God Is With Us

We got THE call again. You know - the big call for adoptive parents. The one that says you were picked to be a little boy or girl's forever parent. The first time we got the call, it went like this.

Our new son's name is Emmanuel. Emmanuel means God is with us. He is 22 months old and he is beautiful.

Here's where it began for him. About a year ago, last February, we were considering a legal-risk placement named Miracle. On the intial email we got about her, there was info about another child in her foster home named Emmanuel - which is unusual. Ultimately, we didn't get picked for Miracle. We moved on and continued submitting for and pursuing adoptions as they came up. We started feeling like maybe the next child we were going to adopt would be a teenager, so we started pursuing teens.
Flash forward to February of this year.
We had just submitted for a 14 year-old named Will and I got an email from my adoption caseworker about a child named Emmanuel which asked: "Is this the same Emmanuel who was with Miracle?" It was. They hadn't found him a home. On a whim, I told her to submit us, thinking nothing of it. We submit for adoptive placements as often as we change underwear. Seriously. We have NEVER been picked for one; even Isaiah was a foster placement.

Weeks went by and we heard from Will's caseworker. They wanted to move forward with us. The next step was a selection staffing which is a meeting where everyone discloses more info about the child and everyone has the opportunity to ask more questions. My caseworker had said to us: "If you move forward and end up getting Will, you will not be able to move forward with Emmanuel." We felt peaceful about that. We believe God brings the right kids, at the right time and for the right amount of time. We went into that Tuesday selection staffing thinking we were submitting for a fairly typical teenager who had been in fostercare. This turned out to not be the case as the meeting disclosed some shocking info. We were heartbroken about his story, but ultimately did not feel that he would be a good fit.
The very next day, we got a call that we were chosen to go to Emmanuel's selection staffing the following Tuesday. Tuesday came and we waited and prayed. I didn't even realize how much I wanted him until I was faced with the possibility of not getting him. On my way to get my foster daughter from school, on the side walk pushing Isaiah in a stroller, and holding the hand of my foster son - halfway between my house and the school - my caseworkers called me on speaker to tell me that Isaiah would have a brother. And that I would be a forever mom again. I cried right there on the sidewalk. Humbled and awed by the plan that God has for me and my family. Cried from thankfulness that God is with us, and He just gave us a daily reminder.

Adoption Day!

November 18th, 2011. God knew the day ages before any of us even existed. He knew that was the day we were going to adopt Isaiah Michael Clarke.

We left Matt's parents house at 6:00am to make the drive into Houston and my heart was beating fast and the tears came and went the whole drive. In just a few hours, Isaiah would have his name changed. He would no longer be a foster child. We got to the courthouse at 7:00am and had an hour to kill. We went and got breakfast tacos from a shack, 'cause what else are you going to do?

We met our family developer, Jessica, in the parking lot and made our way into the courthouse. There were all these families coming in. All these orphans being un-orphaned.

We signed papers. We waited. Isaiah ran up and down the hall crowded with caseworkers and proud families and kids in their Sunday best.

We worked hard to try to keep Isaiah entertained.
Shout out to my husband. He is the best. He is an amazing father. And a world class entertainer.
That boy loves his daddy...and the feeling is mutual.

We waited and waited. Our lawyer kept apologizing. For the wait. For the chaos. I told her I didn't care. I was adopting my son. I would've waited til whenever I had to. I had already waited 20 years. What was a few more hours?

When we finally were moved into the court room, Isaiah busied himself by...
brushing his hair,
climbing in the stroller,

and laying on the floor grunting.

Then it was our turn.

All the praying, the crying, the waiting, the trusting. We were here.


This moment right here. This moment is the one I have been dreaming about for at least twenty years. I never dreamed of the white dress, or the church, or the big wedding. I dreamt of me with my son on my hip in front of a judge. Making promises and claiming the ones that had been made to me.


Then it was over. The adoption petition had been granted by the judge, along with all the other petitions that our hearts had made to the Father for our son. Hallelujuah!




Then we went downstairs and ate cupcakes, took more pictures, and partied Harris-County-National-Adoption-Day style.

Through all this, I was suprisingly composed. Then on the way out of the courthouse I stopped off in the bathroom and when I sat down to use the bathroom, I started sobbing. It hit me like a ton of bricks. He was staying. I did not have to pack him up and stand in my front yard and wave goodbye. God promised and delivered. I thought if I had never known what it was like to say goodbye to a child, then maybe I wouldn't know just how sweet it is to not have to do that. In that moment, crying in a bathroom stall, I was thankful for every stinking piece of the whole puzzle and I wouldn't have taken an ounce of it back.

So there is the story. At least, my version of it. But I do want to take the time to honor the people who God used to bring our son home. Lisa Patterson, who loves orphans and works with God to place the lonely in families. Dale Smith, who runs our agency with humilty and obedience to the Father, and a deep love for the orphan. Kay Whyburn, who is crazy and just knew he belonged with us and broke countless rules to get him home. All his caseworkers: Sharon Love, Deedra Red, and even the one who almost dropped the ball who shall remained unamed. Amy Slaughter and Michelle Teal who helped seal the deal. Finally, Jessica Hall - our family developer, who is really more like a super-hard working, completely-invested auntie and friend. She puts up with my crazy antics and my shrill incessant phone calls with patience and love. You, my friend, are a light in the darkness of this system. A woman of God who loves Jesus and serves His people. We love you so much and cannot thank you enough for all you do!

Embarassment of Riches

I woke up at 3:45am here on the dawn of my 30th birthday with a deep feeling of nostalgia and a rush of thankfulness. I started thinking back on the things. Things I have had and the things I haven't had.The things that I have done and the things that I haven't done. You know reflecting on what,where, and who I thought I'd be by this point.We all kinda of have those things so I ran through my list. Married to my love, my best friend, my ride or die chick (or maybe I am his I can't ever remember) for almost 10 years.He is a great husband, father, friend, hand rubber, cook, dancer, djembe player, and all around stand up dude. We have fallen apart and be rebuilt at least a dozen times it seems like. But we are still here learning how to be Mr and Mrs and there is still big love and a lot of laughs and no one else I would rather do it with. I have gotten to go a lot of the places I have dreamed of. I had a six week dream trip right out of the chute of college, and have seen a lot of places since then. I have had lots of jobs that I loved and a few I didn't.I have effectively left a career that I loved to do something that I love more (and that is a hell of a lot harder). I have learned and learned and learned about love, loss, healing,humans, over coming, and the power of the spirit. I have had 7 kids!!! In two years! 7 kids! In two years! Are you kidding!? That is loony. And one stuck and forever and for that my heart burst daily. I have an amazing albeit dysfunctional family that have given me the kind of love that is foundational and carries you when things get shaky. Here is the kicker of it all...the One who gave me all of it loves me in an drastic, ridiculous, unending,soul swallowing, crushing, heart aching kind of way; and I am starting to believe it more daily. He walks with me and carries me, he goes before me and has my back. I am learning to hear and trust his voice more every day. And thirty years ago after something crazy like 37 hours of labor when my stubborn ass finally made my appearance He smiled and knew that thirty years later I would be weeping at my computer at 4:00 am overwhelmed by His love and the fact that my life is what they call an embarrassment of riches.

Isaiah Michael Clarke

Early this morning here I sit my iced coffee, my son in his high chair next to me concentrating hard on his cheerios listening to Waterdeep. I just filled out the paperwork for the adoption. The paperwork that in October or November will change his name from Infant/ Baby boy to Isaiah Michael Clarke. Which is just who God intended him to be.I know that as we sit here in the most ordinary of settings, that apart from the hand of God Isaiah wouldn't be here eating dry cheerios at 6:30 in the morning. It is a miracle. Beauty from ashes. Raised up from premature birth in some projects in Houston, from abandonment, to strong, confident, happy, belonging, loved, named. My heart could just burst at the thought of this. Thank you Isaiah my daily reminder that God's love is real and that it intervenes in the most desperate of circumstances. That he still moves in the most broken of systems. That he works these things together for our good. All glory to my Creator who against all odds fulfilled a promise that he made five years ago that you would come. Not just a baby but YOU (read Isaiah's story) A God who at His most perfect timing brought you to me because He knew who you are, and what your name was to be.

Isaiah 62:2-3
You'll get a brand-new name
straight from the mouth of God.
You'll be a stunning crown in the palm of God's hand,
a jeweled gold cup held high in the hand of your God.
No more will anyone call you Rejected,
and your country will no more be called Ruined.

Not Done Yet

Ever since Isaiah arrived, people have been asking: "Are you done now?" "Done with foster care?" "You will just adopt now, right?" "No more in-and-out?" "No more revolving door?" "Just take care of your kids." "You don't need to do that, you have done that already." We have fielded these questions in the last week as we have been informing people that we are not done. The news that there are two kids on the way to our house (albeit SLOWLY) has gotten mixed reviews.
I just want to say this: I have spent a lot of time wrestling with how this may affect my son. I have worried about how he may feel if we have some kids and they leave. I have ached at the thought of his little heart hurting. But God considered that. God loves Isaiah so much more that my broken human self can. He has a plan for Isaiah. A plan for us. His plan is good, and bigger than we can fathom. More than anything, I want Isaiah to grow up to be a man who loves Jesus, a man who loves his people, a man who has a heart for the kingdom of God, a man who will defend the weak, love the poor, and who will spend himself on behalf of the needy in the name of Jesus. I want those things more than Isaiah having his own room, or being the center of attention, or all the toys he wants. I want him to see that a life lived in obedience to his Creator is sacrificial but oh-so-full!
2 Corinthians 9: 8-11 says:
"God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you're ready for anything and everything, more than just ready to do what needs to be done. As one psalmist puts it,

He throws caution to the winds,
giving to the needy in reckless abandon.
His right-living, right-giving ways
never run out, never wear out.

This most generous God who gives seed to the farmer that becomes bread for your meals is more than extravagant with you. He gives you something you can then give away, which grows into full-formed lives, robust in God, wealthy in every way, so that you can be generous in every way, producing with us great praise to God."

So how many kids will we take in? How many will we adopt? When will we stop?
When God says stop, but not until then.

Crazy Is As Crazy Does

Well friends, our plan was to wait until August to go back on the open list for foster care. We didn't even get a chance to go back on the list before our agency called us about some kiddos who have been in care since May and because their foster family is having some extentuating circumsances, the kids are having to move. So here we go again. Time to transition.
I think it is super-ironic that a girl who loves stability, routine, and a plan has been called to a life that is virtually void of any of those. Whenever we go into a new transition, a new placement, some new kiddos, I think am I crazy.
Right now, my life is simple - it's a one-baby-no-bio-visits-sleep-all-night most nights, no-muss, no-fuss life. While this time with Isaiah has been sweet and I am thankful for the 5 months we have had, I have been chomping at the bit to get back into foster care. I know a lot of you may be wondering why. I, myself, wonder why some days.
Friends, there is so much ugliness and darkness in this world. Terrible things happen to people I love dearly and it breaks my heart and I cannot do anything about them. I can't do anything about most of the brokenness in the world. I can't do much of anything of significance for most people. But we can do this. By the grace of God, and only by that, can we do this. So we will.

Kingdom Come

Throughout this foster care journey, there is one prayer that has been constant: "Your will God, not mine." In the beginning, I will admit - I did not mean it. What I meant was: "Your will - as long as your will aligns with mine." My husband and I would pray "God - do your will in Abby, Panda, Joy, and Thomas' life," silently pleading: "but let them stay, make that your will, do not take them away from us."
Something has begun to shift. It started while Thomas and Joy were still here and it is still shifting. I started to trust Him more. Trust his will more. Trust the goodness of His plan more. Even if it hurts at the time, even if I can't see the reason or the purpose, I am actually starting to believe He has a plan.
Yesterday we found out that the fifteen-year-old who we wanted to adopt is no longer available for adoption. His current foster family, who at first did not want to adopt him (they were just a straight foster family), has changed their mind. This is awesome news. From what we have heard, they have really done wonderful things in his life. Theirs is the home in which he started to believe that he wanted, and was worthy of, a family. So while we are a little disappointed for us, we rejoice for him. This is the shift I am talking about. One year ago, this same news would have angered, saddened, and confused me. Yesterday when I got the call, I was so excited for this kid. He is home. It actually didn't matter all that much to me that it wasn't my home. I thought God's will was done. I don't know why the Lord told us to submit for him. I don't understand why he wasn't ours. But I trust His plan. Even when it means I don't get everything I want.
Last night we were driving home from a training and I was thinking about the Lord's prayer. Specifically, the line that says: "Kingdom come, YOUR will be done." That is when the Kingdom comes. When God's will is done in our lives. When we get out of the way. When we relinquish perceived control. When we put down our agenda. Then we see the kingdom come on Earth as it is in Heaven.

Sacred

We were supposed to go to church this morning but I woke up tired and sad. So we stayed home. I bathed my baby, we went on a walk just the three of us, I took a nap before nine, ate blueberry cobbler for lunch (I know this is recurring bear with me it's a grief thing). After all that I feel a little more healed, a little more whole. The sacred in the mundane. Slow down breath, talk a little less, listen a little more. It's there.

Mercy and Lemonade

Two of my children are going home. This is hard and it makes me want to detach, it also makes me impatient and testy. They are transitioning home now, which means that they are spending weekends with their mother. This makes them super-hyper, they test boundaries, turn up their volumes , are confused, but it excites them oh-so-much.

The other day, we had an activity planned for the afternoon, a play date with a friend. I picked them up from daycare and as I was in the process of getting the baby out of the baby room, they were running around the hall - screaming, climbing on things, acting downright feral. I blew my top because we have talked endlessly, and they know about how they are to behave when I am getting the baby out of his room. I told them to forget it, we were not going to the play date. I was frustrated and feeling daunted about how they might behave once we got there. I had horrifying visions of wrangling those two while tending to the baby as well. They were so upset, both crying and pleading, I just ignored them and headed home. As I was driving, the Lord said, "Come on, bless them," and I thought: Well, they don't deserve to go - they did not listen to me, they have been acting horribly. Then the thought popped into my head: "Good thing you don't get what you deserve" and with that thought, I turned the car around, went to the Chick-Fil-A drive thru, got each of us a lemonade, and headed to the play date, and said nothing about it. And you know what? They were fabulous, and I had a great time visiting with my friend.

Hear this: I am not condoning not following through with consequences; but I will say: sometimes a little mercy goes a long way. There is a sweetness to not getting what you deserve and to second chances. Sometimes, you can flip the whole day around by loving them up and blessing them unexpectedly.

Also, I now pick the older kids up after the baby, he is heavier but definitely easier to manage.

Kingdom Stuff

For the past two years we have had the privilege of attending our foster agency Kornerstone's Christmas party. This is an interesting celebration comprised of a show choir , some awkward MC-ing (is this a word?), chicken wings, the Rangers mascot, and foster families of all shapes and sizes. The last thing on that list is what makes it special. I know that the life we have been called to is not the norm and because of that it can get kinda lonely. People don't understand. In public strangers stare at you. Your friends say things like "But don't you want kids?" as you have three attached to your body. I am not saying this to get pity don't get me wrong I want NO other life, but sometimes it is lonely. But for 3 hours a year in Pantego, Texas we are part of the norm. I look around the room and see all these families a potpourri of colors, many with kids who have disabilities, and no one is staring, no gaping mouth's, or whispering, or glances, or insensitive questions and for that 3 hours I don't have to explain myself to anyone. I don't have to bite my tongue and pray for grace because these people get it. They look around and see what I see. That maybe the table we are sitting at looks like The banquet table. Maybe for that 3 hours Kingdom comes on earth as it is in heaven.

Temporal/Permanent/Eternal

Being a foster parent gives you an different perspective on time. You live a very temporary existence. You often times have no idea when children will be coming or going. You don't plan birthday parties or vacations in advance, you don't finish your Christmas shopping early. You don't fill out baby books because a bunch half filled out baby books are depressing. You carry on family traditions with a completely different family every holiday, so they don't so much feel like traditions. When we were was driving to Christmas Eve service this year I thought I did this with a completely different family last year (except for Matt) and I will do it again with a completely different family next year (except Matt and Isaiah). Your life is very temporary and abrupt. Rooms must be able to transition from age to age or from one gender to another. You have a just add water family. In the last year and a half I went from zero children to two back to zero back to two then up to three and now it looks like we will be back down to one very soon. You live in the temporal from court date to court date to mediation never knowing when you will get the call that they will be going home or to kin. You parent in spurts only seeing some of the harvest of the seeds you have sown. If you have had a placement for awhile the people in your life (who mostly exist in the permanent) forget that your family exists in the temporal. They are shocked when nine months later you announce that your (foster) kids will be going home. They ask "Why now?" they are confused and even outraged. And sometimes you may feel that way too. But you remind yourself that you don't live where they do, you live in the temporal. This has become even more obvious to me recently. I have an adoptive placement a little piece of permanent in my temporal world. But I am having a hard time adjusting. I have not been keeping a baby book. Some one asked me if I was going to through a big birthday part on his 1st birthday my first thought was "If he is still here". All of this can be super frustrating and confusing but thankfully as a believer there is another kind of time that is of the utmost importance the eternal . In those moments where you feel like you are spinning your wheels in a broken system you can rest in the fact that your work does have eternal value.

Hebrews 6:10 (New International Version, ©2010)
10 God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.