15 Miles From Nowhere

You know, I really hate fundraising for something for myself (like this adoption.) I have many times just wished we had enough money to afford it on our own. But you know - in the months since we shared our commitment to our family, church, and community, we have seen people come alongside us in amazing ways. We have seen our tribe rise up and support us, even people who really don't know us that well. We have seen how the people in our circle & our greater community value the lives of these children. If we had been able to pay for this all ourselves, we would have missed this. If we could have afforded this adoption we would have probably forever missed knowing exactly how amazing our friends, family, church, and community are. I am convinced now more than ever that this place of overwhelm is where the magic happens. God called us out into this place of overwhelm - this place where we are so out of our depth that we HAD to have a miracle. We went. (I'll admit, we whine...

I hate fundraising for my own adoption, I really do. I just want to be able to write a check and bring these kids home. A little part of me feels like I'm begging people for money. A little part feels like it's my responsibility and maybe I shouldn't ask my friends and family for help. I have a million doubts about fundraising, but at the end of the day, I think of kids stuck in institutions, and I press on. The kids need me more than I need my pride.  I know deep down that it's okay for people to come together to bring these boys home. I know that it allows the story to ripple out and touch more people, but I still don't necessarily like the exercise of repeatedly humbling myself and asking for help. For the last three months I've had a list of fundraisers rolling around in my head, and I've been working on nailing down dates for them all, and coming up with an overall plan to get us funded. It has been a daunting, overwhelming task. Every time I see...

I sit here in this place of radical obedience to God's call - where my entire life is laid out on the altar for what He has called us to do, and the thoughts whir... Here's the thing about radical faith that you don't realize until you dive in over your heads - this is a holy place. This place where I can't possibly finish this on my own, where God HAS TO show up, it's a holy place. It's a place that can make you want to turn around, walk away, and do something sane with your life; but it's also a place that can drive you to your knees. This place can show you God in a way you've never seen Him. All of the sudden you NEED Him. I live a comfortable American life. How many times do I need God? Sure, I need His grace and love every day, but when was the last time I needed Him to handle the logistics of my daily life? It's not very often. My life is pretty smooth. But this place - He HAS TO show up or these kids aren't coming home. It isn't e...

I have a confession. Sometimes it's hard for me to actually comprehend how much God loves me. It's hard for me to really truly understand why He chooses to love such an imperfect human. I don't deserve it. And don't quote the bible to me please - I know what it says. Comprehending that deep in my soul is different than reading it. Not long ago my husband and I attended a prayer conference with some members of our church. The worship there was the most amazing experience of my life. In the midst of this worship we sang a song that I had never heard before, called "Reckless Love." Music speaks to me often, but this time was so powerful - it finally clicked. As I sang, I saw this exact moment in my mind: This moment sums up so much. It was the beginning of a little girl accepting her daddy's love. I've heard repeatedly that adoption is gospel in action. I always brushed it off, but now I see it. Adopting V was reckless. That daddy in the pic...

Finally, a long overdue update on where we are in this adoption... We haven't updated a lot, because this part of the adoption is pretty boring, but very busy behind the scenes. The first step in any adoption is getting a home study done. This is where we hire a social worker to look into our background, finances, home, etc, and determine if we are prepared for another adoption. This process was daunting for our first two adoptions. The first time was, well, nerve wracking because it was the first. The second time was nerve wracking because it was the first international adoption, so very different. This time has been much easier, because it was very similar to the last time, so we knew what to expect. The home study takes awhile, but a lot of that time is waiting - for background checks, for the social worker to have time to come here, for her to write and edit it, etc. Our home study is currently complete and being reviewed by our agency, which is great! We expect to have it ...

Today marks two years since I picked this little spitfire up from the institution. I almost can't imagine her as the little girl in this picture... V's listing picture The girl that we met that first day was deeply locked in her own world. She had constant tics. She had no language. Zero. She is profoundly deaf and had never heard or seen language. She had the self help skills of an infant. We were warned she may never learn. She was a scary choice, but she was God's choice for us, so we bravely made that choice. Well, she learned. She's growing, changing, and learning. Her tics are gone. She's calm and smart and interactive. A couple of weeks home About a month home She's beautiful, vibrant, and sassy. She's smart. Yes, she has a significant intellectual disability, but she can out smart all of us. She figures things out. Language is hard, but it's coming. We stopped counting at 100 signs. She's learning to have simple...

My favorite memory from adopting our sassy girl - as written a few months after it happened, but being shared now - almost 2 years later. Enjoy. :-) When you start the adoption process, you spend a lot of time thinking about the moment you're going to meet your child. It all boils down to that moment. Maybe it's picture perfect for some people - I guess it has to be, since there seems to be plenty of videos circulating the internet, but I'll venture a guess that it's not that way for most people.  Anyway, I digress. So here's our story. I was nervous, in a time zone 8 hours different from home, jetlagged, and I didn't sleep much at all the night before. Our day started at 6am when our facilitator picked us up for the drive. If my memory is correct, the drive from our apartment to our daughter's region was about 2 hours. And guess what? I get carsick! I honestly didn't even think it would be an issue because I rarely get carsick at home - the roa...