Day of Truth

6 months ago, right before Thanksgiving, we met our son. Everything changed that day, in a thousand good ways. My heart has not been the same since that moment, and I hope it never goes back to the way it was before. Since we are at our 1/2 year mark in knowing him, and he has been home now for 3 months, I wanted to post my journal entry from the first day I met him. 

 Day 1 in Ghana: We finally departed the plane after 3 flights and 24 hours of traveling, we walked right out side into what felt like a hairdryer. After waiting for what seemed like forever for our luggage in a non air conditioned building, we got through immigration and finally found Boat, our poa. He said that Kwesi was in the car and I couldn't hardly believe it!

We got out to the taxi and i saw nothing, but when I went around to get in the car, there was this tiny brown beautiful Kwesi sitting cross legged in the back of a taxi. Jeremey and I were instantly in love. We had to scoot him into the middle so we could both fit, and I could see the uncertainty. Doing the only thing I could think of, I pulled out a pack of peanuts that I had saved for him from the plane. He liked that! He ate them one by one and held several in his hand for the 5 hrs we were on the road to cape coast. After the peanuts, and an intro to the iPhone 4s he was soon sitting on our laps and looking out the window.

During one of my turns to hold him, he snuggled up to my chest and fell asleep. It was an amazing hour of staring at him just like I did with our other children the minute they were first placed in my arms. I fell asleep staring at his perfectly shaped lips and long curled eyelashes. All I could do was keep thanking God for this precious gift. A gift of life, joy and peace. I am so at peace. I am a better mom and a better person because of the truth in this boys eyes. He is simply amazing. Once we arrived at the hotel, exhausted from our journey we ate dinner ( rice and vegetables) and showered and went to bed. We played with Kwesi on the bed for quite a while and discovered his beautiful smile, dimples and all.

 Day 2 in Ghana: Today we got up very early to get ready for court, but it was running late so we had breakfast with Kwesi and Boat, our power if attorney, at oasis hotel, right by the ocean. It was beautiful. We brought Kwesi two toy cars, which he adores and they go with him everywhere. He stashes them in his pockets. After breakfast we walked to court, waited a while for the judge and finally had "court" in her chambers. She was an amazingly kind Ghanian woman who said, after she declared us his parents, that her prayer is that we do a good job raising him and provide for him a good education so that one day he will be living water and a light to this earth and both she and us will be thankful. Wow. What a true statement.

Kwesi will be a light and living water, I know this because he already is. God has his plans. After court we ate lunch, walked to cape coast and hung out with Kwesi in the room. He is utterly exhausted from all the changes, I am sure it is too much. We just ate supper and discovered that he loves French fries, and rice of course. He likes this spicy tomato sauce on his rice. He loves to stack things, and play with simple things that most children would throw away. He loves peanut butter. When he fell asleep tonight in my arms at dinner, he saw the jar somehow and reached for it when I laid hm down. So for a while he slept cuddling a jar of jif...

Seriously what a life changing blessing. Feels like the moment that I held each of our babies in my arms for the first time after all the labor, or the waiting. That moment where you are pretty sure your heart might explode with all the love and joy that is inside of it because it cannot possibly contain it all.

You honor me by anointing my head with oil.
    My cup overflows with blessings.
⁶ Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me
    all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the Lord
    forever. (Psalm 23:5-6)

Mother's Day: It's Complicated

Tomorrow everyone gets all lovey dovey for their mama's. For a lot of mom's it goes like this: breakfast in bed, card and flowers, cheesy talk in church given by Pastor about how mom's are the best, lunch out, day with the family...blah, blah, blah.

Like many holidays, Mother's Day has kind of lost it's zeal for me. I am thankful for my mom, don't get me wrong...but I don't really think I need to wait until Mother's Day to tell her how much I love her. That just seems a little ridiculous.

It's not all the conundrums of Mother's Day and that it is seemingly another flagrant effort of Hallmark and Hershey's and restaurants to make billions that makes me want to roll my eyes and go back to bed on Mother's Day.

It's that when I look in the eyes of my son, I wonder about his mother. I wonder what she looked like, what happened to her, what brought her to the point of giving up her son? Did she even have a choice? Or did she do the best thing for him to give him food to eat and then just hoped that one day he would have another Mama to wipe his tears?

I look in his sweet little eyes and I wonder what it will be like for him to think about her one day. That day will be here sooner than I know. I asked him if he remembers his mama in Ghana and he says, "no" and then proceeds to talk about the Lego project he is working on.

I wonder if she is still out there. If she is, she must wonder what he looks like now, if he is alive, where he is, and a host of other questions that I cannot wrap my mind around asking myself about one of my own children.

I look in the eyes of my daughter, and I wonder how she feels about having two moms. I wonder how it will effect her later in life, and if it will hurt her precious little heart to know that she is not with the one who gave birth to her. I am kidding myself if I think it won't. But naively and optimistically I will hold onto every shred of faith that I have that we will do a good job at this, and that she won't be a damaged wreck. We will speak the truth in love to her so much that she will know that the GOD of the universe has a perfect plan for her life and that is all that matters.

Mother's Day for me will never be my own between me and those who call me "mama". I share it with two birth moms, which suits me just fine. I don't feel jealous. I mostly just feel sad that half of our children will always feel the longing, wondering, curious, angry, sad, and sometimes joyful feelings because of having a birth mom and me.

I look in the eyes of our bio kids, and I remember the day that they each came into this world. I remember my first childbirth, and how I thought it would never end. I remember thinking I would never sleep again. I remember my second childbirth, and how the post-labor french toast and bacon (two servings of each) was seriously the best meal I have ever eaten and if I close my eyes I can picture it and taste it right now all over again. I think of the blessing that both of those children have brought to us. And I am thankful for the fact that they have a mama. and a daddy.  

One thing is for certain, God intended them all to be mine. To be ours. Through the pain and the tragedy of their birth moms lives, through the blessing of adoption, or through the triumph of birth. And that I will never doubt. I can't possibly fathom life without any of them.

All of our children under one roof makes me feel complete..almost. But certainly full of joy, so for that I am eternally grateful to the birth moms who made hard choices in their baby's lives in a weird way that makes me feel like I shouldn't be. It feels so selfish to get so much joy out of something that fell apart in a way in never should have.

My heart bleeds, I mean literally sometimes I think I feel it oozing out of my chest, for the millions of children who have NO ONE to call mama. Can you imagine, I mean really picture it in your mind for a moment, what that must feel like? No mama to sing you lullabies, to make your favorite sandwich and cut off the crust even though you know you are supposed to eat it, to tuck you in, to read you books...No mama to kiss your boo-boo's, to wipe your brow when you have a fever, to see you off to your first day of school and then welcome you with open arms every day when you come home,...No home. No bed. No mama.

I will selfishly keep going until I die. They are my cause. They are my heart. If I love them as much as I love myself, I know that myself would not enjoy not having a mom. Myself would be utterly heartbroken and in despair. And I would never leave myself heartbroken in despair for long. If God allows me to be the mama to more, I will do it with all my heart and not expect a darn thing on Mother's day =) 

A Look In the Mirror..Approaching 30

Sometimes I just feel like writing. I do not hardly ever know what I am going to write about but I sit down, and out it pours. I am almost 28. Maybe that's why I'm so philosophical all of a sudden. (sarcasm).

Thinking about my last 28 years, I look at my 4 sweet children, dressed up in play-clothes, running about, making huge messes, in all their glory...and I am just in awe over this life God has given me. I love those children so much it's nearly painful.  I sometimes don't know how I got here.. but it's a good feeling. 

Then there is the feeling approaching 30 where I look in the mirror and go, "holy crap I have been eating too many brownies..where did those love handles come from!?...oh dear God is that cellulite?!" One day at a time, one choice at a time, it all adds up to today....

About a month ago, after my last post, I took a long look in the mirror of my heart and had to really work through some forgiveness issues with others and myself. It was hard. Like when you look in the mirror and you don't really like what you see so you just walk away quickly and pretend you didn't notice what was there. It was easier to ignore the issue, but God wouldn't let me keep ignoring it.

James says that "If you listen to the word and don't obey, it's like glancing at your face in a mirror. You see yourself, walk away, and forget what you look like. But if you look carefully into the perfect law that sets you free, and if you do what it says and don't forget what you heard, then God will bless you for doing it." 

I don't always like what I see in the mirror. I strongly feel that my nose is too big, my teeth could be whiter, I have pride marks from having babies...and my once "perfect" legs are now a little veiny and pasty! But more than those things, I don't always like when God's word forces me to look at my heart and see things that need change.

It is hard to realize that unforgiveness sneaked up on me. It makes me mad when I have to face the fact that I have a few issues with pride, or that I need a deeper respect for spiritual authority that has been placed over me. It boggles my mind when I realize that I have given anger a foothold. After all...I know better. How can I walk away from the mirror and forget what I know to be true?

Rather than ignore these things...and walk away and forget what God has told me and what I know is true. I have to face them. So I look in the mirror, God's word, and pray that He can change me again. And He has. 

This last month I reflected on unforgiveness and weeded it out of my heart. It hurt a lot. I was holding on to that one pretty good. I let go of self-pity and threw my anger back at God and told him to take it from me. I put down my pride. Again. I opened my heart to God's instruction on spiritual authority...that one is still a definite work in progress. 

But now I can see clearly who I am. I feel renewed and refreshed. The mirror is no longer cloudy. I am not walking away ignoring it. And this is where the will of God comes crashing into my life because I am ready for it now. 

Over and over in my life I will have to take up my cross and follow Him. Whatever He wants with me, it's HIS. I will HOLD NOTHING BACK. To hold nothing back, I have to let go of IT ALL. And not be afraid to look in the mirror.

When Motherhood Just Gets Ya Down!

This week was a hard week. What's funny is that is wasn't the kind of hard I expected. Not the "honeymoon wore off, I wanna pull my hair out cuz this new child in the family is driving me crazy and now I feel really bad that I thought that" kind of hard. No...I'm still head over heels for our precious Kwesi. He still lights up my world, and makes me laugh, gives me sooo much joy. 

This week was just one of those weeks where I am struggling with forgiveness. Yeah I said it. The youth pastor's wife that seems always so happy and loving struggles with forgiveness? Say whhhat? Forgiveness of others who have hurt me and didn't seemed to care or notice, or at best argued their defense. Forgiveness of others who have hurt people I care about deeply and seemed not to care...or notice...and argued their defense. I'm dealing with that...but I'm also trying to forgive myself. 

I have been a Christian (well, one who lives like a Christian) for 10 years now. almost exactly. I know God forgives me but man I HATE SIN!!!! I know what God says about forgiveness, that we have to forgive others to be forgiven. But what about when you can't forgive yourself? I wonder if God can forgive us when we can't/won't forgive ourselves.. it's like this big tangled web sometimes that I just can't seem to find my way through. 

This week Jeremey worked A LOT. He was really enjoying the work and having a great attitude about it, realizing it was just a crazy week and this too shall pass. I, on the other hand, wasn't doing so well with my newfound career of juggling four children and all that it entails...and school...and housework...and friends. and family. and and and. That's the word that always in my mind...AND!!!! I need to this AND that!!!! oh AND I still have that to do too! Anyway, I digress.

Not having the best attitude, and giving into my emotions I really have done a terrible job at being a mother this week. I have been snippy, grumpy, snappy, and sometimes just mean. It's hard to even write that because I want it to just go away! But it doesn't. Sometimes it just gnaws at me...if people only knew the other side that sometimes comes out. Kinda like how nearly ALL of our moms could be in the middle of screaming, "Go clean your room! Stop kicking your brother! Eat your spinach RIGHT NOW!"  and then the phone would ring and, "Well, hello Meredith! How are you doing today and how is that sweet family of yours?.... Oh yes, we are doing perfectly thank you!" Barf! 

So.. I remind myself that I am not perfect. But I am who God made me. And for the most part I really like the way God made me. But unfortunately I struggle with sin just because I am human. For a minute God just kinda showed me what it looks like from his perspective. One of our beloved children (who shall remain anonymous) is ALL sweet and amazing or ALL naughty and horrific ALL the time. There is never an in-between. And sometimes this child gets themselves in a downward spiral of naughtiness that can only be fixed with a heart to heart, eyes to eyes, truthful and real conversation about the battle inside. And a prayer. Then through tears, this precious child usually gets up, dusts off, and walks out of the room back to their sweet amazing self. 

Here's my point. At that moment, all of my anger with so-and-so is totally gone. I have tears in my eyes myself as I am so thankful that he/she talked to me about it all, and that they finally stopped the whirlwind of trouble and sought forgiveness and repentance. I forget the offense. I remember the new, fresh start and am excited for them to start over because a fresh start just feels good doesn't it?! Isn't that on some level how God must feel? He isn't sitting there looking at me going, "Even though you are truly sorry, I am tired of this conversation. I don't know why you continue to struggle with sin when you know you shouldn't so go talk to someone else!" No way!!!! He is happy I come to him, He feels what I feel, and gives me a fresh start without remembering my crazy cycle of sin and holding it over my head. That is why I love God so much! 

So...Like a child, here I go again. I am going to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again. Right after I go upstairs, lay on my bed, and talk to my Father in Heaven who loves me more than anyone else. Thank you God for fresh starts. Help me when my feet hit the floor tomorrow not to do a repeat of day. oof-ta! 

Life!

If a picture could say a thousand words...this is it. We had waited for this moment for almost exactly a year from the moment we saw Kwesi's first picture and decided to pursue adopting him. For 7 days, while Jeremey was in Ghana this time- I lost sleep because of all the prayer and excitement that the week brought...and then finally they were on their way! The kids and I were just beside ourselves trying to get through the morning routine and make signs while we waited to go to the airport. 

Jeremey and Kwesi missed their first flight in the U.S. in Atlanta, but he somehow managed to get on a flight to Denver that got them home 2 hours sooner than we had planned! Now THAT is the way to do it! 

After all that waiting...they walked through the door! Aubrey ran straight to Daddy and the rest of us just stood in shock that our 6th family member was finally on U.S. Soil! I wondered all week how Kwesi would take to me after being with Jeremey and all the traveling. To my delight, he looked right at me and smiled from ear to ear, and even let me hold him so Jeremey could take a load off. Then he was off running around the airport with the kids...

Our first week together has been an amazing, happy blur. We have played to our hearts content as a family and bonded with Kwesi in ways I never thought would be possible this early in the adjustment phase. I can TRULY say that he feels like he was always meant to be our son. This breaks my heart because I know that the tragedy is there, and out of that tragedy comes something beautiful. I am thankful though that God knew him in the womb, even though it wasn't mine, and knew that we would one day receive the blessing of this precious boy. All parents say "yes" to being parents when they decide to try to get pregnant. We said "yes" to being his parents when we decided to try to adopt. It really is no different. I selfishly wanted Kwesi to be MINE. to be OURS. 

I am a little disapointed in myself to say this but something about him makes me a better mom to all four of our children. I wish I had learned sooner to laugh more, love with abandon, overlook faults, and give grace while teaching and raising our children in the Lord. I have spent far too much time in the last 6 years of motherhood taking myself to seriously. Each of our children have taught me something about life and made me better. Kwesi has given me so much joy. He is like a refreshing drink of water on a hot day! 

We planned and prepared for a lot of scenarios with bringing Kwesi home that I prayed would not happen, but got training and read up just in case. Well...we have had none of those things happen. It has been the most natural, joyful adjusment I can imagine! We have had to get used to a new level of noise, the boys rough-housing, and making  A LOT more food. I am way behind on laundry and cleaning of pretty much EVERYTHING. lol but I don't even care. 

Our biggest challenge now is reassuring the other 3 children that we still have enough love for them too, they won't get less time with us than before, and that we are living God's plan for our family.

 Grayden asked us last week how we "knew" Kwesi was supposed to be in our family. We told him that we prayed and prayed, and God answered. But he wanted to know how God answered...did He talk to us? So we explained to him how God put Kwesi in our path, and opened wide every door and smashed every obstacle between us and him. I am so thankful for what this is teaching them about faith, God's love, and the radical life that we CHOOSE to live because Christ gave it all for us. 

My heart is too full to even put words on a page. How does one describe an overwhelming joy? It's like the moment you first hold your brand new baby after hours of pushing! lol Our labor pains this time were in our hearts. Not so much in the physical realm but boy did we feel them! Now those struggles are forgotten and we are just thankful to God for a sweet, healthy, bundle of African joy. 

Asking Why Me? Is not my right

Last week, during the first night of a weekend long Life Conference by Jacob Jester, I stood at the altar asking God why in the world He called ME to the things in my life I know He has called me to. I had a Moses conversation with God, letting him know that choosing the person to speak with a speech impediment reallly makes no sense. I had a Paul conversation with God, letting him know that choosing a persecutor of Christians to become a preacher and teacher really makes no sense. I had a Noah conversation with God, letting him know that people really are going to think I'm an idiot for spending so much time and effort building an ark when I don't even know what I'm doing...really makes no sense. I had a Jonah conversation with God, letting him know that in my heart...at that moment...I wanted to run. Not from God, but from my what God's purposes for me are. It is just. too. hard. 

On the outside, people think I have it all together. Or they think I'm a saint. Or those who know me really well, like Jeremey, know the truth. That really I am a mess whose weakness is turned into strength because of  God. 

But having to always be turned upside down, shaken, pushed, pulled, stretched, and molded can be a little tiring at times. And at that moment at the altar I just wanted to walk out of church, my life, my family, and quit. Now, I must tell you I thought it, but I never would have actually done it. I just thought it. But I knew that the fact that I was even THINKING it, meant God needed to do an overhaul on my heart. And He did.

The next night, I went back to the altar. This time only because my dear sweet hubby grabbed my hand and led me there. It was time to wrestle with God like Jacob did when he wrestled with an angel. The Bible says that he wrestled against God and won. He wouldn't quit until God blessed him. Well, that sounded great and all but I didn't even feel like wrestling. So I just sat there, head down, while Jeremey wrestled for me. 

I began to feel peace from God. And joy again. And love again. Then God spoke to me through the prayers of another (I love when He does that). That person spoke over me that God didn't give me visions and dreams just for them to fade away. He gave them to me for a purpose. He hasn't forgotten about me. He hasn't just turned me over to my own desire to give up. He was reminding me, "hey...I have a plan for you daughter and you can't quit!" 

I really let that soak in. Then I read Isaiah 45.

      This is what the Lord said to Cyprus, his annointed one whose right hand he will empower. 

   Before him, mighty kings will be paralyzed with fear. 

      Their fortress gates will be opened, 

      never to shut again. 

 ² This is what the LORD says:

   “I will go before you, Cyrus, 

      and level the mountains.^[a] 

   I will smash down gates of bronze 

      and cut through bars of iron. 

 ³ And I will give you treasures hidden in the darkness— 

      secret riches. 

   I will do this so you may know that I am the LORD, 

      the God of Israel, the one who calls you by name.

 ⁴ “And why have I called you for this work? 

      Why did I call you by name when you did not know me? 

   It is for the sake of Jacob my servant, 

      Israel my chosen one. 

 ⁵ I am the LORD; 

      there is no other God. 

   I have equipped you for battle, 

      though you don’t even know me, 

 ⁶ so all the world from east to west 

      will know there is no other God. 

   I am the LORD, and there is no other. 

    ⁷ I create the light and make the darkness. 

   I send good times and bad times. 

      I, the LORD, am the one who does these things.

 ⁸ “Open up, O heavens, 

      and pour out your righteousness. 

   Let the earth open wide 

      so salvation and righteousness can sprout up together. 

      I, the LORD, created them.

 ⁹ “What sorrow awaits those who argue with their Creator. 

      Does a clay pot argue with its maker? 

   Does the clay dispute with the one who shapes it, saying, 

      ‘Stop, you’re doing it wrong!’ 

   Does the pot exclaim, 

      ‘How clumsy can you be?’ 

 ¹⁰ How terrible it would be if a newborn baby said to its father, 

      ‘Why was I born?’ 

   or if it said to its mother, 

      ‘Why did you make me this way?’”

 ¹¹ This is what the LORD says— 

      the Holy One of Israel and your Creator: 

   “Do you question what I do for my children? 

      Do you give me orders about the work of my hands? 

 ¹² I am the one who made the earth 

      and created people to live on it. 

   With my hands I stretched out the heavens. 

      All the stars are at my command. 

 ¹³ I will raise up Cyrus to fulfill my righteous purpose, 

      and I will guide his actions. 

   He will restore my city and free my captive people— 

      without seeking a reward! 

      I, the LORD of Heaven’s Armies, have spoken!”

And I realized...I don't get to question my calling or my purpose. I MUST do what God has designed me for without questioning him or asking why? No matter how difficult it gets...no matter how much I want to quit. My life is not my own, it is HIS to do with whatever in the world He wants. So if He calls me to one challenging thing after the next until I die, well then...so be it! 

The more He calls me to, the more I have to lean on Him. The more I lean on Him, the closer I get to Him. The closer I get to Him, the more I point others towards Him. The more I point others towards Him, the more glory He gets. The more glory He gets, the more my purpose for life becomes clear. 

He guides me. He equips me for battle. I trust that He knows what He's doing. 

O-r-p-h-i-n

When I was in second grade, I was in a spelling bee at my elementary school. I have always loved words, I mean really. From the minute I could say my abc's I have been playing with words, reading, and spelling. It was down to me and the "smartest girl in the class", Jennifer. We were literally going back and forth and neither one of us was missing a word, until I got the word, "Orphan". I still remember standing in the school gym, on the stage, with the faint smell of old grilled cheese sandwiches, spagetti o's, and green beans in the air. I spelled it in my mind, the right way I think, but for some reason it came out like this, "orphan. o-r-p-h-i-n. orphan". As soon as I said the "i", tears welled up in my eyes because I knew I made a mistake I could not take back. I thought about that word for a long time....

Fast forward twenty some years and I still think about that word alot. This might sound funny, but I think there is a reason why I forgot how to spell it. Kind of like foreshadowing in a book....God was dropping a little something in my soul. It never left. Except now I don't think so much about the word, but about the faces behind the word. I have thought about what it would be like to know that I am an orphan. Or to know that I was one. To not know anything about where I came from, or who brought me into this world and gave me life. What a strange feeling that must be. I have thought about orphans in hundreds of countries, waiting in orphanages for a day that might not ever come. Waiting for hope. I have painted pictures of orphans I have never seen with my own eyes, but they are in my heart.

In November, I got to hold their hands, wrap my arms around them and sing to them. Some of them. It was a moment in my life that I wish I could just transport myself back to whenever I feel like it to relive. It was exactly what God created me for. Loving the ones that have been forgotten. Hurt. Pushed aside. Abandoned. Abused. Neglected. God never forgets about them. I think He holds them in his hand so very tightly that if the hand of God could possibly be pried open for a moment, you would see it imprinted in his palm. 

O-r-p-h-a-n-s.