Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Initial Thoughts on the Planned Parenthood Investigation

Planned Parenthood paves the tortuous road for a mother choosing to end the life of her child.  Giving the lie that such a surgery is painless for both the mother and the baby, this organization brutally kills, leaving wounds that will never heal.  
As the story broke regarding the selling of the dead children, my heart felt a weight that left me motionless.  My insides reeled.  Planned Parenthood exists for making money and not for benefitting mothers and children.  
Julia died inside of me over five years ago.  A compassionate, Christian doctor along with my hurting husband walked me through that horribly painful week.  Letting Julia go meant surgery.  Ugly surgery.  She was already in the arms of Jesus, but the reality of the surgery still haunts me.  
Choosing to kill your child because you think carrying her will cause you pain of any sort is absurd at its very base.  There is pain in loosing a child. Unbelievable pain.  I had not chosen to kill my little girl, of course.  God had numbered her days perfectly, and he had already carried her to heaven.  I cannot even fathom the choice to voluntarily end the life of such a little one.  

As long as Planned Parenthood conducts its business, money will change hands at the cost of little lives and mothers' futures.  Hearts of many have been hardened.  

Monday, July 13, 2015

Another Battle for My Son's Heart

Three year olds think they are really big kids until they realize they are not.  Reagan has been in church since a newborn, yet now he has declared war on anything church.  Therefore, my battle station is a pew outside his class, guarding the door, calming the resistance.  Battle pay is not in my contract.  Others have chosen to come along side and join the fight for my son's heart.  I want a quick solution.  I want to be able to fight from a distance or not fight at all.  Fighting can hurt.  God has not called me to be a sideline mom.  I am drafted to fight intensely for my son.  If I don't, others will win his heart.  
At this moment, there is no screaming, no doors slamming.  I don't hear his name.  I hear quiet.  For the moment.  
For the moment, he is hearing truth, learning alongside of his peers, choosing to listen.  
For the moment, I can hear the adults in the other room worshiping together.
For the moment, I can see Alyson and Matthew serving in the 2's and 3's.  They were three at one point too.
For the moment, I see God answering prayer.

I am thankful for the cease fire - for the moment.

Friday, June 26, 2015

Moments of Sanity

There are moments that God strategically places in my day that remind me that I have not completely lost it.  You know those times when you say to yourself, "I just might make it through this day." I call these moments of sanity.
Being able to pour AND drink a second cup of coffee ranks pretty high on that list.  
We pulled out a stack of books earlier,  sat on the floor, and enjoyed some sing-songy picture books - the kind that make you sway and giggle.  I love to read to kids.
The sink is clean, and the laundry baskets are empty.  Mind you, that will not last for long, but remember, these are MOMENTS of sanity.
Maddie and Kyle are playing without fussing, and their play involves music, costumes, and creativity.  These two may survive middle school together.  
Anna, Sawyer, and Reagan may be playing with a live cricket in the basment, but they are not breaking anything or screaming at each other.  For now.  Moments, friends.

I am smiling at these gifts of moments.  I complain too often, and my days often turn into a struggle.  Today may have some bumps in the road, but that is okay.  

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Adoption Reality

Once upon a time, there was a mom and dad.  They had four children.  In both the mom's heart and dad's heart, there was a longing to extend their family.  Not too long after a sweet conversation over a pizza lunch, the mom and dad knew that another little one would join them within the year.  Their little girl grew for about twenty weeks in the mommy's belly and forever in her heart.  Yet, this little one never got to meet her mom and dad, but rather saw Jesus first.                                                                                The mom and dad now wondered how this empty feeling would even come close to healing.  They knew that God's plan was perfect, but they did not know what that plan was.  At the moment, all they knew was hurt.  As the months passed, God was doing something special that would involve patience, time, and trust.  In the past, the mom and dad had opened  their home to other children and a young mom.  God had already been planting a seed for what seemed to be the next step:  foster parenting. 

After mounds of paperwork, hours of classes, and multiple home visits, the mom and dad became what God had been planning.  They were preparing to open their home to two other children, who, though were not born physically into the family, were welcome as the mom and dad's own children.  God used those two little ones to prepare the mom and dad for fostering with the plan to adopt, but those two little ones were not the ones God had planned to join the family.  
The mom and dad waited for weeks.  Then the phone rang. Two more little ones, a blond haired little 19 month old boy and his sister, a 9 month old, blue eyed little girl needed a home.  They entered the mom and dad's home and hearts on August 23, 2010.  
Each day together was another step in forever, though there was no certainty that forever for these little ones would mean life in this new home.  Many visits, court appearances, and red tape turned into months and years.  
As the mom and dad parented their family of six kids, they received a call that now another little one, a sibling to their newest children, was to be born the next summer.  Two children now became three.  Six children would now become seven.  It would take more waivers and more paper work.  God was doing something.  
As the mom spent precious time in the hospital with this newest little one, a boy, her heart grew even more.  Sadly she watched the heart of the birth mom break as her son rode away. God's plan is always perfect, but this plan was not pain free.  
The next year spent with three in diapers and little sleep stretched the mom and dad thinner than they thought possible.  
In another home, minutes away, lived another little boy, a big brother to these who came to live in this new family.  He longed to be with his brothers and sister.  The mom and dad saw his heart break even more each time they met.  God moved again in their hearts and plans were set for him to join them as well.  Eight children was not the original plan, but it was a good plan.  
Over the next three years, the mom and dad were put through much turmoil as accusations ensued and threats of removal were voiced.  Court appearances weighed heavily as the mom and dad made themselves present time and time again.  Humanly, the permancy of these four children in the home of this mom and dad seemed impossible.  The state seemed the big, bad monster who could roar loudly and wreak havoc.  
God became very big to this mom and dad.  When at their whits end, God said, "I can go further."  When nothing made sense, God said, "I know what's going on."  When life hurt, God said, "I am your healer." 
Trial was set for January.  The mom and dad headed to the courtroom supported with prayers around the world.  It appeared by all accounts that this trial would go the limit.  There was no deal to be made.  As the snow began to fall, court was closed for the next day.  Trial would have to wait.  Waiting had been the name of the game to this point.  Yet waiting was just what was needed.
Day two of trial was met with a renewed heart.  God had brought the birth parents to a point of decision that would change the future for many.  The mom and dad sat quietly as the birth mom shared her hurting heart and her desire for these four little ones to remain where they are:  together in this new home.  She voluntarily gave up her rights to parent these children anymore.  
Numbness described the feeling as this mom and dad walked back to their car.  Adoption was now a possibility, a probability, an answer to prayer.  God is good all the time, so he would be good had the outcome been different.  However,  this change of events showed a gracious, patient, loving God who chose to grow the family of this mom and dad by adoption.  Again the mom and dad sorted through more paper work, doctor visits, and home visits.  The final hearing was set for June 12, 2015, only a few months shy of five years since that initial paper work had been completed.  
As all eight children  with their mom and dad entered the courtroom, they were joined with friends and family, hugs and handshakes, tears and kisses.  The road to adoption leads through valleys deep and dark.  Its twists and turns may leave you in confusion and frustration.  Questions may have answers, or they may not.  Yet, in it all, this mom and dad saw God like they would have never done had they not said yes to Him five years ago.  
Adoption is final, but it is not the end of the story.  This mom and dad now celebrates a big family of ten.  They celebrate a bigger God.  

Maddie's Poem - "Mice"

Words are a gift.  Today, I was gifted with this sweetness from Maddie.  She sat in our kitchen, green marker writing on a simple, lined paper.  Her words would not change the world, but they certainly made me smile.  They did not take long to write, and they express a simplicity of ideas.  Please enjoy this step back to childhood.  Savor the words.

I was walking through the house
When at once I saw a mouse.
He ran across the floor.
I looked, and there was more.
One's name was Nick.  Another's Span.
But when I saw a blue one, I took off and ran.
As I ran I stubbed my toe.
It hurt so bad.  Oh no!  Oh no!
"Mice! Mice!" I cried.
At that moment the more mice I spied.
I decided to follow them as close as I dare,
But then the mice climbed into my hair.
Turns out all they wanted was a ride.
Then I was sorry that I had cried.
Nick became my pet.
I'll never forget the day when we met.

Monday, June 15, 2015


They walked into our life three days shy of Aly's thirteenth birthday.  Almost five years later, we will celebrate the fact that they are ours forever.  Adoption is a reality.  
Aly is now closing in on eighteen.  She has never been a teen without these littles.  Now her steps down the aisle, Pomp and Circumstance playing, remind me that our time with her is short.  Graduation sends her proudly to the next step.  College begins in August - nine hours from home.
Two very emotional events for this momma.  I am sure that tears will flow.
How do I say all that is in my heart?  Journaling and blogging jog special days and silly moments.  They remind me of yesterday's hurt too.  
We were not sitting on the sidelines simply watching life's game.  We were players in the scrum.  
I have watched Aly develop as a team player, though she received bumps and bruises along the way.  I watched her pour her broken heart on paper.  Her words speaking truth, expressing her soul, preparing her for tomorrow.  
I have seen her give in but not give up.  She has allowed God to show her how to intensely love unconditionally.  She has fallen in love with learning, with purpose, with life.  
Our family may be difficult to love.  Aly has practiced when to fight and when to be quiet.
The harshness of life has served to soften her heart.  Her sweetness blesses all of us.  

It almost does not seem fair that both adoption and graduation occur on the same day.  Then again, the coincidence is perfect.  

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Prayers From the Car Seat

God is in the process of healing hearts one day at a time.  My littles continue with weekly visits with their bio mom.  Each week wounds are reopened.  Each week hearts are torn.  Each week my heart bleeds for my children.  
Glimpes of yesterday and expressions of misguided hope presented on the way to school this morning.  Therapy from the driver's seat was limited as the drive was short.  I answered questions the best that I could, but I knew that the answers were not grasped.  
Then she prayed.  
My littlest girl sat behind me in the bus.  I could not see her, but her sweet voice rose with the simple question, "Can I pray."
When will I learn?  Of course, that is the answer to all this craziness.  God is slowly healing her heart.  It will take a lifetime, but he will heal.  If only momentarily, she grasped that God was the one to whom she could talk.  He was the one who had it all together, always.  
Interestingly, she spoke with experessions of praise and thanks.  It would have been easy for her to set her demands.  She is a normal kid in that her want list is long.  Yet, God to her was someone who had already blessed her in so many ways.  She chose to focus on today, on what she had, not what was missing.  She knew that God could help her with her day.  In her moments of sweetness, she was trusting him with her tomorrow as well.  
We are still going to have craziness today to be sure.  My kids will lose it.  I will lose it.  

Thank you, God, for holding it all together.