blessing and answering that prayer, and we trust He will continue to do that!

Lessons Learned: Standing and Waiting

I've been struggling with knowing what to write lately. (As you may have noticed - I've been taking the "cut-and-paste" route.) I want to thank all of you for your prayers. Although these last few weeks have been some of the most difficult we have ever faced, we are now feeling God's peace even though we still do not understand His ways. We are still praying that He makes a way for Lilibeth and Eddie to come home. Right now we do not know how that would happen. I have been trying to think of what God is teaching me through this, and I came across this part in my all time favorite adoption book:

I realize how conditioned we are as middle-class Americans to take action, overcome obstacles, and get what we want. We feel entitled to the fulfillment of our desires. We presume that things should go our way, quickly and smoothly. If that does not happen, we usually think that with enough money or time we can conquer any problem.

The "where there's a will, there's a way" mindset is entrenched in our culture. . . Our language reveals how we cherish control and self-help: We try to "take control" of parts of our lives in which we feel "out of control." People "pull themselves up by their bootstraps." More than once, I have had salesmen at the door tell me that the Bible says "God helps those who help themselves." (It doesn't.)

Our feeling of control vanishes at times, those shattering moments that become markers in our lives. A longed-for pregnancy ends in miscarriage. A Loved one is diagnosed with terminal illness. But even then we grasp as much control as possible. We read books, become experts, make sure we obtain the best medical care possible, try alternative therapies, ask lots of questions, and, if not satisfied, find someone else to help us. For every crisis, there are books and websites promising that you can will and work your way out of your problems and into your desires.

Many of us would be frustrated, and likely even appalled, if we lived in close proximity with those from a more fatalistic culture. They meet difficulties differently, sometimes perceiving their hardships as the will of God, which should not be changed by manipulation. We would cry out that they should do something: Work hard, talk to people, rebuild, re-try - something, but not just passive acceptance.

The Bible does tell us to work and to persevere - but with effort that is built on a bedrock of reliance of God. Instead our faith is often laid on sands of self-sufficiency. We approach our problems with some prayer, but really we're thinking we can do a lot to fix them ourselves. Now waiting for Lilibeth and Eddie* our hands are tied. There is nothing we can do, so our faith and hope must be in God alone.

We wring our helpless hands as Lilibeth and Eddie get older each week. We long to bring them home like nothing we have longed for before. And we cannot make it happen. Money, time, connections are useless. Neither pushiness nor kindness, neither phone calls nor e-mails, neither influential politicians nor the best adoption agencies, nothing but God himself can move these babies from the orphanage in Guatemala to our home in Wisconsin. Their lives and ours are in the hands of a cadre of bureaucrats in a different part of the world. Our culturally conditioned expectation of getting our way has been smashed.

So I struggle against my sense of entitlement, my expectation that everything must go my way, my raging disappointment when I cannot do anything more to get what I want. And there may be other battles going on as well. . . There are sometimes spiritual battles being waged under the surface of paperwork and diplomacy, conflicts incited when there is an attempt to move children from orphanages to Christian homes. . . "our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Eph 6:12). In the military language of that passage, we are to "stand firm," wearing the spiritual armor of truth, righteousness, faith, and prayer. We do not know all that is happening in the hidden fields of this battle. But whether I am fighting against my own self-centered presumption or against spiritual forces in Guatemala, I find that standing is hard work, when I want to run in and do something.

But when I try to run, I hit a brick wall. It must be good for me to see my complete lack of control. Prevented from doing anything else, I can only try to stand in faith, try to learn how to "be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power" (Eph 6:10). God is weaning me from dependence on my manmade tools and training me to use his weapons.

Where there's a will . . . we stand and wait.

From Carried Safely Home by Kristin Swick Wong
*names changed to fit our situation.

I would add that it is an amazing comfort to know that their lives and ours are ultimately in the hands of the Creator and Sustainer of the Universe, who is infinitely more powerful than any cadre of bureaucrats this world has.