And then the road bends

February 11, 2014 by Kelli

Two days before “K” left, I found myself feeling sick. My stomach hurt, my head hurt, and I just didn’t feel right. I quickly chalked it up to the stress of putting her back on a plane, and the insanity of a month-long adventure that left me feeling run down and overwhelmed.

Just to be sure, though, I bought a pregnancy test to see if there was anything…bigger going on.

Negative.

I tossed the stick in the garbage can and moved on, perfectly content with the knowledge that I was likely a little over-stressed. But there was this nagging thought in the back of my mind that kept rolling around, pushing it’s way out at night when the room got dark and the world quieted.

What if the test was wrong?

For years now (and by years, I mean yeeeaaarrrrssss) I’ve felt completely certain that our family was incomplete. The feeling was so strong that some days I would pull out of the driveway and look frantically in the back seat to see who I’d left behind. I’d look at photographs and feel so certain that someone was missing from them.

I knew the day I brought Landon home from the hospital that he would not be my last child. I just knew it. I was certain at the time, however, that I would not give birth to another child. So certain that I gave away all the baby stuff I owned except for the infant carrier and the crib because sentimentality wouldn’t give me permission to let go.

I was wrong.

It’s no secret that my heart lies firmly with adoption, and my first choice would have been to further expand out family in that way. But for reasons I don’t fully understand, God had a different plan.

And don’t think for a single second that I haven’t mulled over the irony of the fact that we conceived a child while hosting a Ukrainian teenager in our home. I’m fairly certain God chuckled to Himself as He knit that one into the tapestry.

I digress…

After we put “K” on her plane, the feeling that something was up intensified. It was a combination of feeling queasy and exhausted, so I decided to check just one more time for peace of mind. Lee went to church that Sunday morning without me, and I ran to the store, picked up the cheapest test I could find, and came home. After I took the test, I started cleaning, and…well, I forgot about it.

I was so certain it would be negative again.

I was wrong. (I mentioned that already, right?)

That was nearly a month ago, and in these last few weeks Lee and I have slowly adjusted to this new development. It’s not that I didn’t want this, because there was a part of me that always liked the idea of having just one more.

There was another part of me, though, that didn’t really want to start from square one. And there is was a HUGE part of me that did not want to go through another pregnancy. Some women love pregnancy – I am not one of them.

So yes, the part of me that liked the idea of having a baby is excited. The part of me that longs to adopt is disappointed. These are conflicting emotions that will need to be worked through. I don’t doubt God’s plan for our family one bit.

I also don’t think that He’s done leading us down the path of orphan care. I don’t know what form that will take now, but I know this:

I am open to anything.

When we started our adoption journey, we did so on a very safe path. We wanted a child as young as possible, with as few issues as possible. It was what we felt we could handle. Now?

I wouldn’t say no to anything anymore. This is a freeing place to be, honestly. I am so open to whatever path the Lord leads us down, whether that be raising awareness, working with a ministry, taking trips to serve children in need, hosting orphans, fostering, adopting older or younger or special needs. Nothing scares me.

I feel free.

I also feel pregnant. For the time being, this is our path. We will continue to raise the children that the Lord has blessed us with joyfully and gratefully, and with all the wisdom that He chooses to reign down on us. And who knows? Maybe I’ll have the privilege of being an adoptive grandmother someday. Wouldn’t that be grand…

So that’s the story of where we are now. Life is full of surprises, isn’t it?!

(Come back tomorrow and I’ll share a bit of how our kids reacted to the news. I will also share my observations on pregnancy after having a loooooong break in between babies. Did you know at 35 I am considered of “mature maternal age?” HUMPH…)

Filed Under: Adoption, faith, Family, Kids, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: here we go again, Life, Motherhood, surprise pregnancy, We're having a baby

One Size Doesn’t Fit All

January 21, 2014 by Kelli

Blogging is a funny thing in that it gives everyone the chance to stand up tall on their soap boxes and boldly declare I AM RIGHT ABOUT THIS AND ALL THE THINGS!

I say this with my tongue planted firmly in my cheek because, Hi! I’m a blogger.

That said, even I find myself weary of all the chatter online sometimes, but I find that the chatter only frustrates me when it pertains to subjects for which I feel a significant amount of passion.

Orphan care – For me, that’s a big one, and more and more I’m seeing posts that frustrate me.

Posts that take unnecessary digs at adoption, at Christians who work to make orphanages more comfortable, crop up now and again, and I find myself terribly annoyed at this idea that the “Christian Orphan Care Movement” is actually doing more harm than good for children in the world.

This attitude incites a sense of shame and guilt for those people who really just want to help. To be clear, it’s not the topic that I disagree with, it’s the attitude that families who want to adopt, or to help bless children in orphanages, are contributing to a world-wide problem that leaves me with a sour taste.

Here’s the thing – there is no one size fits all solution to the orphan crisis. In a perfect world, yes – all children would grow up inside their own families, their own countries, their own cultures. Absolutely, I believe that that is the ideal.

However…

This world is not perfect, and the solution to children growing up in institutionalized care is convoluted. It will look different for every child, for every family, and for every country.

Photo by Keely Scott

There are children all over the world who have been orphaned for a thousand different reasons. Some are orphaned by drugs and alcohol, some are simply abandoned. Some are orphaned by tragedy, others are orphaned because their physical needs are too great a burden. Some are orphaned because their culture and government dictates life in such a way that parents have little choice.

The reasons for a child to be left in an orphanage are far too great, and they each require different solutions. While I do not want to assume that adoption is right for every child in every orphanage, I do want to say to parents who are hoping to adopt, in the process to adopt, dream of adopting – you’re doing a good thing! You’re offering a child hope for a future outside the confines of the orphanage. Don’t ever feel guilty for that – ever.

To those who are working to restore children to families who simply couldn’t afford to raise their children – you’re doing a good thing! Thank you for working so hard to reunite children with their families. Don’t ever feel guilty for that – ever.

To those who are working to make orphanages more comfortable and livable – you’re doing a good thing! Providing a stable shelter, offering clothing and supplies, funding renovations and better equipment – these are all necessary to making sure that children inside orphanages are receiving the best they possibly can given their current circumstance. Don’t ever feel guilty for that – ever.

To those who host orphans for a brief period of time then send them back to their homes – you’re doing a good thing! Many of you will move forward to bring those children into your homes permanently. Others will love those children from afar, and give them the hope of knowing that they are loved and valued inside this world. Don’t ever feel guilty for that – ever.

I do believe that children orphaned by poverty are some of the most devastating, because I feel the heartache of a family who simply cannot afford to raise a child. This is a travesty, and in areas where this most often happens, let’s keep working together to help these families stay together.

Next week, a team of bloggers will head to Uganda to talk about the work of Compassion International. This is the 5-year anniversary of Compassion Bloggers, and it will undoubtably produce amazing words and images that will allow us to see what orphan prevention looks like. Because of their hard work, Compassion International is keeping families together, keeping children out of orphanages, and keeping communities in tact. I’ve seen them do this, and I’ve never been the same for it.

There are so many solutions to the orphan crisis that people are working on around the world, and I’m grateful for each one of them. We need to keep working together to defend the orphan, in whatever capacity that may look like. This isn’t a battle of Conservative Christian verses Liberal Christian and who has the best solution. Rather than continuing the argument about who is doing the best/worst job in defending the orphan, let’s work together to be part of the solution to orphan care (and prevention).

Filed Under: Adoption, Compassion International, faith, Family, Grace, Kids, Ministry Tagged With: Adoption, Compassion Bloggers Uganda, compassion international, faith, orphan care, orphan prevention

Imagine

January 8, 2014 by Kelli

Imagine waking up each morning surrounded by people, but totally alone.

Imagine walking to and from school and home each day knowing that you could disappear and no one would really care.

Imagine going to bed at night without saying goodnight to anyone.

Imagine the doors being opened for you, and walking out into the world without any support system, without anyone to advocate for you, anyone to fight on your behalf.

Imagine being thrust into adulthood without the tools necessary to survive.

Imagine a world full of light into which you cannot walk.

Imagine being trapped in darkness with no real hope.

Imagine.

The plight of those without family is more real to me than it’s ever been before. I’ve known the statistics for a long time – Girls who ago out of an orphanage are 60% more likely to end up in prostitution. Boys who age out are 70% more likely to end up in prison. The suicide rate for children who have exited an orphanage without a support system are sky-high.

I knew these things, but I’d never touched them.

This is a fight that we cannot ignore. I’m a huge proponent of adoption. I absolutely believe that adoption is a necessary and important tool in orphan care. I’m also, however, passionate about supporting orphans within their own countries. We must help them from both ends of this spectrum.

I do believe that it’s best for children to be raised in their own countries, amidst their own cultures. I also believe that’s not always possible, and for those who are called, I fully support you in your quest for adoption.

There has to be more, though. We must advocate for the fatherless with zeal, and we cannot give up on this quest because too much is at stake. I heard it said not long ago that growing up without a family is toxic to a child’s soul. There is, perhaps, no greater loneliness than that of knowing that no one cares.

This isn’t a post that’s meant to incite guilt. The truth is, I don’t really know what the next step is for our family. When we put “K” on the plane next week, what happens next?

I don’t know. But I’m asking and I’m seeking, because now I know and once you know the truth, action is required.

The orphan crisis is big – it’s so big. Bigger than any one person, or any one organization. But results are tangible, and there is hope to be found. (<—Click this to tweet) Hope may be slow, but it’s alive and it’s real and it’s the only thing that can shatter the darkness.

All I ask today is that you imagine the feeling of being totally and completely alone. Imagine, just for a second.

What can you do?

What can I do?

What difference could we make in this world if we weren’t afraid to try?

Filed Under: Adoption, faith, Family, Life, Ministry Tagged With: Adoption, Courage, faith, Ministry, orphan care, orphan crisis

One Year

December 28, 2013 by Kelli

One year ago, I sat on the edge of the bathtub and I sobbed.One year ago, my heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces, and it has taken a full twelve months to reassemble those pieces in some order.

Twelve months is a long time. Healing takes a long time.

With the space of 365 days between then and now, I’ve had time to gain a little perspective. There are some who have said that it wasn’t meant to be for our family. God clearly didn’t have it in His plan for us to bring home a child from a Russian orphanage. While there may be some theological truth to that statement, I can say with no uncertainty that that is not a comforting attitude to hold, and the thought has brought little peace to my heart.

The fact is, God led us down the path of adoption, and He led us right into the fire of a disrupted adoption. This was so that we could be refined, so that we could know Him a little more.

It was so that we would step forward out of the fire with courage and not abandon the fight for children living without families.

One year later, our situation is different. We’re in for more heartache in two weeks when we put K on a plane back home. Our kids will be broken hearted again to say goodbye – our precious children who still hope for another sibling. God is refining them as well – teaching them to give sacrificially, even when it hurts.

While this year has provided a blanket of healing for our family, there are still many families living with the deep pain of separation. There are parents who actually held their children in their arms, who promised they would return to get them, and who cannot go back. There are children in institutions who could have had homes.

These are the people who need your continued prayer. These are the people who still sit in the unknown. Pray for the children who are left behind. Pray for the families in America who want to adopt them but cannot. Pray for the families in Russia who would like to adopt, but don’t have the resources or the help necessary to take in institutionalized children.

No child should grow up without a family. I have evidence of that sleeping in a room down the hall.

Watch this video, and keep praying everyone. A New Year awaits.

A lot can happen in a year…

Filed Under: Adoption, faith, Family, Grace, Holidays, Life, New Years, politics Tagged With: adoption ban, children, faith, Family, Grace, orphan care, Russian adoptions

Why Orphan Hosting?

December 17, 2013 by Kelli

As we prepare to welcome “K” into our family this holiday season, I thought I’d answer a few questions that have been asked of us. When we signed up for this orphan hosting program, I wasn’t 100% convinced I wanted to go through with it.

But the more Lee and I talked about this, and researched the program, the more excited we became to be a part of this very unique ministry. We committed to host “K” a day before the deadline, and within a couple of weeks had made all the necessary payments, filled out the paperwork, and we were officially welcomed as host parents.

The purpose of bringing these children into our homes for a few weeks is multifaceted. First and foremost, as host families our desire is to show children that they are loved. We want them to know that they hold value in this world, particularly these young kids who are living full time in state run orphanages. Hosting is a chance for a child to experience a different culture, which widens their view of the world, and opens their minds to possibilities outside the walls of their home.

Children who age out of the orphanages at young ages are some of the most vulnerable in the world. Girls are more likely to wind up in sex trafficking and prostitution when they “graduate,” and boys are more likely to end up in prison. If we can give them the knowledge and understanding that their lives, their bodies, their minds, are valuable, perhaps we can prevent some of these casualties of poverty.

Orphan hosting also raises adoption awareness. When people are able to see and touch a child without a family, they are more drawn to the possibility of adoption. The doubts are less obvious in the presence of a child looking for love. New Horizons for Children, the hosting agency we are working with, is not an adoption agency and these children are not brought to the States to “find a family.” But many families are so impacted by the experience that they’re moved to adopt.

Orphan hosting widens our comfortable, Western view of the world just as much as it does the children who come to visit. Remember, hope isn’t only slow for those trapped in hard situations. It’s slow for us who are trapped in wealth and comfort, too.

Yesterday, Shaun posted a great article about the difference that urgency makes in our desire and ability to act on our passions. My sense of urgency lies in orphan care. I thought that this urgency, born out of a passion, would have a different result, and maybe it still will…someday. But right now, here in the interim, Lee and I know we cannot sit idle.

Urgency combined with passion must manifest in some sort of action. We’ve chosen to follow the path of orphan hosting for this season of waiting. Perhaps it will open a new door, or send us down a different path. Maybe “K” will leave and we will remain in the same position of waiting and wondering what’s next. I’m not quite sure.

All I know is we can’t ignore this sense of urgency that we feel.

For the next month we will pour into this young woman with all the love we possess. We have no preconceived notions on how this experience will be for our family, but both Lee and I have a true peace and mounting excitement for how our Christmas will be affected.

Sloan has sweetly given up his room for the month, and also let me make it all girly for “K.”

Pray for us these next four weeks as we walk this new path?

Thanks, everyone! We will keep you posted and will share pictures when we can!

Filed Under: Adoption, faith, Family, Life, Ministry Tagged With: faith, New Horizons for Children, orphan hosting

The single, blinking strand

December 4, 2013 by Kelli

On Christmas night last year, after all the gifts had been unwrapped, the meals consumed, the bustle of the day quieted, and my household fell asleep, I sat in front of our lit tree. With all the other lights turned off, I curled up and stared at the Christmas lights. Some of them twinkle, and some do not. This annoys the part of my brain that longs for order, and yet somehow it fits our family.

I watched the half blinking tree, and my heart twisted as I mulled over the possibility that our adoption would be terminated. At that point, talks of a ban on Americans adopting were only murmurs. Nobody really thought it would happen – we all thought Putin was posturing, just trying to save face. I stared at the tree, and I wondered if it was all going to fall apart. I wondered if this year, Christmas 2013, we would indeed have a new daughter home, dancing around the tree, admiring the single strand of blinking lights and trying to figure out why none of the other lights blinked.

I wrote about that night here – I wrote about how the Lord whispered “Wait,” and how my heart fluctuated from grief to peace, and back and forth like that single strand of blinking lights.

Three days later, all my fears were realized when Vladimir Putin made the ban official.

You know the rest of the story.

Two months ago, I woke up early one morning. I felt restless and sad, a feeling that’s been too familiar this past year. With Christmas coming up, I found myself once again wishing that things were different. I thought we’d have her home at this point. I thought we’d be a family of six before the end of the year.

I spent a bit of time sitting my favorite chair, sipping my coffee and praying that I wouldn’t miss all the blessings of the upcoming Christmas season. I prayed for a release from my heartache. I prayed for a contentment in where my family is right now.

An hour later, I opened my computer, and noticed an email from an organization called New Horizons for Children. This is an orphan hosting organization – they bring children to the United States for 4-5 weeks as an opportunity to experience a new culture, to experience family, to improve their English, and to have a potentially once in a lifetime experience outside the walls of their orphanage.

I showed Lee the email, and together we prayed over this opportunity. We looked through the children available for sponsorship, and one young woman stood out to both of us. Within days we had filled out the application and made the first payment to officially welcome her to our family for the Christmas season.

God is funny, isn’t He? Last year I thought for sure that we would be bringing home a toddler daughter to raise for a lifetime. Instead we will be welcoming a teenage “daughter” to love for only a short time. She turns 18 a week after she returns home, and she will officially age out of the orphanage. Our hope is to love her well, and love her fully, for the month that we have her so that when she’s on her own, she will have some reference and understanding of her worth in this world.

We want her to see Christ in our family.

We want her to see what a godly, stable relationship between husband and wife looks like.

We want her to know that she is not defined by her background.

We want her to know that we will always love her, even if we only get her for four short weeks.

Will you pray for our family as we welcome this precious girl who has spent most of her life in an orphanage? Pray that this experience will be a positive one, for both her and our family. Pray that she will see and know love. Pray that we can bond quickly, and that when she leaves, she returns home with a new sense of confidence as a daughter of God.

This isn’t what we planned when we set out to adopt, but I am so grateful for God’s goodness in giving us this opportunity – for His sweetness in knowing that this Christmas was going to be a hard one. I’m thankful that we’ll have a month to pour ourselves out fully together as a family.

The sign reads “We’re waiting for you.”

When God whispered “Wait” last year, I had no idea this is what we were waiting for. It may not be as I envisioned, but like the single blinking strand on our Christmas tree, it somehow seems right.

Thanks for joining with us in prayer, friends. It blesses us more than you know.

Filed Under: Adoption, faith, Family, Grace, Life Tagged With: Adoption, Christmas, faith, Grace, orphan hosting, prayer, Russian adoption ban

Drive Mercy

September 13, 2013 by Kelli

It’s hard to put into words the admiration I hold for Kristen and her husband. It would make her uncomfortable to know I admire her. Though I’ve never met her personally, I know from a few shared emails and from years of reading her blog that she doesn’t want any credit for the amazing work that’s being done through Mercy House Kenya.

My admiration for her and her husband does not come from the results of their work, but rather from the evidence of their obedience. They said “yes” to a really, really hard thing. They chose to follow the path of, as she calls it, a “God-sized dream.”

There’s a true beauty in obedience. When we’re willing to sacrifice everything, to lay it all down and follow the hard path, amazing things can happen. We’re all on the path to obedience in some way or another, whether we know it or not. It could be choosing to raise our children a specific way, following a dream, or simply living in a way that inspires others.

This week, Lee and I took a final step of obedience. Actually, this step was more mine than his, but he’s walked each step of the way with me. This week we officially acknowledged, out loud, our decision to stop pursuing adoption for the time being. In making this decision, we felt like the best way to lay this dream and longing down on the altar of obedience was to return the funds that were donated to us for the purpose of adoption.

It no longer felt right to keep those funds for something that may never happen.

I hate writing these things. I hate that I’ve had to lay this desire down. I wish this wasn’t my lot of obedience. And yet…

There’s something beautiful about sacrificing for obedience. There’s a new hope that’s birthed from fully dying to self and opening your hands wide – to saying “Yes” when it hurts.

Kristen and Terrell said yes to what God had planned. They felt a calling that, at first, seemed ambiguous and cloudy. Help women and babies in Africa. Where do you even go with a desire like that? If you’ve read along with Kristen’s journey and the start of Mercy House Kenya, then you know that what started as an ambiguous idea has turned into a huge dream that is currently changing the lives of 12 young mothers and their babies.

Mercy House Kenya is more than a maternity home – it is a place where mothers and children are kept safe, and are kept together. Mercy House is orphan prevention, and in this time of uncertainty in our own family, Lee and I feel passionate about remaining at work in the process of orphan care. If we can’t bring one to our home, then by God I want to make sure children remain in their own homes.

Right now, you and I have an amazing opportunity to do something big – something huge. And we can do it from right here, in our own homes. We can go to Kenya today without leaving the comfort of our own homes.

Mercy House and (in)courage have teamed up with a group of bloggers to kick start a four month campaign to help provide essentials to the safety and sustainability of Mercy House and it’s 12 moms and 12 babies.

There are five projects that we would love to see completed just in time for Christmas and Phase 1? The phase you and I are jumping in on? It’s perfect.

We are going to be a part of raising $8,750 that will help purchase a new van for Mercy House.

What do you think? Can we bring a little Minivans Are Hot to Kenya?!

I THINK WE CAN!

As of yesterday, we are almost half way to this goal. Today, by the end of the day, I’d love to see the funds fully raised for the new Mercy House van. This is something worth rallying for, my friends! This is a powerful testimony of the amazing things we can do together when we’re willing to say “yes!”

Will you join us as we help buy a van for these 12 mothers and their young ones? Will you help us change lives on the other side of the world? Will you be a part of the miracle? Here’s how it works:

Click this link to head over to the Pure Charity page, which will allow you to give directly to the purchase of a new Mercy House van.

You can see the other projects that are coming up in the next few weeks by clicking here. By Christmas, we’d love to see $74,000 raised to complete all five necessary projects. This is huge. This is the power of social media at it’s very finest. This is the way to bless and be blessed.

So who’s in? Who wants to be a part of this one really big thing?

Would you do me a favor and share what’s going on here? Would you tell your friends? Let’s work together to see this first phase of (in)Mercy completed by the end of the day.

May your “yes” and my own be blessed today. Happy Friday, friends.

Filed Under: Adoption, Blogging, faith, Family, Grace, Kids, Ministry Tagged With: (in)courage, (in)Mercy, Mercy House Kenya, Obedience, orphan prevention, Pure Charity, Saying Yes to God

When the land before you seems dry

August 22, 2013 by Kelli

This was a summer of healing for me.

As we close it out, I find myself somewhat reminiscent of the last few months. They’ve been good. Really, really good.

For reasons I can’t explain because I don’t understand, God has led me to a place in life that feels very dry. It goes beyond the terminated adoption. There are other hopes – other desires – that have been removed. The big prayers that I’ve uttered for over a decade all fell apart at the same time. Literally on the same day – January 11.

I’ve built an altar on that day as I think it’s important to remember the place of destruction because I still have hope that dreams can be rebuilt. Perhaps they’ll look a little different. Maybe they won’t be what I thought they’d be, but I don’t believe God will leave me in this wilderness forever.

Adding to what has felt like a very dry time has been the fact that for the first time since I was fifteen I have no contact with Russian speakers. No day to day contact, that is. When I first went to the former Soviet Union as a fifteen year old, I had no idea what was in store for me, but I realized almost immediately that I was supposed to be there.

Since that time, no matter where I’ve gone or lived or traveled, I have always been in contact with Russian speakers. Even when I went to Tanzania last year with Compassion International, I met a Russian girl in the airport and shared a lengthy conversation with her. This is what has always seemed to happen.

Everywhere we went, Lee and I would run into Russians and Ukrainians. From my time working at WOGA in Dallas, to our many years at the Russian-American school in St. Louis, I’ve always had the opportunity to listen to, and speak, the language that is so magical to me. Even after moving to Tampa, we met a sweet Russian woman and got to be quick friends with her and her family. We went to birthday parties and spent time on the ocean, and it seemed that, once again, I had tight community with the people I love so dearly.

Unfortunately, these friends had to move rather suddenly, and right around the time that the adoption fell apart, we lost contact completely. Since that time I have not run into a single Russian speaker. I haven’t even heard the language.

It’s so strange to me, really. Why did God give me such a love for this language, such a heart for adoption, such a longing to be a part of His story in a child’s life only to take it all away, all at the same time?

I have questioned God and doubted Him this year. I’ve been disappointed in Him, so very disappointed in the way this part of our story has played out. A few months ago I would have been scared to admit those things publicly. I would have tried to water down how extremely angry and sad and frustrated I was with this God in whom I’ve placed so much trust. What do such doubts and attitudes say of my faith?

You know what it says? It says I’m real. For the first time I couldn’t coast on a blind and unassuming faith. I needed to swim a little in the fire of doubt to see if my faith in this God I proclaim to love could withstand the heat. It did, but there were some dark days inside the refining fire. Days when I didn’t know if God really could be good, when I couldn’t see any beauty or grace in the current landscape of life.

Many days I could utter nothing more than the words “I don’t understand” while hot tears dripped off my chin.

But I don’t have to understand. This is where the healing has come into play this summer. I don’t have to understand, and I also don’t think this is the end of the story. I think these things have been removed for a time, not forever. I feel peace right now. Genuine peace. I’m still sad, and I still cry at the drop of the hat, but I’m not devastated.

God continues to be silent right now. He is not speaking in a tangible way that makes sense…yet. I’m still walking through the desert, but there is actually a lot of beauty to be seen in the desert, and I mean this both literally and figuratively. My friend Jenni spent several months in the desert earlier this year and the photos she took there are some of the most breathtaking I’ve ever seen. God created so much to see in the dry places.

In the same way, there’s been a lot of beauty in these last eight months, and there have been moments filled with the joyous beauty of laughter, an emotion created by God to empty the dark corners of the soul for a brief moment and fill them with light.

If I sit still long enough to catalog it, I’m almost shocked at how much grace I’ve been given in what has been such a difficult year. This desert isn’t completely void of good things. I can now honestly say that I’m thankful for these dry months. They aren’t over, but I don’t feel like I’m lost anymore.

If you’ve found yourself in a desert place where life feels overwhelming and hard, can I encourage you to hang on tight? The road may be long and you’re undoubtably tired and weary, but don’t give up. It’s okay to be sad, and it’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to ask why and it’s okay to not understand. This life is a mysterious path of winding roads and bramble paths, but in the midst of it all, if we’re willing to look for it, there’s so much grace to be seen and felt and pulled in tight. Whenever you can, look for the beauty.

And if at all possible, try to laugh out loud. Laughter reveals a whole lot of pretty things in this world.

Blessings to you all today.

Filed Under: Adoption, faith, Family, Grace, Life

Saying Yes to the Good and Bad

May 28, 2013 by Kelli

I’m learning a lot right now about what it means to say yes. By nature, my first response is not generally yes. I’m more of a “maybe, let me think about it, I’ll get back to you,” kind of a girl. Saying yes is scary because saying yes usually comes with some sort of responsibility attached.

(Unless, of course, someone asks me if I’d like some Nutella, at which point saying yes is non-negotiable and always rewarding…)

Last year Lee and I said “Yes” together to adoption and as most of you know – that didn’t work out so well. But we said yes. We agreed because saying “No” didn’t feel right. If you talk to Lee and I individually about our motives to adopt, you’ll hear two different stories. Mine is the longer one.

Naturally.

Lee’s story is quite simple and I love the purity of his answer. When he was asked last summer why he decided to step forward with the adoption he said, “Because God didn’t give me the freedom to say no.”

That was it.

He couldn’t say no because he didn’t feel like GOD (not me – I had given him full permission to say no) had given him the freedom to say no. So he said yes.

I will confess that I still struggle with some bitterness and disappointment that God didn’t lay “No” on Lee’s heart. I still don’t understand why He brought us to this point in the adoption process. But obviously there were lessons of faith and trust and dependence that I needed to learn and so even though I’m disappointed in the circumstance and sometimes even in God Himself, I can still say He is good.

I still have faith, even though my faith feels much shakier than it did before. It’s being tested and burned and molded – it will come out stronger, but I have to wrestle through this.

As we prayed and sought and searched and looked at what our next step should be after the adoption was terminated, Lee felt a deep desire to go as a family on a mission trip this summer, and this time it was my turn to be reluctant. I didn’t want to go because I didn’t want to spend the money. I knew that money could be spent on transferring our adoption to a different country. But Lee felt really strongly that we should take the kids on a mission trip.

And I didn’t have the freedom to say no, so yes was the only other option.

We began to search different missions opportunities that we could take with the kids. We needed to find something that fit into Lee’s hectic work schedule and after a lot of thought, we decided to join forces with Servant’s Heart Ministry on a mission trip to the Dominican Republic.

One month from today we will board a plane with our children to meet and serve the children of the Dominican Republic. I will confess that my heart is still unsure, not of the trip – I have no doubt the trip will be amazing. But I am still unsure about where we stand with the adoption and I still struggle daily with this idea of saying yes to God.

But what is faith if we don’t say yes to the things that don’t make sense – even those things that may not go as planned? And how will we ever teach our children how to serve those in desperate need if we don’t go and do? Even if it costs money? Even if it sets us back in the adoption?

Or maybe it’s a step forward…

God has been terribly silent through all this adoption stuff, but I have this sense of peace that as we continue to say yes to the things in front of us, He will slowly reveal His plan for our family. As I said earlier, saying yes is scary because the outcome is not always certain, but if there is one thing I have been able to cling to in these months of questioning and doubt it’s that God is good and His plan is perfect, even when I don’t understand it.

So we are saying yes to the things that are scary, the things that are good, the things that could go wrong or right. We’re saying yes because when presented with an opportunity to bless another person, is saying “No” really an option at all?

What about you? What have you said yes to lately?

(And as a PS to those who gave money toward our adoption – please know that we have those donations set aside and we will not touch them until we decide what we are going to do. Should we ultimately decide not to proceed with another adoption, those funds will be returned. I just wanted to offer that explanation in an effort to be fully transparent. We don’t yet feel that God has shut the door on adoption so we continue to save in anticipation of adopting. We are walking in faith making each decision with an enormous sense of trust.)

Filed Under: Adoption, Adoption, faith, Family, Lee, Life, Ministry, Travel Tagged With: faith, Family Mission Trips, Saying Yes, Servant's Heart

What is Obvious is This: I Stink at Waiting

May 1, 2013 by Kelli

My sweet, sweet online friends. I am not in a happy, happy, joy, joy mood these days. I’m lost in introspection and I am, once again, fighting a wave of emotion that follows this path of shattered dreams. I convince myself that it’s not worth this amount of emotional energy – that compared to the problems people are facing all over the world, mine is small and miniscule and hardly worth the river of tears I seem prone to spill.

And yet…

I’ve spent quite a bit of time talking to God over this one. With the statistics rolling through my brain of the millions of orphaned children worldwide that are breathing the toxic air of feeling unwanted, unloved, unneeded and unseen, I question why this road has been so hard for us.

I’ve tried to wrap my mind around this situation from a theological standpoint. I know God to be Omniscient and Omnipotent. The Past and the Future all belong to His Present Now. He is not swayed or affected by time, nor is he a magician who must consult the cracked glass of a crystal ball to understand what will come tomorrow.

So when we began this process, He already knew. He knew we would not finish what we started – at least not in the manner in which we started it. As a balm, I’ve tried to convince myself that this means we were never supposed to have a child from Russia.

I tell myself that God didn’t want us to bring a Russian orphan home, because if He did, we would have been able to do so.

That’s a really nice way to try and weasel my way out of this predicament of heartache, but I must confess I am not doing a very good job at convincing myself of its truth. Because in the back of my mind I wonder What if?

What if we were supposed to and the sin of this world prevented it?

Ah, but that negates God’s Omniscience.

This is the point that smoke trickles from my ears and I sigh heavily.

I still pray for her, even though perhaps she was never meant to be. Because the fact of the matter is quite simply this: There is a little girl in an orphanage in St. Petersburg who could have had a home. She could have had a father to pick her up and tell her that she was loved and wanted and beautiful. She could have had a mother to shower her with kisses from morning until night.

She could have had two big brothers to protect her and a sister to show her the ropes.

I am praying for this little girl and I pray that she still gets those things – her and all of the others like her. I pray that someday the little girl who could have had…will have. Praying this prayer makes it easier for me, in a way. It makes the situation less ambiguous and overwhelming.

Because if I try to pray for the 750,000 orphaned children in Russia I can hardly breathe. But her – the girl that could have had? I can manage to pray for her.

And yet, I still have hope and a sense of wonder at what God is doing here in us? I read this quote by Jen Hatmaker today and it made me gasp because THIS – this is how I feel:

“When you say YES to adoption, you are saying YES to enter the suffering of the orphan, and that suffering includes WAITING FOR YOU TO GET TO THEM. I promise you, their suffering is worse than yours. We say YES to the tears, YES to the longing, YES to the maddening process, YES to the money, YES to hope, YES to the screaming frustration of it all, YES to going the distance through every unforeseen discouragement and delay. Do not imagine that something outside of “your perfect plan” means you heard God wrong. There is NO perfect adoption. EVERY adoption has snags. We Americans invented the “show me a sign” or “this is a sign” or “this must mean God is closing a door” or “God must not be in this because it is hard,” but all that is garbage. You know what’s hard? Being an orphan. They need us to be champions and heroes for them, fighting like hell to get them home. So we will. We may cry and rage and scream and wail in the process, but get them home we will.”
—Jen Hatmaker

On Christmas day, when I sat alone in front of the tree, I had visions of a child dancing around it – a child whose face was not yet revealed to me. And I knew I needed to wait, but wait for what? I don’t know what I’m waiting for and I’m so tired of waiting. Were those visions merely projections of something that I just desperately want, or were they true visions of something to come?

I don’t know. I wish I could say for certain, but I just don’t know.

You know what is beautiful, though? God’s mercies in the waiting. On Monday, my newest nephew made his entrance into this world. (His Mom is Becke‘. You know Becke’, don’t you? You should know Becke’…)

Everyone, meet Asher:

Right?!

I mean…how beautiful is he and how much do you want to kiss those squishy baby cheeks? And you know what? This precious baby is a picture of grace. He was prayed for and waited for and there were bumps in the road, and heartaches to be worked through but God was faithful to deliver what the heart desired.

Some days, when I’m feeling particularly dark, the only thing I can cling to is the knowledge that God is not cruel. I know that He isn’t, and so I repeat it.

But other days I find that I’m able to go a step further and say, He is so good. I look at Asher and I can say without reservation He Is So Good.

I’m not good at the waiting, but I’m trying and I’m learning and I’m stumbling through it. That’s the best I can do right now and somehow…