A Daughter

On December 9, 2011, a 3 week old, big headed baby girl dressed as an elf showed up at our house. I am not trying to be insensitive. Her head was large and doctors were concerned at her birth that abuse, while she was in the womb, could have caused enlargement. But after an ultrasound, it was determined that she just has a big head. I am happy to report that she has grown into that head! The elf suit made us laugh: Candy cane striped leggings and a green velour top with white trim.

That day we embarked on a lengthy process towards adoption. Over three and a half years later, we gathered (in the very courtroom where her case had been heard multiple times) with family and friends to celebrate her adoption into our family. Kinsey Lorraine Thomas is our forever daughter!

Death by Living

I saw on the news yesterday that Joan Rivers died. I don't know much about this woman except that she is a celebrity and was supposedly funny. While I am certain her family and friends are grieving her loss, I find it interesting what has been quoted of her in regards to her funeral plans. Apparently in a recent book of hers, she stated her elaborate desires. Ms. Rivers wanted her funeral to be the “go to” event with lights, cameras, and the paparazzi. Everybody who is somebody in Hollywood would want to be there. Now I have no idea if this will be how her funeral turns out, but with the publicity she has had this week since her passing I would not be surprised.

I attended the funeral of another Joan this week. The plans she came up with for her memorial were quite different than that of Ms. Rivers. She wanted a small, simple funeral with not a lot of fuss. My Joan wanted the funeral service to honor the King of heaven and earth not her. Her desire was that Christ the Savior of sinners would be exalted not her. Family, friends, and acquaintances knew where Joan’s hope was and where her home is. While my family is sad from the loss of this dear saint, we rejoice that she is in the presence of the One who made her acceptable to God. The disease that caused her death was just the means that the Lord used to bring her home, and she knew that. My conversations with my grandmother the past month were encouraging and spoke of the great testimony of God’s redeeming work. She had no fear in death. Her last words to me as I sat weeping by her side were “This is not the end, but the beginning of something much better.” Praise the Lord!

In regards to her funeral, there were no lights, cameras, or paparazzi. What I witnessed though were sincere people that had been affected by her life on this earth. The funeral home director had our family wait outside the chapel while folks were being seated. When time came for the service to start, we were escorted into the chapel. All seats were taken. Chairs had to be brought in from other locations in the building. People were standing in the back and along the wall. I am certain the fire marshall would not have been pleased. Our family barely had a place to sit. Was it because this was the “go to” event of the year? No. These dear, simple people came to celebrate the life of Joan who loved her Savior and declared that to all she knew. 

There's a new four year old in town

(I started this post a few weeks ago)

This cutie turned four last week. His birthday was filled with activities and food that he enjoys most.

Will took the day off which made it more special. We went to the pool, played games outside, and enjoyed our evening meal outside. 

I remember getting an email from our social worker, Pam, in late June 2010. She said a mom had showed up to the health department wanting to relinquish the rights to her unborn son. This mom wanted to choose a family. Pam asked if we would like to be considered. We were a little hesitant. Why? Our hearts were broken. We were about to say good bye the next day to the sweet baby girl we had been caring for the past five months. Could we risk heartache again? Pam reminded us that we knew all along that Mirah would return to her family (for which we are thankful and she is thriving!)

We told Pam that yes she could throw us in with other potential families for this birth mom to choose from. That was June 24. 

Why did this birth mom show up at the county health dept anyway? She had tried to use a private adoption agency but could not be promised that the adoptive parents would be able to be at the hospital when this baby boy was born. She was insistent that this child leave the hospital with his forever family and not waiting for placement. This is rare. Benji's case had been the first in 12 yrs for a birth mom to show up at our DSS and want to relinquish her parental rights to her unborn child.

On July 1, Pam showed up at our home unannounced. It was supper time when she knocked. She asked to speak to Will and I in private on the front porch. There she told us about meeting Sally(not her real name). Sally was a 20 yr old young woman very purposeful and determined in her mind that she was going to relinquish her rights to the child she was carrying. She told Pam that 8 months prior she had sat in an abortion clinic waiting her turn. When her name was called, she walked out of the clinic realizing she had no right to take a life and then determined to give the child up for adoption.

She asked Pam to see profiles and pictures of potential parents to her child. She didn't get further than ours. She took one look at our family photo and knew. What I love about the reason is that it had nothing to do with me and Will. Yes, she wanted stable, caring, loving parents, but Beau was the one. She said to Pam "This is my son's older brother." How kind of the Lord. We had been passed over for previous adoptions because we "already had a child". But here, Sally choose us because of our sweet Beau! 

We met Sally the following week. She was a determined young woman and very resolved in her decision to relinquish her rights. She set up a birth plan. When she went into labor, she wanted me and our social worker in labor and delivery with her.  It was difficult watching her labor through contractions for nearly 11 hrs. I felt inadequate because I couldn't help with the pain she was bearing to bring my sweet boy (her boy) into the world. When Benji was born(July 17), the nurse wrapped him up and begin to hand him to Sally. This brave one looked at me and said, "That's his mama." He was born at 7 pm one night, and she was gone the next morning by 10am. 

I have often played out the scenario in my mind of running into her one day. I will cry. I will hug her. I will thank her. But mostly I will tell of my thanksgiving to our great God who brought beauty to what seemed a hopeless, sin filled situation. This hasn't happened, and the likelihood is slim. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of her and the noble act of making a decision that benefited this child. He looks just like her, too!

Benji is a spit fire. He will argue his position and stand firm that he is right. His way or the highway. He gets in trouble a lot for this! He is also sweet and thoughtful. He expresses thanks frequently and tells me I am beautiful at the most unglamorous moments! He adores everything about Beau and wants his attention most of the day. Benji's favorite people are his family and spending time with them at home, around the supper table, at the park, beach, pool, or as he would say on an "venture"! (adventure)

I cannot imagine life without this boy. Thank you, God!

Legos with the "old man" dog.

He wants to be where the kids play.

Rainy day Chutes and Ladders with popcorn

My karate kid

A spontaneous trip to a small aircraft museum.

Can't see K's face. 3 stitches on the forehead.

She is our injury prone kid.

Had Beau and Benji stand in front of 'fort'!

I could write all my excuses for not blogging, but I won't. It is late on a Saturday night, my mind is tired, and I need to go to bed. You know what they say, "Sunday morning begins on Saturday night."
But a brief update for our family shouldn't take too long. Sweet K is still not officially ours, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. She likes to carry around different objects. Sometimes a toy spatula goes to Target with us or a fork. It is always random. Here lately a small etch a sketch has been a favorite. She will pretend to write her "special" name and show the cashier. I love her name.

We have been going hard this summer with our church moving to a new building. This has brought new and exciting changes.

I am tempted to think I have a hold on things at home, with schooling, and ministry. I may even try to look like I have it together. But really my children are running circles around me or wrestling in the background!

TPR

We have been waiting a long time to hear a judge rule in favor of DSS and terminate the parental rights of our sweet girl's birth parents. K is 22 months old and has been with us since she was 3 weeks old. She knows me as "mama" and Joe "daddy". The boys are her playmates and accomplices in daily mischief. But when a judge terminated parental rights on Friday, my response was mixed. While I am thrilled that we are one step closer to making K our forever daughter, in no way did I (or Joe) rejoice in the fact that a mother and father lost the right to parent this sweet girl. My heart breaks for this mom even though our adoption of a daughter is in the near future.

A Race

In middle school and high school, I was apart of the track team. I competed in sprinting events. I love to run fast. I always have. I think this from my dad. I can remember as a little girl watching him play softball from the dugout. When he ran the bases, I just assumed he was the fastest man around. And he was, at least to his adoring daughter. One day after track practice in eighth grade, I was feeling pretty confident with myself. I challenged my dad to a race. He was wearing jeans and cowboy boots while I was in full track attire. He smoked me. Needless to say I was brought back to reality.

In a matter of seconds, I was reminded that my dad, at age 35, was faster than his 14 yr old. That is the sure thing of a sprint race. You know the results quick. As an adult, I have attempted long distance running. When I say long distance, I mean 3 miles. I have learned that I do not have the patience to pace myself. I just want the running to stop after the first mile. I give it up to the ladies and gents who run and train for 10Ks, half-marathons, and so forth. I will cheer you on from the sidelines. My problem is I know one speed. I once ran a 5K at 28 minutes. I would run fast for 1/2 mile and walk 1/4 mile then repeat. I am sure you would not find that training regiment on the internet. I started sprinting regularly back in the spring. I try to go out 2-3 days a week and run 100m X 8. I am enjoying it. The children go with me, and I am done in 10 minutes.

This posture that I have towards running spills over to other areas of my life. When faced with a difficult situation, I am ready to find my way out or resolve the matter quickly. I am becoming convinced that this is due to my lack of patience and trust in what God is doing in my life and in the lives of those I love. Recent examples:

It has been 7 years since I have potty trained a person. This time around, I have a little dude who is determined to do it his way. My sweet husband reminds me that this is a short season and toddler Joe will eventually get it. It is hard to see that though when I am cleaning poop out of underwear or consoling my boy when his belly hurts because he refuses to go in the toilet. Not a sprint, but there is an end.

Twenty months ago, we welcomed a sweet baby girl into our family. We knew that adoption was highly possible but may take time. I never imagined it would have taken this long and entail all the drama and continued court hearings. Not a sprint. Possible end in sight.

Our sweet girl has been diagnosed with a seizure disorder. The neurologist also tells us her brain is not normal, but he does not know exactly what is abnormal about it.  May never know. Watching her development is key. When she was released from the hospital after staying for a week in March, the neurologist said, "This is the beginning of a marathon." Me..."Um, excuse me, I don't do long distance. Not what I want to hear. Can't you find something quick and treat it so we can move on from this?" I didn't actually say that, but I thought it. Not a sprint.

I want so much for my ten year old to see sin rightly and run with abandon to Christ; not pining for the temporal pleasures of this world. Not a sprint.

These are just snippets of circumstances the Lord is giving me to respond in faith and trust in His sovereignty. I like quick answers, but God's timing is perfect. Results may not come when I expect, at all, or how I want it to turn out. Here is what I do know. I am Christ's, and he is mine.