Crazy Love

Few will read this post, and even fewer will understand it.  It's ok, though, because this post really is just for me.  A means to let my fingers fly and spell out the thoughts swirling within my mind and heart.

There was a time, around five years ago, when He began to nudge our hearts.  "There are so many, without," He said.  "You could do something about that," He said.  What began as a little spark, He fanned gently into a flame.  That flame fanned into a fire, until we were left with a choice: to shrink back due to the enormity and impossibility of the task, or to walk forward in obedience into the impossible dream of becoming an adoptive family.  We decided to leap.  We didn't want anything left on the table...we didn't want to look back and say, "We should have...why didn't we."

So, with excitement and still a little trepidation in our hearts, we dove into all the research and paperwork and question marks.  Paid fees, both monetary and emotional.  Collected and filled our house with junk to be sold for treasure, to help bring our treasure home.  Set up sales and sat outside for days in the hot sunshine and in the cold rain.  Watched miracles happen in wads of bills, wet and clean, being pulled out of the washing machine from seemingly nowhere.  Cash stuffed in glove compartment, the exact amount to make up for a disappointing payout from sold jewelry.  My body racked with unknown illness, and unable to continue with fundraising, complete strangers came to us and handed us money.  Friends showed up randomly on doorstep, with encouragement and checks for obscene amounts.  Always, the fees were covered when they were due.

All the while, while living and loving and growing our family at home, I chronicled the journey, wrote love notes to our unknown child whom we knew was out there....somewhere.  Then suddenly, it all stopped.  We waited and watched and waited some more.  Waited for the direction.  Waited to see how He would cover the next fee...but He never did...because the fee never came due.  Everything became a standstill.  We watched others realize the fruition of their call.  We hung on to our shred of hope that things would work out for us the way we'd hoped, too.

I remember the day she stopped by our home.  She was picking up a box of junk to be turned into treasure to bring her own little treasures home.  Our conversation turned from the mundane and polite, to the deeper things in life.  I expressed my sadness and frustration over seemingly living in a stand still.  Feeling a sense like we had life on-hold for something...but that something didn't appear to be anywhere in sight.  Meanwhile, we felt tight...stifled...needing to grow in so many ways...so expectant.  "You must find it hard to dream anymore," she said, as my eyes filled with tears at the realization of the truth of what she said.  She was so correct.  It was just so hard to dream anymore.

Months turned into years, and He began to move in our hearts again, though not in a way we had expected.  "Because everything is standing still," He said, it's time for you to move.  This time, He was calling us to m-o-v-e.  Once again faced with a choice: to walk forward in obedience, or to let fear paralyze us.  Once again, we knew we didn't want anything left on the table.  We didn't want to look back and say, "What if we would've...really, we should have."

So here we sit, out of Ur, and away from our loved ones and places.  Out of Ur, but not yet in our Promised Land, this is a difficult place to be.

Today we take down our Christmas tree.  Just a tree, but this particular year it's symbolic of so much more for us.  A Christmas out of Ur, and yet it felt like home with our family here with us.  Time spent cherishing and celebrating, it is now time to take down the tree.  It's time to move forward in obedience and with grace and with courage, even though at times we don't feel like it.  We're not home here, even though this is where He called us to go.  Somewhere, there's home, but we do not yet know where that is.  Again, He's calling us out.  Why does He think we need so much practice with this obedience?  It creates an uncertain and uncomfortable feeling, yet there's hopeful expectation at the knowing that all His ways are good.

I've felt this way before, and indeed continue to feel this way with regard to our adoption process.  We heard the call.  We made the choice.  We made the move.  We experienced miracles.  But we did not (yet?) reach the Promised Land.  It's crazy.  This crazy love which keeps us moving forward, pursuing what He has for us, believing in something we cannot see. 

Flight Into a New Dream

Sometimes dreams die.

It can happen for a myriad of reasons.  Hearts change.  Visions and goals change.  Life situations change.  Sometimes it happens because hope is lost.  Sometimes it is for lack of resources, or follow-through.  It can happen gradually over time, or it can be dashed in an instant.  Sometimes it is welcome.  Other times it is not. Sometimes it is because you let it die.  Other times it is out of your control.

I have a story to tell of a dream that is dying.  It is not welcome.  It is not in our control.  Visions and goals are needing to change, yet our hearts have not changed, and hope is not lost.

In 2010 God spoke.  "Bring one of mine home into the family and the home I have blessed you with," He said.  Our hearts were kindled with this vision, and it was frightening and exhilarating all at once. 

There were so many ways to accomplish this; It took a long while to find the path.  We started along many before they were blocked, each in their turn.  We took a blessing of a detour, as we put things on hold in order to grow and welcome and enjoy our Zachary Asher.  Yet when it was time, we resumed our journey.  We were adopting an Ethiopian child. 

We have invested much in this journey.  Our hearts, our privacy, years of our lives, thousands of dollars.  So many of you have come alongside us (and we thank you...so very much.)  Even complete strangers have come along us and assisted and encouraged us in this journey.  It's humbling.

the mounds of paperwork

the home visits

the multitude of trips to obtain needed documents

the multiple fingerprinting

the re-fingerprinting (at all sorts of inconvenient, government-appointed times)

the fundraising efforts

the scrimping to save

the heartache of knowing there was a child waiting for us, clear across the world

And oh how we wanted him or her or them to come home to us. 

During these last three years, we've dreamed about that phone call which would say we had been matched with our child(ren).  We dreamed about the traveling to meet her, and the visit to the orphanage.  We dreamed of having someone hand us a beautiful, hand-knit-by-the-Lord, little brown bundle....of the tears we'd shed as we smiled in disbelief that we'd be entrusted with such a precious gift.  We dreamed of returning home, and introducing our sons to their new sibling(s).  They too, have dreamed about this.

These investments and sacrifices and hopes and plans do not change that Ethiopia is closing to inter-country adoption, however slowly.  Nobody can tell us with any confidence that we will be matched at all.  If by miracle we would be matched before a complete closing, it would be no sooner than 2016.  And so we are left to grieve our Ethiopian child that might have been ours to love.  Our dream is dying.

I want to hold on to it, but the funny thing is, when certain dreams die, the seeds still remain. 

 

 To hold on to those old dreams would be to squeeze them and smash them so that they could no longer take the flight needed to give birth to the new dream.  

  

So we'll try and let it go, gracefully.  As this door is closing...when the answer is "no, not this way,"we'll continue to look and see how He's leading us in another way for adoption.  This, amid tilting my face to the sky as I question, "Why did You have us go so far and invest so much, just to say "no"?

"Because," He says, "My plans are good and perfect for you, and I want you to watch as I make something beautiful out of this dying dream."

Waiting....Waiting...Praying....Loving...Waiting

Several people have been asking, so here's the latest on the adoption train.  We've reached the point in our adoption process where there is very little update to give.  Paperwork has been completed and approved and sitting with our representatives overseas for several months now.  It's been a year and a couple months since we sent out that first packet of papers which set it all into motion. 

Of course our hearts had already been set into motion for quite some time.  Still, it was a big deal to take those first "real" steps.  I remember taking these photos for posterity...thinking how appropriate it was that the flower bulbs were just beginning to stretch up through the dirt.  We were just beginning that process ourselves, in a sense.

It was exhilarating...and also so very frightening to be stepping out of our safe, warm earth-of-sorts.  

Throughout this past year or so, we've continued to take a lesson from those plant bulbs.  We just slowly, methodically, patiently keep pushing through.  At times this is easy.  At other times, it is difficult.  In either case we just enjoy this beautiful, messy, blessed life we're privileged to live.  

Daily we look into five sets of breathtaking, summer sky-blue eyes...

...and daily we dream of the breathtaking, chocolate brown eyes that we haven't yet had the honor of looking into.

Eyes of a child who was thought of and planned for and loved before the existence of time.  Just as I was thought of...and planned for...and loved.  Just as you were thought of...and planned for...and loved.  (Do you know that?)

What amazing love is this.  

And so, we wait and pray...continue to build up funds, and all the while we live this blessed life with all it's goodness and challenges.  We celebrate this week especially, but every day of every year, the sacrifice that was made to show us what true love really is.  

Stackin' 'Em Deep

"...another year over, a new one just begun."

With this year's Christmas over, and a new year about to begin, I've gotten into my annual planning, cleaning, goal-setting, and de-cluttering mode.  On my mind today--the fact that we are with thanksgiving, "expecting" once again--this time via paperwork and several airplanes.  This got me thinking, and smiling, about how different it is to be expecting at this stage of parenthood.

With our first baby, the whole, new, blessed World of Baby had opened up.  In addition to learning about pregnancy, we read all about new baby care and baby gear.  What things would we need?  We eagerly questioned seasoned parents, made lists, and went on shopping trips.  Cribs, highchairs, strollers, car seats, Boppy pillows, pumps, bibs, baby clothes--we needed it all, and obtaining the gear was definitely a focus in preparing for baby.

While expecting babies #2 and #3, the focus of preparation was quite different.  We had our stash of baby basics, and the name of the game was replacing what was worn-out, and finding a few, fun, new things.  With #2, we acquired a second crib, which also came in handy when #3 was coming along.  In each of these cases, we also needed to do some switching around of bedrooms, sending the newly-usurped, baby-now-toddler into a downstairs bedroom to open up the upstairs nursery for the newborn.  This, of course, was a fairly big deal...or at least it seemed like it back then.  As mama, I felt a little sadness over the toddler's deportation.  This was quickly abated by the satisfaction given to my nesting instinct, however! 

Those of you who have known us for awhile, probably know we thought we were "done" at that point.  (HA!  That is such a funny thought now!)  Three sons filled the three extra bedrooms in our home.  As baby #3 grew into a pre-schooler, I tearily cleaned out the nursery.  We sold the cribs; in fact, we gave away or sold nearly everything "baby."  We sent our preschooler downstairs to share bunk beds in a room with a brother, and enjoyed the novelty of a bedroom-turned-school room for some time.  Soon we packed all three of the boys into the same bedroom so that, wonder of wonders, we could have TWO extra rooms.  Right around that time, we received the gift of an unexpected blessing--son #4 growing inside, biding his time until joining in on the fun that is Boyland! 

With #4 on the way, we needed to re-acquire the baby stuff.  This time, however, we were pretty choosey about what we wanted to bring into the house.  It had to be necessary.  It had to be SMALL.  We did not want fifteen musical toys, nor did we want most of the baby bells & whistles.  There just wasn't room.  It became apparent that the three growing boys who shared a bedroom were packed in there fairly tight with all their stuff.  Also, bedtime was becoming...interesting....with all the goofiness and banging and clanging.  What was going on?  Were we lenient parents with undisciplined children?  No.  I've actually been coined a "tough mom" and just recently found out that the exuberant children are intentionally placed in my Vacation Bible School class.  The banging and clanging and never-going-to-sleeping was simply due to the Rule of Multiple Boys, which is--the more boys you have in a row, the louder and crazier and more competitive things become.  Quite simply, they always think someone else is going to be blamed for the deed.  BUT let us return to the case in point, which is baby preparation.  With baby #4 preparation was about basic baby needs, and rearranging for maximum space!

We serve an awesome God.  He gives gifts how and when He chooses, and I'm so glad He does.  Suddenly we found ourselves beginning our adoption process AND becoming pregnant with son #5!  Preparation for #5 became all about logistics.  How will we fit the boys in our van?  How will we fit all these rapidly growing boys in bedrooms?  We bought the smallest, most streamlined car seats we could find and stuffed them in every seat in the van.  We built another set of bunk beds.  We ditched the toddler bed and put a rail up on a bunk for the toddler.  We bought the smallest high chair we could find, because we're maxed-out for table places.  It's snug.  It's cozy.  It's home, and we love it.

Meanwhile...these boys keep growing.  They take up more space, their clothes and other belongings take up more space.  We keep a thrift/yard sale box handy for constant de-cluttering.  Our rule is, "It must be functional or fabulous!"  We've built shelving wherever there's room to house shelving.  We've even begun to hang things (literally hang things) from the ceiling, in some cases!  And I've got to tell you--that I LOVE the fact that there are so many people taking up so much space in here!  I love this life-filled house, where something interesting is always happening. 

But it's time for planning and preparation once again, and as we make preparations for baby #6, and possibly #7, it's all about making room!  We find ourselves with a toddler who is ready for a booster seat, but there's no room for another chair, and very little room for another place setting.  Definitely no room at the table for the next baby (or two!) on the way.  There's no room for a larger table, unless part of it hangs in the living room, which has its own space issues.  Transportation-wise, we're maxed out for van space, so we're stashing money for a replacement vehicle that will accomodate another one or two precious souls.

We're stackin' 'em deep, and bursting at the seams--and I'm SO thankful.  I hope that shines through and that my thoughts on our space issues don't sound complaintive.  I'm so incredibly thankful for the fullness of this home, and I'm thankful for every square inch (even on the ceiling, as it's proving to be somewhat useful!) we've got.  It's a heck of a lot more than most people on this planet have.  But I'll be honest...I'm also feeling.....squished.

There is a nagging insecurity of mine that I will dare to share.  I've found that throughout this adoption process I feel like there's a bit of a spotlight on every financial decision we make.  We've made no secret out of the fact that we feel called to do this adoption debt-free.  All $25,000 needs to come above our basic, family operational expenses.   We believe God can and will do this.  We've seen Him do it in the $10,000 we've laid-out so far.  He does it in a number of ways.  So far, we've seen Him provide through our fundraising efforts of yard sales and shirt sales.  We keep a strict budget and of course, part of that is allocated to our adoption expenses.  He has provided funds from friends we've known for years, new acquaintances, and perfect strangers.  We're thankful for every penny, as every penny is needed.  The insecurity I speak of comes from this--that we DO appreciate, beyond-words, all support we have and will receive.  With that, comes a sense of responsibility that suddenly the decisions we make may be perceived in a variety of ways.  So, as we've raised the possibility of building on to our home in order to provide some breathing room and a bit of space to stretch-out in, I find myself asking if this is wrong.  Where does this doubt come from?  And is it right to feel that way?  Is it wrong to feel that way? If we weren't in the adoption process, these questioning thoughts would never enter my mind.  We'd make whatever decision with as much wisdom as we could, and move on confidently.

I've talked a bit with a couple other adoptive families about this.  They have said they felt the same way about decision-making during the adoption process, right, wrong, or indifferent.  One person stated, "I even wondered if it was ok for us to have any fun."  I know that feeling--that feeling of wondering if someone will judge whether you are sacrificing enough or not.  The feeling of wondering if someone will judge you for taking your family for a dinner, or for buying a Kaladis.  Something tells me that it's not necessary to feel that way, yet it's not so simple to just not feel that way when you're in a constant state of fundraising. 

As with many of my posts, I get to this point, and wonder, why am I bothering to articulate this?  Perhaps you are wondering, too!  Well, like I said, it's an insecurity of mine, and maybe the real reason is just to work it out in my own mind using the written word.  Maybe, in this case, it's also to share with the general reader that there are so many, emotional facets to this adoption train. Admittedly, it may also be in some way to ease the conscience of this burden of doubt until I can be truly freed from it.

Bottom line is that we all must make our own decisions and our own sacrifices.  The extent of sacrifice is only truly known by the one who sacrifices, and by the One who sees.  I'm thankful for everything we have; it is all a gift from Him.  I'm thankful for being the recipient of others' sacrificial giving; we cannot do this alone.  I look for wisdom and guidance in all preparing, decision-making, planning, goal-setting, housecleaning, heartcleaning, decluttering, and expanding...and I also ask God to grant me peace in it all.

Peace be with you and yours in 2013!

What's Going On?? Adoption Update...

Many of you have asked, and probably even more have wondered, what's going on with the Dassow's and their adoption?  The quick 'n' dirty version is on the sidebar.  Continue on for the more detailed account!

The latest, biggest news is that we're near the end of putting together our dossier!  WHAT is a "dossier"?  Complements of Wiktionary:

Pronunciation

• DOSS-EE-AY ; 'do' as in dot, 'ss' as in hiss, 'ee' as in wee, 'ay' as in day: DOt,hiSS-wEE-dAY; DOSS-EE-AY

Etymology

From French, see below

Noun

dossier (plural dossiers)

1. A collection of papers and/or other sources, containing detailed information about a particular person or subject, together with a synopsis of their content. 

This stack of papers has taken months of effort, quite a bit of the green stuff, and more than a little patience.  I am one of those strange people that like paperwork, and yet this was a stretch for me.  The biggest challenge was all the waiting to secure documents.  There was nothing we could do to speed things along...we just...had...to wait.   I must admit, however, that when I express-mailed that puppy off to our agency this morning, I admired how official it all looked, complete with rivets and beautiful seals from three states.  And just for the record, the Wisconsin State-Certification seals are rockin'.

Tomorrow, assuming they give momentary grace on the $698 we are currently short on our dossier fee, our agency will do their second review of our documents, bundle them together into a single document, and express-mail it on to Washington D.C.  It will be sent to a courier there, whom we pay to walk it down into the Department of State to be authenticated.  After that step is properly accomplished, it will be walked down to the Ethiopian Embassy for a second authentication.  This process could take about three weeks.

When the above process is finished, our dossier will be returned to our agency, processed in their office, and then sent on to their in-country coordinator.  We will wait...and wait...and wait upon God's perfect timing...to be matched to our child(ren.)

In the meantime, what are we doing?  We're living a full, wonderful, blessed life.

We're learning much about our future child's birth culture.

We're giving thanks for God's provision, while working on saving and stashing more green stuff.  We've still got a long way to go where this is concerned.  Good thing my Papa owns the cattle on a thousand hills. Always looking for creative ways to continue fundraising.  I'm currently in the painting-cool shirts-business!  These make great gifts, and are yours for a minimum donation of $15 (shameless plug.)

 And, last but certainly not least, we're continuing to pray for and to dream about this little person across the world. Because, even though we've not yet met him or her or them, we miss them.

Thinking of you

Tony and I are winding down in the quiet stillness of evening.  Our five are snuggled safely and soundly in their beds, bodies blissfully resting after warm hours of play in the spring air and sunshine.  But...one...or two of us are missing.

I'm thinking of you tonight, as I often do...as I often have over the past nearly two years.  Are you cold?  Are you hungry?  Are you lonely and missing the arms of your mother and father and brothers?  Are you even born yet?  Are you even conceived yet?  Whatever the answers to these questions, you remain in our hearts and in our dreams and in our prayers.  Most importantly, you remain in our Father's care.  We pray He'll bring you home to us soon, because even though we've not yet seen you or held you,

we miss you.

Stuff

It happens to me the last week of every year. I begin to feel closed in and smothered by "stuff" and feel an overwhelming urge to pare down, organize, and label. The decor which added such a feeling of cozy warmth just a month ago now hems me in, and begs to be put back to rest in storage. I have no issues with returning seasonal decor to storage, but organization is a huge stretch for me. It is not my talent--at all. I don't like to be wasteful, and so paring down is difficult for me. I always seem to come up with ideas for why or how something could become useful at some point. The problem with this line of thinking, is that the opportunity for a given object's use may not come along for a loooooong time. I am also not the best organizer. Few things aggravate me more than complete disorder and disarray; however, coming up with a plan to avoid this is difficult for me. My husband, who is masterful in this area, gave me a tip:

"If it is not FUNCTIONAL or FABULOUS, it has to go."

Also, I have an unusual task this year, in that I am trying to disassemble our school room. I need to find a way to fit six years' worth of books, kits, and supplies into 1/2 of the nursery closet and book shelves throughout the house. It's been such a treat having a room set aside for all of our school books and supplies, and I feel rather sad to give it up. However, it is time--time to make room for more beds for more little people! So far, I have about 1/4 of it moved and in place.

Has anyone else noticed how organizational projects turn into a series of rabbit trails? In bringing up school supplies to the nursery closet, the nursery had to be totally cleaned out and organized. The baby books that were in the closet had to move to the changing table shelf, so the blankets on the changing table shelf needed to be pared down and either boxed up or put in the sale pile. This brings me to another topic--the high mountain and sea of boxes which is the sale pile. We've been saving all our left-over items from October's adoption fund-raising sale for our planned fund-raising sale in May. I am so thankful for all this "junk" which will hopefully become someone else's treasure come May...which will bring us one step closer to bringing home that wonderful child of ours who is waiting out there--somewhere....but WOW. We have some serious STUFF around here. As I read this, I am chuckling to myself. Indeed even talking about organization has become a rabbit trail of it's own. sigh. Well anyway, I'm REALLY looking forward to sending May's left-overs away!

Here is what I struggle with. I do not want to be ruled by stuff. Stuff takes up my very most valuable resource--time. It takes energy to maintain whatever I allow to clutter up this space of ours. It takes time away from my family which could be used much more resourcefully. Things have to be cleaned. Things have to be maintained. Things have to be organized. Things have to be put away. It is lots of fun to have toys for my children to play with, for example. However, if there are certain toys that are constantly underfoot and I am constantly nagging at little people to pick up, then I am allowing things to rule me. I'm allowing things to dictate my mood and I'm even at times allowing things to affect my dearest relationships. Wow that sounds ugly. Wow that is truth. For the most part, the boys have been trained well in this area, and pick-up well according to their ages. So one of two things needs to occur: an adjustment of my attitude or the said stuff has to go good-bye. If I go into my bedroom to retire for the night, and cannot feel peaceful because there's a stack of junk all over the dresser and the closet is stuffed with I-don't-even-know-what, it has to go. Most of the things that clutter my life I don't even care to have, but just haven't taken the time to remove. (Probably because too much time has been taken up trying to move it out of my way!)

Being a middle-class family living in the USA, we are one of the very richest 10% in the entire world. Interesting how the enemy can use either lack of stuff or over-abundance of stuff to steal peace.

Off the Deep End

We've had some BIG developments with the adoption plans here in Boyland this week. (big breath)

We found out we've been chosen to parent a baby....a caucasion baby....due sometime in June.

Interestingly, this baby will probably look a lot like Tony and I....YES. We just discovered that God has blessed us with a new little person inside! This has been a very wild, unexpected turn of events for us. Some may say after sixteen years of marriage we'd have better control over these things...but really, it's not for us to control. We've always left the option open. This was perfectly orchestrated timing...though not by us.

We're really excited to be, God-willing, welcoming TWO new ones into our family in the near future...

...because we're still following through with our adoption plans...

We're still researching and planning to see more of what our adjusted time-table looks like. We'll be welcoming our little one by birth and settling in before we can follow-through with some of our adoption details. There are still many things that we'll, God-willing, continue with now, before our baby-by-birth arrives. You may ask, "Are we CRAZY?" Do you really need to ask?! We know, however, that this is God's plan for us. He is the dream-giver, and the One who put this into our hearts. We have a child waiting to be born, and a child waiting somewhere in the world for us to come to her. We don't want to miss out, and so, we've closed our eyes, taken a deep breath and jumped off the deep end. It's an invigorating, and sort of scary place to be!

Yesterday, the morning after we found out our big news, I opened up my Max Lucado devotional and here's what the Lord had to say to me:

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? Psalm 27:1

Jesus says the options are clear. On one side is the voice of safety. You can build a fire in the hearth, stay inside, and stay warm and dry for what you don't try, right? You can't fall if you don't take a stand, right? You can't lose your balance if you never climb, right? So don't try it. Take the safe route.

Or you can hear the voice of adventure--God's adventure. Instead of building a fire in the hearth, build a fire in your heart. Follow God's impulses. Adopt the child. Move overseas. Teach the class. Change careers. Run for office. Make a difference . Sure it isn't safe, but what is? --Max Lucado

We have one shot at this, People. One human life to live, and one legacy to leave. What is it that He is whispering in your heart? What chance is it He's asking you to take? Let's not miss out on a single adventure or blessing He has for us.

We're Saying YES

Lots to say here, so you may want to grab a cup of coffee or tea. I'm about to share my heart on a matter. Ok. Deep breath.

Tony and I have been beyond-blessed by our quiver of little men. Never in my wildest imaginings did I think I'd find myself the mother of FOUR boys! Words cannot even express my gratitude that my Creator saw fit to place me in this role. I LOVE being a mother. After Little Knight number 3 was born, we thought we were probably "done". Why? Well, it just felt like we had what we could handle. After he was born (and actually even before he was born,) it hit me like a ton of bricks, and although I was enjoying every fleeting moment of our newborn wonder, I couldn't shake the anxiety I felt over being "done". During those days when he was so tiny, I would cry...and I would blame it on postpartum depression. When he was two, we cleaned out the house. We sold or gave away most everything "baby"...and I cried again. I cried when someone came to buy the crib. I cried when someone hauled away the high chair. I outright bawled at the thought of getting rid of the last remaining, tiny blue outfits. I remember Tony saying to me, that if getting rid of certain things made me so sad, I should just pack those things up and save them. Someday, I'd wonder why I had kept those things and then I'd just get rid of them. "Besides," he said, "We could always adopt." The day that I would wonder why I kept back that tote-full of baby clothes never came for me. That tote always remained a symbol of "just in case"...

Upon finding out we were expecting precious little knight #4, we were somewhat surprised. However, what started out as a momentary, small shock that we really weren't "done" after all, soon turned into elation over having a new baby! I cherished every moment of my pregnancy. I LOVE pregnancy. I LOVE birth. I LOVE babies. After Keiki was born, and we were experiencing the all-out JOY of having a new member of the Brotherhood, it hit me that there was no way I could close out the possibility of more children. New life is just too precious--too sacred. He was so wonderful, and added such goodness to our family. I did not feel the slightest bit ready to call it quits, and was unashamed to admit it. I have not-so-slyly continued to make mention to my husband of having another child, and Tony has sweetly continued his jokes about buying a "short bus", calling me a "Catholic in a protestant's body". (I hope that doesn't offend any of my Catholic friends!)

Earlier this year, we had a real heart-to-heart on the matter. Long story short, Tony mentioned again (we've mentioned it several times through the years) the possibility of adoption. "It just seems like the right thing to do when there are so many children who need homes." At that moment something unexplainable happened. Adoption took root in my heart. Or maybe it's that it was always there....the "adoption gene", as it is called.

We had mentioned it through the years while talking about how many children we hoped to have. I have been touched personally by adoption. My two younger cousins joined our family through adoption. It touched me very deeply as a young girl to experience their joining into our family. At the moment when my husband mentioned it as a genuine possibility for us, however, something took root and began to grow wildly out of control. In July, I began researching with a vengeance. Those of you who know us well, know that is just our style. We pull out the charts and graphs and spreadsheets. A stack of books finds its way onto the living room table. We have been amazed at how much there is to learn. We've been floored by how complex it all is. And yet, we keep coming back to the same matter of importance:

There are an estimated 147 MILLION children in this world without forever families.

We can choose to do something about that. We have hearts that are open to love. We have a loving home that will only improve by the presence of more children. We believe people are assets, not liabilities. We love being parents. We are far, far from perfect, but there are so many children who need someone to be their parents. We say YES.

We are full of questions. We are battling fear. We have felt peaceful about specific paths and had them blocked. Yet now there is a name and precious little girl's face that spurs us on. Whether this particular sweet girl is ours? Well, we'll just place one foot in front of the other and see where it leads. We will need a lot of money, and we know we are called to do this debt-free. We do not know how this will happen. Yet that flame that was conceived in my heart has been fanned into a raging fire...and the other option--to turn back--is not an option. My mother-heart has wrapped around this one. Somewhere in this world there is a child who is waiting for us to bring her home.

I was an orphan once. Pitiful and lost. The God of all creation, the Author of adoption, invited me into His forever family.

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Bawling--Sobs of JOY!

Oh my goodness...you all have GOT to click on this site and watch this (October 20) video of our dear friends meeting their precious, new baby daughter in Seoul! We have been knit together with this family in prayer for their long-awaited baby girl for years. I mean seriously...it has been years in process and our amazing God is bringing it to fruitition. Grab some kleenex, turn up the volume and check this out: Meeting Molly Howell And then, please join in praying for this incredible family.