Planting Trees

An older post from a year and a half ago... before we even knew who the twins were.  Another reminder of God's faithfulness to all of our children. We were at the beginning of the adoption process when I wrote this...the twins were just "saplings in our hearts".

I came across this video of Andrew Peterson’s song, “Planting Trees” on a friends blog this morning.  I don’t know how long this video has been around but it was a first time viewing for me and I was drawn in to the beauty of the analogy.

I look out my windows this early morning to fall beauty all around. The focus at this time of year is on the trees…the colors, the falling leaves.

We have lived here on this property for just over 13 years and its been many years now of re-doing, re-building and re-planting.  And I feel a twinge of quilt as I remember in our early years here being just a tad frustrated at my hardworking husband, a lover of trees, as he would spend time on his tree projects. Other short term needs seemed more important at the time such as a curtain rod I was needing hung..you know ladies, those kinds of things. We would tease him and roll our eyes on occasion as he would talk about how he envisioned things to one day be. What trees he would like to plant here and there.

Shawn would often walk down along the creek that borders our property and dig up little saplings that had started to grow in places where they would never flourish.  Then he would gently move them from one spot to another, put a protective plastic wrap around the base to protect from any little critters, and then faithfully haul buckets of water from the creek until they had set roots down deep enough to keep themselves growing on their own.

I remember grumblings from our “bucket brigade” of kids when he planted the flowering pear tears all the way up the lane..all 10 of them.  I actually think there were more than that to begin with but we lost a few, I don’t remember but I am sure that if you asked he could tell you. : )

I write this on the morning of Senior Night for our oldest son, Johnathon.  This will be the last night for him to play a home football game at Fairfield so maybe this is what has gotten me all nostalgic, thinking trees.
As I look out over the beauty of many of our now grown trees I am struck by how accurate the anology of this song really is.  The early years of tender nurturing… the roots starting to go deeper and deeper.  The storms that came through from time to time, sometimes almost killing the tree. One such tree is one of thoseBradfordpears right along the lane.  It is still growing, but will never have the shape it did before, and I am now thankful that we never found the time to cut it down.

One of my “trees” is now almost full grown, and even in this week of preparing for the end of this football era for him, God has given me unique opportunities to observe the growth.  To see the beauty of his unique color, the scars in the bark that testify to the fact that he is a walking miracle.

Another of my “trees” is now taller than both Shawn and I.  He is not the same kind of tree as his older brother and his leaves will fall differently.  A couple of my “trees” are in those middle years, still sinking the roots down in, looking for their own source of nourishment and water.  And our girls, firmly planted, new growth..new beauty.

I am reminded that our family is at another crossroad.  New transplants soon to be arriving.  Little shoots that started to grow in an area where they would probably not survive.  God is tenderly picking them up and it will be our job to love, nurture and protect. To pick good “growing spots” for them. And each of us will be part of that “bucket brigade”…to water. Yes, lots of water.

It would be ridiculous of me to end this post without a special thanks to my husband. For his vision, his patience, his tender strength, even in the uprooting.  His gentleness in pruning, his appreciation of the fruit.
I am so thankful to be em”barking” : ) on this new tree planting with you.  Thank you for 19 (now 20) years of helping “create our current landscape”.





(If you are enjoying reading...please remember to click on the right side of the blog to subscribe follow along)

WHAT'S THAT SMELL?

You've heard it said that every home has a unique smell. Not necessarily bad or good, just different. It makes a statement of all things there. The people, the food, the laundry soap, candles and air-fresheners.

Not a new realization for me but I chuckled when I heard it again, my mind immediately imagining what my home smells like to others. Depending on the day you come through our doors the aroma could change. A dirty diaper from the one-year old I babysit, a dog needing a bath, a bag of popcorn left too long in the microwave or a pile of well used shoes could be your first aromatic experience within our four walls. But not all smells here are bad... I love candles and oil burners and when I cook it usually smells good.

It's probably safe to assume that for most of us women, smell is a big deal. We like our men to smell good and our homes to smell clean. We do our best to teach our children personal hygiene and if you are like me, think nothing of directing a teenage boy to a shower when needed.

Millions of dollars are spent on marketing towards our bent. Out of curiosity I checked the names on some of what I currently have laying around. Coastal woods, Sun splashed, Hawaiian tropics, Fireside and Tropical Escape. If only the smell itself could take us there.

But what if we looked at smell differently? 2 Corinthians 2:14-15 says, “But thanks be to God! For through what Christ has done, He has triumphed over us so that now wherever we go He uses us to tell others about the Lord and to spread the Gospel like a sweet perfume. As far as God is concerned there is a sweet, wholesome fragrance in our lives. It is the fragrance of Christ within us, an aroma to both the saved and the unsaved all around us”.

Can you imagine a new line of fragrances for the home that truly creates the atmosphere stated on the jar?

Love and Acceptance

Faith in the unknown

Humility

Forgiveness

Esteeming others better than myself

Flexibility

Boldness in Truth

Joy

Encouragement

Gratitude

Contentment

Patience

Here is the best part.... “because of what Christ has done, and His triumph over us”, the fragrance is already in us. It is because of what HE has done in us that we should smell good. Smells are unavoidable...you don't see them coming, but you know when they are there. You've been around people like that....good and bad. Some people just ooze the Presence of Jesus, others may look the same on the outside but the stench in unavoidable.

We live in the country, in an old home built in 1890. No matter how well we think we have things sealed up an occasional mouse will find its way in through the old basement. It will consume some of the poison we have hidden around and make its final resting place somewhere inside a wall that is impossible to get to. We know its there because we smell it, but will never be able to find it. No amount of air-fresheners, Lysol spray or candles will take it away. In fact, I have learned that trying to cover it with a good smell only makes a more confusing stench.

What candle do you need to light in your home today? Or maybe more importantly ...what stench needs to be dug out? Does your home smell of fear, criticism and arrogance? If you're like me, some rooms smell ok, but in others, the door is best kept shut. Does the work of Christ in us refresh and attract like a wholesome fragrance or do our mixed messages confuse like cheap perfume imitations?

What candle will you commit to lighting in your home today?

My tribute to courageous birth moms everywhere...

Her name means “joy” in Amharic. Not the word I would first use to describe our meeting, just hours after landing in Ethiopia for the second time...this trip to bring our children home.

We had been given the option of meeting birth mom by our agency. It was our choice, but strongly encouraged. It would require extra time and expense, and we were warned that it could be awkward, at best. Both families discussed the pros and cons and decided that, for the sake of the children, we would plan to meet.

We had barely checked into our hotel rooms when a call from the lobby informed us, in broken English, that mom was there and would be waiting for us outside. No warning, no plan...just “she's here...please come downstairs to meet her”.

As I have said so many times in the retelling of our adoption story, NOTHING could have prepared me. PANIC! How exactly is this supposed to be done? Do you hug the woman who is giving you her children? Do you simply shake her hand? Does she hate me? Will she forever remember me with sadness? Will I always be a reminder to her of what she could not be? Will we adequately be able to convey to her that we will love her babies...that they will be completely ours, just like our bio kids...but forever hers as well? That we will always speak of her with honor...that we will do our best to keep their memories of her alive.

We gathered our courage and made our way downstairs...T and Jean had already been introduced to her by the man in charge of our agency's adoptions. My eyes met hers and I lost it...shake her hand? Hardly! We embraced, my six foot frame and hers, probably under five. We sobbed as we held each other...unable to communicate, yet still able to say so very much. She was so strong, so brave, so selfless.

She had carried these twins that are now mine....she had birthed them, named them, nursed them, loved them and kept them alive in such extreme poverty. And now, out of selfless love that I will never claim to fully understand...she was giving them to us. She was giving them hope...she was giving them a future...she was giving them life.

We sat, the five of us...an African birth mother, two American born adoptive parents, one born in Laos, and myself, born and raised in South America....brought from all around the world with one united purpose...the love of four children. We asked her, through the interpreter, what her dreams were for each of her kids., and asked her to describe each of their personalities. We cried together, we laughed together. Each family gave her a photo album to keep...it showed our families here at home, our houses, the kids bedrooms and where they would sleep. We told her about each of you...our families, friends, and community whose generosity had helped make this possible.

It was time to go..just typing those words makes the tears flow again. The interpreter/driver said it was time to take her back so we needed to say our goodbyes. It wasn't enough time, there was not enough said...but it was time. Just before leaving, she softly asked the agency director if she could give us each a gift, as if she hadn’t already given her all. She slowly unfolded a handkerchief and pulled out several tattered pictures that she had of the kids when they were younger, taken with their birth father while he was still living. She explained that she wanted the kids to have something to remember him with too.

I say often that adoption is beautiful, and it is. I say often that adoption requires sacrifice, and it does.

To all birth moms out there who have made the selfless choice to give their child up for adoption. Whether you ever meet your child's adoptive mother or not... may it be a comfort for you to know that the adoptive mother will always carry part of your grief. We carry it tenderly, just as we do your child. We honor it, we honor you. You were braver, you gave more.

ANYONE ELSE?

There are certain days when I am sure that Satan has parked himself on my shoulder with his neatly printed list of lies he creatively whispers in an effort to destroy and cast doubt on any glimmer of faith in me. Today is just like that... His game has not changed... “When he lies, it is perfectly normal; for he is the father of liars.” John 8:44

He swaps Faith for Fear...Hope for Discouragement...Order for Confusion..Unity for Division. He reminds of failures, always...Victories, never.

More specifically, the dirty house speaks to my lack of good organization. The empty fridge and lack of meal plan as well . The schedule for a family our size looks neat on a calendar, only for a few seconds before something shifts and I am needed elsewhere. Discouragement of those closest to me is difficult to walk beside at times as I am prone to calibrate my truth filter through other people's current perspectives instead of God's.

But I am not without a weapon for battle...I have been given the tools. My armor is custom made...extra tall. It is made to cover where I am weakest, strongest where I am wounded and impenetrable if I chose it.

My word for today is IMMANUEL... “God with us”! I spent time this morning focusing on different attributes of God... and this is the sign I have nailed at the entrance of my heart today.

Jehovah...His authority. Exodus 3:13-15

Jehovah-jireh...He will provide. He did yesterday and He will tomorrow. Gen 22:9-14

Jehovah-shalom.... the God of peace. Judges 6:16-24

God is Just..He has seen all and is not fooled. He is our judge. Psalm 75:1-7

God is Eternal...He is already in the tomorrow.

Jehovah-nissi...”God our banner”. We can go from triumph to triumph saying, “Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” I Cor 15:57

He is Faithful.

He is our Intercessor.

And so...it's back to the laundry, back to the planning, back to the cleaning, back to the loving, back to encouraging...Emmanuel is all these things, and incomprehensibly more...And today, He is with me! Anyone else needing truth today?

Adoption Story...Part 3

 Our precious Meron loves books and stories. She loves anything read to her but her favorite story is when we tell her “Ethiopia” story. I start way back at the beginning and no matter how many times I tell it, her eyes sparkle at the same spots every time.

We talk about how we prayed for a really long time that God would find just the right children for our family. How we knew already that we would love them even though we didn't know who they were. She almost bubbles out of her skin as we recount the first time we opened the file with her picture. How Mommy cried and cried and we couldn't stop saying how beautiful she was. She reminds me about their name tags pinned to the front of their shirts and how she did not have any hair.

(Our referral pictures...It was love at first sight...They were ours and they were CHOSEN!)

But we couldn't go see them right away...we had to wait until we finally got the call with the go ahead to buy our tickets to Ethiopia....

Our adoption would require two separate trips...the first to meet the children and finalize their adoptions in the Ethiopian Court and the second to be processed through the US Embassy and bring the children home.

When we arrived at the orphanage for the first time most of the kids were napping. We were told that we would have several one hour visits with the kids during the days that we were there. We would also spend time sightseeing and learning more about the Ethiopian country and culture. We had packed crayons, snacks and bubbles for all the children as we prepared to go spent time with two little ones that we had only ever seen in pictures.

NO AMOUNT of preparation, reading adoption blogs, or talking to other adoptive parents could have ever fully prepared me for the moment we first laid eyes on them. Shawn & I and T & Jean were first escorted into the room where the younger children slept... we were directed towards a little yellow bunk bed where the two youngest boys slept. They were snuggled together under a blanket, fast asleep as we entered the room. Jean and I walked together towards the boys and knelt beside each other at the edge of the bed. Tears poured from our eyes as we stared into the faces of two of the most precious little treasures...blessings from above...trusted into our care from a heavenly Father who gives only good and perfect gifts. I can only imagine what went through those babies minds as they were awakened by the nanny and looked up into the faces of two blubbering white women. The boys immediately let us pick them up and the smothering from Mommies and Daddies began.

Meron and her oldest brother, Kaleb, were brought to us soon after meeting the younger two boys. Meron grins now when we talk about how terrified she was to be near us initially, but she was notgrinning then. It was obvious right off the bat that any preconceived ideas I may have had about a prefect first meeting would need to be filed in the “guess God didn't mean for it to be like that” folder. She was absolutely terrified of us and would keep her distance as much as possible. We could not hold her or touch her and only a couple times in that first trip did she interact at all with us while blowing bubbles or playing. Her little world was totally turned upside down. The loss these children had already experienced in their short little lives is unfathomable. Adoption does not happen without grief...it is not all easy...it requires sacrifice and loss on many levels.

But it is a beautiful thing. I often tell people that adoption is for the orphan, and I believe it. But just as importantly, adoption is for the benefit of the church. Deuteronomy 14:29 says “ He blesses those who provide for the orphan”...the orphan is blessed by a family, but the family is blessed to experience just a glimpse of Christ's love for us.

Did I say that nothing could have fully prepared me for this experience? Nothing could have prepared me for the love and emotion that overflowed in me as I held the stinkiest, snottiest little boy ever! The one wearing pink crocs and girl pajamas, with a sores on his body and signs of malnourishment undeniable...who from the first moment has forever captured his momma's heart.

Nothing could have prepared me for the unconditional love we have felt for our princess, who made it clear from the beginning that she did not need this loving. Who has, since coming home, opened up and learned to express her fears and losses in beautiful detail...giving us glimpses into our children's history and story.

Nothing could have prepared me for the fulfillment I would sense in seeing my husband and biological kids accept these two into our family without reservation. They don't look like us, don't talk like us, but they couldn't be any more us.

Are they blessed to have us? Maybe... Are we blessed to have them? Absolutely!