Love You from Scratch

Today it hit me in a different kinda way that I love these two little babies so much and I haven't even met them yet. They don't look like me. They don't live near me. I don't know what they look like. They don't speak my language. I don't know what kind of issues they might have. And yet, I love them. Wholly. Implicitly. Irrationally. There's no good reason why I should love my soon-to-be kiddos. I love them from scratch, with no substance to explain why I should. I just do.

I'm sure all mommas feel that way about the babies growing in their belly, but this is just a little weird for me since my body looks the same and my kiddos won't look like me.

Yet, it speaks to how I think God must feel about me, too. I've read Psalm 139:13-14 a hundred times before, and I've read them to countless others whom I've wanted to ensure how God feels about them. But now I feel this way about my little ones:

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.

God's loved me from scratch - before there was anything there to love. I love my babies like that, too. We know our older one is alive somewhere in Ethiopia right now. We bet our younger one is conceived and growing in someone's womb somewhere. In my deepest prayers I have to believe that God's protecting them and preparing their life to be with us. I can't wait to hold my little ones and exclaim to them, "You're breathtaking! I thank God for you! And I promise to know you as best I can from the inside out." I think I can say that because God's said that first about me.

Leaving Comfort for Courage

One of my dearest, oldest friends, Jeanne Stevens, wrote this on her blog. It describes and defines so much why and how we've pursued adopting 2 little ones. When you're finished reading this, check out their blog. It's incredible!

This is a piece I (Jeanne) wrote earlier this year when I was facing one of the regular occurring visitors in my life – FEAR. It has served as a reminder to me when FEAR comes knocking on my door – That my God is faithful and that He called me to courage not comfort.

Courage will always require an element of leaving. Leaving is just plain hard. When My 3 year old knows I’m about to leave he will often squeeze as hard as he can around my neck to lovingly manipulate me into staying one more minute.

.

I know how he feels – because leaving comfort for courage makes me want to wrap my arms around every ounce of safety in my life – hoping if I hold on tight enough that I won’t have to taste the pain of the leaving what I know is inevitable.

Leaving comfort and safety looks and sounds sexy and attractive – but there is nothing sexy about it – in fact I have never felt so vulnerable, small, and needy…. words that are not known for their sex appeal.

Moving from comfort to courage will…
cause you to question your decision.
It will cause you to look around for the safety bars, seatbelt, and any kind of security button.

Moving from comfort to courage will…
cause you to try to make something happen… scheme, make phone calls, send out hail mary e-mails– anything to distract from sitting in the fear.

Moving from comfort to courage will…
cause you to doubt your abilities – you will look at everything that you have failed at in the past… failed relationships, failed financial decisions, failed leadership calls, – and you will wonder will you repeat those patterns and are they indicators to go out and look for comfort again.

Moving from comfort to courage will…
cause you to doubt the author of the calling on your life. Thinking that God is too busy to take care of your little fear

Moving from comfort to courage will…
cause you to be jealous of your neighbors who seem to be perfectly content with their lives – you will wonder if you are some sort of crazy person that has a unhealthy propensity to live on the edge.

Moving from comfort to courage will…
cause you to look for the easy way out.

Moving from comfort to courage will…
cause you to pray like never before… wonder if you know any scripture to cast out the inner demon of doubt.

Moving from comfort to courage will…
cause you to white knuckle yourself around anything that feels secure and semi safe – even though you know earthly security and safety is a mirage and the place where Jesus is, is most where you want to be.

Moving from comfort to courage will…
Cause you to feel weak in the knees – a good indicator that you should stop standing up and get ON your knees..

Moving from comfort to courage will…
Cause others to question you… especially those that have found security to be a bedrock to build their lives on. You will be misunderstood, questioned, and perhaps even seen as foolish.

So today God I feel every one of these fears. I am terrified… straight up terrified. I am calling out to you to be a voice of truth and freedom. Tell me to settle down, to trust you and to release every one of these fears into your arms of faith. I know it is impossible to invite others into a life of obedience if I am unable to live it myself – so today I am re-upping my commitment to obey and be faithful.

I am doing this out of the spirit that lives within – my will wants to go get a job at a church and ask them to take care of all of this. But I know that is not YOUR will. Send your angels to tend to me as I feel the temptation to trust myself today – with obedience I am choosing to trust you.

The Healing Path

One of the tasks of my Sabbatical has been to revisit this painful past year (or two). The author I chose to guide me through is Dan Allender. I've read a number of his books and love everything he has to say. During my Sabbatical, I've been pacing myself through The Healing Path. I've been tempted to race through it because it's so readable and I'm so resonating with it, but I also want to slowly absorb it and let it touch those wounded, tender places in my soul.

One of the more profound truths I've absorbed is quoted from theologian Frederick Buechner,

We are never more alive to life than when it hurts -
more aware both of our own powerlessness to save ourselves
and of at least the possibility of a power beyond ourselves to save us
and heal us if you can only open ourselves to it.

Yes! I've said on a number of occasions in the past few months with the raw pain behind us that I almost miss some of the heartbreak of our infertility journey. Not because I'm a masochist. Not because I wish we were still going through medical treatment. Not because I wish I was pregnant. But because the intensity of my pain allowed me to go to places with God, Brian, myself, and my community that pain-free living does not. I do not wish to go back to those moments of desperation and despair, but I do long to be fully alive (thus my tattoo). And pain does that more than anything.

Of course, I am desperately seeking to live in the change that this journey has produced. I want to live with open hands to God's life-changing power and experience that LIFE in every way, every day. And I want my pain and heartbreak to heal me more and more...