Lilies Considered

Archive | parenting RSS feed for this section

how do i do this?

on May 10, 2012

mother’s day is Sunday. it also happens to be the day we celebrate our sixth anniversary as a family. we talked about this tonight, right before snack time. six years ago the 13th, the day our little ones came home.

our middle guy said he wanted to talk. with just me. i asked him if it was about our family and he said yes. i offered for all of us to have a conversation over our snack. nope, he wanted just me.

i asked if it was about them coming home. yes, kind of. well, we could all talk about that then. nope, just with me.

i asked if it was about before they came home and told him that a conversation about that could encourage his brother and sister if we allowed them to join us. nope, just me, with just him.

the kids finished their snack and up they went to brush their teeth and get ready for bed. then my boy and i sat together at the dining room table and began to talk. no amount of training, no time spent strengthening my heart, no well rehearsed answers could have prepared me for this, his onslaught of very difficult questions.

“did they want us?”

“why didn’t they do what they needed to keep us?”

“were they mean to us?”

“did they do bad things to us?”

“did they do bad things to other people?”

“did they say goodnight to us?”

“did we have a bedtime?”

“did they get in trouble?”

“were they sad when we were taken? or were they happy?”

on, and on, and on.

i tried my best to answer, with age appropriate answers. that’s one of the hardest parts. i don’t have all the answers. but the answers i do have, to an eight year old, don’t make much sense. honestly, most of it doesn’t make sense to me. how in the world is he going to understand? there will be a day when i can let it all out there, when the truth can be known. but not now.

it took every ounce of strength i had to not completely fall apart. it’s so hard to look into his eyes and know his heart is broken and his mind is searching for answers. it’s so hard to know why and not be able to fully tell him.

after talking for about twenty minutes, we needed to head toward him getting to bed. i took his hands and told him i love him. and i love talking with him. and i love that he asks me these questions. and i love that i get to give him answers. and i asked if we could continue talking tomorrow. he said he had one more “small” question, which turned into three questions actually, then i kissed him on the head and sent him on his way.

i stepped into the kitchen and fell to my knees. i cried so hard i had to cover my mouth so their little ears wouldn’t hear me. i cried out to my God. “oh, my God, how do i do this? why me? why them? why does it have to be this way?”

this song has been running through my mind since.

“hungry, i come to You
for i know You satisfy
i am empty, but i know
Your love does not run dry

so i wait for You
so i wait for You
i’m falling on my knees
offering all of me
Jesus, You’re all this heart is living for

broken, i run to You
for Your arms are open wide
i am weary, but i know
Your touch restores my life

so i wait for You
so i wait for You
i’m falling on my knees
offering all of me
Jesus, You’re all this heart is living for ”
(hungry~kathryn scott)

because it’s all about Him and not at all about me.

Comments { 1 }

6 years ago today

on April 8, 2012

we met them.

we had waited almost three years for the answer to how we were going to be parents.

and this day, six years ago, we met our answer. three answers actually.

here are the details for that day.

“and where was i before the day

that i first saw

your lovely face

now i see it everyday

and i know

that i am, i am

the luckiest”

ben folds

we went to meet our children yesterday. well, they aren’t officially ours yet, but we are really hoping and praying that they become our children. we drove to their foster home. it’s about an hour away from our home. and, it’s in the middle of nowhere. i am not complaining about that. i can’t. some people travel half way around the world to meet their children!

the ride down is hard to describe. josh attempted a couple of times to pray out loud for us, but the emotion of it was overwhelming to me. i didn’t want to show up at the door with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. i had been praying in my head. and i knew so many of you were praying too. thank you for that. we could feel it. the whole day felt covered.

so the drive was filled with much anticipation, but no expectation. we didn’t know what to expect. we had seen a picture of the children. but, it was a black and white photocopy, and the kids are biracial so it was hard to tell what they looked like.

we also had no idea how they’d react to us. we went just as people who are coming over to play for awhile, not as maybe ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. we were just josh and kirsten, wanting to get to know them a little and have fun.

when we got there and pulled in the driveway, josh said he could see little faces looking out the window. we smiled at each other and asked one another if we were ready to do this. we were. without a doubt. we made our way to the door and we could hear little voices waiting behind it. the tears started to come. the door opened and there they were. three little faces. well, at first we could only see two because the middle one was hiding behind foster mom. but, there they were. and they were gorgeous. they are just gorgeous.

they were shy at first, not wanting to say hi or talk to us at all. foster mom was really great, encouraged them to get some toys out to show us. that opened a window for us to begin to interact with them. within five minutes of being there, we were playing and giggling. we started taking some pictures and boy did they love being in front of the camera.

we were playing with a barnyard set. they were being silly pretending the rooster was a cow and that the sheep said moo. then they were saying the baby, who is a boy, was a girl. i asked them what i am and the oldest one, the girl, said i was a boy. we laughed. i asked her again. again she said i was a boy. i giggled and told her i was a girl. she said, “no, you a mother.” it didn’t really hit me then, but josh mentioned it on the way home and it blew me away.

we talked about toys they like, what they do at Sunday school, what shows and songs they like. we saw their bedroom. we looked at a photo album their foster mom had put together. various pictures of holidays and church activities and birthday parties. it was neat to get a glimpse into the past year of their life.

foster mom shared with me what foods they like, what their napping schedule is. when they go to bed, when they wake up. she told me how they do at the doctors and in the car. how she bathes them and cares for their skin and hair.

the talking and giggling and playing soon turned into hugs and kisses and sitting on laps. at one point the middle child sat on my lap for at least 20 minutes straight. i didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay there so i kept giving him opportunities to get up. but, he stayed. most of the time it just felt normal, but sometimes it would hit me, “i am holding you because you are going to be my son.”

we continued to take pictures. it was so much fun to see their eyes light up each time we pulled out the camera. we have some of the cutest pictures of them being silly with josh. again, it all seemed so normal, and then it would hit me, “i am taking pictures of them with josh because he is going to their dad.” it was amazing.

we were there for two hours. we could have stayed for ten. it seemed so surreal that i had to keep telling myself to drink it all in. this is what we had been waiting for for two and a half years. they were strangers yesterday when we arrived at 3pm, but as i held them and kissed them, it felt like i had known them forever. in the past i couldn’t picture our home with three little children living in it and now i can’t picture it without them here. it just fits, perfectly.

the plan is to go back next weekend. and in the meantime, we have bedrooms to set up, furniture to paint and rearrange, lots of kid and baby things to purchase. but most of all, i think we’ll spend time being thankful. it is astounding to us that out of all the people in the world, God would choose us to parent these children. they are a huge gift and we have a huge responsibility ahead of us. we are so excited. and you know what, no longer scared. God is so good, we are filled with anticipation for all that is to come. so much anticipation that i really had a hard time sleeping last night. i couldn’t get their faces out of my head. we are so blessed.

we are the luckiest.

Comments { 2 }

they needed a family

on March 29, 2012

one line.

one line in our story.

one line in the book i wrote about our family.

one line.

four words.

thirty minutes of crying.

thirty minutes of sobbing.

thirty minutes of weeping.

by my tenderhearted eight year old boy.

they needed a family.

it makes him sad.

he couldn’t quite explain why.

and i’m not about to put words in his mouth.

i held him.

and he held on to me.

he held on tight.

i told him it makes me sad too.

i told him i don’t understand it either.

i told him it’s okay to be sad.

i told him it’s okay to cry.

i told him it’s okay to not understand.

i told him that even though we’re sad and we don’t understand, God has a plan.

and that His plan is good. (jeremiah 29:11)

and that we cannot understand His ways. (isaiah 55:8-9)

and that’s where our faith comes in. (hebrews 11:1, 2 corinthians 5:7)

and that when we get to Heaven, i’m going to tell God i don’t understand and i’m going to ask Him to explain it to me. (though i have the feeling once i get there, i won’t need things explained that happened here!)

i told him that while i don’t understand and it makes me sad too, i love him more than he’ll ever know and i believe in what God is doing.

i told him that one of the best things he can do when he’s sad, is come to me and tell me.

and i will hold him while he cries.

they needed a family.

and now they have one.

but it doesn’t make everything better.

it doesn’t make it any easier to understand.

Comments { 0 }

the same story, over and over and over again

on March 16, 2012

and again. and again. and again.

on our way to school orville asked, “did we go to church when we lived in our birth parents’ home?” amelia and i both answered that we didn’t think so. “did we go to church when we lived in our foster home?” orville questioned. “yes, you did.” i replied, “absolutely!” amelia added, “was orville 1 when we lived there? because if he was, then yes, we went to church. i remember.”

i love that church was something they were familiar with. that makes my heart happy. and as soon as i recognize that happiness, here it comes. without warning. and the happiness of my heart drains and an ache sets in. orville had another question, “how did you get us?”

there are a million ways to ask that question. but truth be told, only one way to answer. and every time i’m torn. torn between the pain of their story and the beauty of their story.

“what do you mean how did we get you buddy?”

“i mean we couldn’t stay there, with our birth parents, because they couldn’t take care of us, right?”

“right.”

“why couldn’t we stay at our foster home? why couldn’t our foster mom adopt us?”

“well, she didn’t feel called to adopt. she felt called to do what she’s done. when it’s not safe for children to stay in their birth home, they need to go someplace that is safe. usually, that is a foster home. and while they are there, people are working to see if it’s safe for the kids to go back to their birth home. your foster mom felt God called her to be there during that time, the time in between. and if it’s not safe for the kids to go back to their birth home, the best thing for them to be adopted into a home where they can be taken care of. where they can grow up safe and healthy.”

“why didn’t she want to adopt though?”

“she felt like she was a little too old. you know how daddy and i are in our 30′s? we can still play basketball and go for hikes and go for bike rides and play at the beach and in the ocean. your foster mom had a hard time doing those things.”

now we’re a block from school and we should pray before we get there and (this is the part i hate. hate.) i want to wrap this conversation up in a neat package with a pretty little bow, but i can’t. i simply can’t.

“well kids, we’re almost there and we’re going to pray. ‘thank You Jesus for adoption. thank You that God has adopted us to be His children. and thank You for allowing us to experience adoption in our family. and thank You for a great school for the kids and help them to have a great, fun day. and we pray that they’d be able to play outside some today. and thank You for loving us and always taking care of us. in Jesus name, amen.’ and kids, this was a good conversation and i’m sorry we can’t finish it now. but, if you want to, we can keep talking after school.”

as each takes their turn exiting the van, we exchange kisses and i love you’s. they enter their world of learning and fun. and i drive away with a broken heart. this story of separation and adoption is a story i’ll be telling for the rest of my earthly life. and there’s so much beauty in it. but there’s also so much pain.

i can’t imagine being a child and hearing ‘your parents couldn’t take care of you so you couldn’t stay with them’. and as i thank God for adoption, and even for being adopted myself, by Him, i can’t help but think that there are times that that doesn’t help. it doesn’t tidy up the story of the lives of my children. it doesn’t heal the wound of the separation. quite frankly, it doesn’t make sense and it’s not fair. and it’s a hard story to tell. it’s hard to digest. it’s hard to reconcile. but i have to tell it. as much as i don’t like it, i have to tell it.

and then i hear God telling His story. creation, sin, the fall, the curse. then the birth of His Son, their separation through Jesus’ death, then redemption, then adoption. in this story there is so much pain, and so much beauty. but yet, i love to tell this story.

“i love to tell the story. ’twill be my theme in glory, to tell the old, old story, of Jesus and His love”
Words:A. Katherine Hankey, 1866. Music:William G. Fischer, Joyful Songs, 1869

Comments { 3 }

there is joy in our home

on December 5, 2011

“i felt it when i first walked in your home, joy,” he said. my uncle mike came to visit today. he’s been in town for awhile and is heading out soon. he stopped by this afternoon to hang out with our family.

i loved having a grown~up conversation with him. my whole life, he’s been an adult. and now i am his peer.

he’s amazing, this uncle of mine. he’s wise. he’s deep. he’s sincere. he’s flawed, and he admits it. he’s been redeemed, and he’s grateful. he speaks the truth, completely bathed in love. he seeks the Lord. he follows the Lord. he trusts the Lord with all his heart.

he’s on an adventure. he’s doing a great deal of traveling. he’s asking the Lord to lead him where He wants him to go. i feel that his time here with us today was God ordained. i feel so privileged that we were incorporated into his journey.

he spoke love into our lives, into our family, into our home. he delighted in our children. he delighted in the story of our family. he told us we’ve done a good job, we’re doing a good job. and he said there is joy in our home.

joy. in our home.

as he walked out our front door, down our porch stairs, and down the sidewalk to his car, my heart ached a little. i wished we had more time.