BLACK LIVES STILL MATTER

 I haven't blogged much this year, because I've mostly been surviving.  It's been a disappointing year on so many fronts, but nearing the top of the list for me has to be watching evangelical Christians become politically zealous in ways that seem not to honor the Lord.  This was distressing to me in the run up to the 2016 election as well, and it has continued in fervor and depth.  Social media in particular has felt like a dumpster fire of opinions, and I've watched in sadness as I've seen believers place a political leaning over grace, kindness, love, truth, empathy, compassion, and the list goes on.  Not only that, but many believers have done this using the Bible as a justification and a weapon.

I grew up as a conservative Evangelical Christian.  I understand the talking points and culture.  I used to believe that all Christians should have the same political beliefs, because of conservative values and pro-life and small government and so on.  The older I've gotten and the more of life that I've seen, the more I see that there are other perspectives that can ring true even inside of my faith.  My faith has continued to deepen, because my need for Christ remains constant.  I am more convinced than ever of my own depravity and shortcomings and blind spots and the ways that all of those play out as I seek to apply faith to politics.

A large part of this journey has come through our personal interactions with social justice issues, particularly racial justice.  (Here's a blog post I wrote about this in June)  As I've mentioned, this whole season has been difficult, and watching Americans disagree vociferously on the history of our country and the bearing that history has on our present has felt like we are living in some kind of twilight zone.  We, as Americans, oppressed and enslaved people for centuries, almost exclusively on the basis of race.  The idea of that leaving no legacy in the present is truly baffling.  Our current laws were passed within the lifetime of many people who are still very much alive.  

Even more disappointingly is the more recent learnings that I've had regarding the Church and the ways it has upheld these systems of oppression over time.  I read The Color of Compromise this summer which was an eye opening look at the way southern Christians used the Bible to justify slavery and kept using it to bolster segregation.  It feels that we are now witnessing the next phase where Christians are using it to denounce racial justice initiatives as anti-Biblical or Marxist.  Or to simply say that it is unAmerican and disrespectful for people to be upset in a country where they have so much.  There seems to be no protest that can please white Americans, and that is sort of the point.  It is a protest.

Listen, I love America and am so thankful to live here.  Truly.  However, I'm not going to put our country or flag above my allegiance to Christ and his kingdom.  I am called to love God and love my neighbors first and foremost.  And my Black neighbors are crying out and lamenting injustice.  I love America enough to want to make it actually a place that is good for all people that live here.  I believe that means fully recognizing and embracing our incredibly racist roots and working to upend the places where those seeds still grow and flourish.  As a side note, I am not a Socialist/Marxist/Communist.  We own a family business and appreciate Capitalism.  However, none of the good things we have here are without flaws.

I understand that many Christians are afraid.  Because they keep saying they are scared or they keep encouraging others to be afraid if such and such doesn't happen or so and so doesn't get elected.  So much has happened in the past year, and so much of it is confusing.  There is hypocrisy on all sides, and it is difficult to know where to find "unbiased" reporting in our country, because most major news outlets have very specific slants.  Even when they claim otherwise.  Anytime I find myself dwelling on fear, I try to center myself on Christ and the fact that this world is ultimately not my home.  I am found in him, and even if all else falls apart completely, I am not lost.

Our family does happen to be transracial, and so it is personal to us.  When we say Black Lives Matter, we are saying that our black kids matter just as much as our white kids, even though that has consistently been up for debate in society.  I will say it today and tomorrow and years from now if necessary to work to right the wrongs that have taken place here.  We can embrace a movement while also knowing it is flawed, because we are all broken people working within broken systems.  It is easier to debate theories than to engage in the work of dismantling systems or do the work it takes to recognize how racism has undergirded our society.

I'm not saying this is easy or straightforward.  It is exhausting.  But I believe it is holy work, and I am thankful that the Lord continues to show up as we walk this journey.  It has forced me to really examine policies and issues in different ways.  For example, I have always and will continue to identify as Pro-Life.  I believe that advocating for increased racial awareness for me comes out of that sentiment.  I heard someone say "Womb to Tomb" and thought that a helpful way to sum it up.  That said, I believe that reducing abortions can come about with several different kinds of policies and that there should be more conversations about birth control access and healthcare reform, both of which have been proven to decrease unwanted pregnancies and abortion.  I wish that we could have discussions that take a more holistic look at what is happening rather than demonizing anyone who doesn't agree exactly with us or do exactly as we would prescribe.

I write all of this humbly, knowing that I have blindspots that I haven't even discovered yet.  I am in process and working to submit myself before the Lord as I wrestle through these issues.  I know this post will hit people in a lot of different ways, and I ask for grace on all sides, because I know that so many of us are working to find our way through this.  We all come to situations with a unique blend of conviction, personality, and personal experience, and this is where I am currently landing based on those things in my life.  I do hope as Christians that we can find ways to respect one another and disagree graciously, because the world is watching.  And if we don't have love, then we don't have anything.

BLACK LIVES MATTER

I've been radio silent on the internet for about a month and even longer on the blog.  To say that 2020 has walloped me upside the head and deep into my heart would be an understatement.  There have been hard diagnoses in our family.  There has been the pandemic and subsequent quarantine that took away our support system and routines and left us isolated and a bit undone.  I've been battling situational depression and trying to find a way through our days.  It's been a lot and then some.

But here we are in June, and the race conversation has reached a fever pitch and groundswell that cannot and SHOULD NOT be ignored.  George Floyd's death and Breonna Taylor's and Ahmaud Arbery's have brought Black Lives Matter back to the forefront of everyone's attention.  There are protests and round the clock news coverage that switched from the ongoing depressing cycle of Coronavirus to conversations centered on race and talking heads debating why black men and women are still getting killed at the hands of police.  Or at the hands of vigilantes who are then not prosecuted by our justice system.  I know I am recapping the obvious, and unless you are living in a hole (which sounds pretty great right now), none of this is new info.  

When we stepped into being a transracial family over 7 years ago, we quickly realized that we had a lot of educating we needed to do for ourselves.  We became more intentional to ask questions of the people of color in our life and to seek out more voices of people who come from different backgrounds.  We got to know the family we had adopted into, and we have learned so much from the twins' grandmother who attended Central High and knows members of the Little Rock Nine personally, because she closely followed their footsteps.  I've diversified my social media feeds, though this is something I am still actively working on.  We've read books and listened to podcasts and watched documentaries.

We acknowledged our white privilege years ago.  (Here are posts I wrote back in 2014 and 2016) I am not trying to make us sound more "woke" than we are.  We are still working to dismantle the racism and prejudices and biases that live within us.  It's hard work to humbly understand the role our whiteness has played in our success, and it is devastating to realize that we have two children who will not be protected under our privilege umbrella throughout their lives because their skin is beautifully darker than our's.  I do not feel guilty about being white, but I understand that whiteness in our country can and has been weaponized.  I'm saddened to say that I was not shocked by these deaths occurring in our country.  I am angrier than ever before, and I'm grieving, but I moved past shock years ago.

I realize that so far, I've made this post about our family's journey.  I wanted to show that learning about race and privilege is a journey.  A marathon.  A lifestyle.  It's not something to do only while it's trending.  It's more than posting a black box on social media to make sure everyone knows that you do care about black people dying.  And if you are tired of hearing about racism, imagine how tired people must be of experiencing it? (paraphrased off an instagram quote I saw)

What I have so appreciated through this round of national racial conversations is the way so many white people have begun to understand that we need to listen.  We need to reflect.  Is slavery our fault?  No, but it informs our current reality, so to discount those centuries of oppression is to ignore our real history and context that adds depth and breadth to the anger we're seeing and experiencing.  

So now what?  This is the question I hear friends asking, and it's a good one.  Now that we are awake to the systemic racism, now what?  We are having conversations with those in our circle about this issue, and as of this weekend, we have attended our first protest as a family.  I must say this was an experience that resonated with me on several levels.  I realized that I've not had many reasons to protest in my life, which means that mostly, systems work for me, an upper-middle class white lady.  There is also something very intentional about attending a protest - we took time to write out signs, which meant really trying to figure out what we wanted to say and taking the time to say it.  We explained to our kids what we were doing and why.  (We also loaded up a backpack full of snacks, treats and drinks, because it was over 90 degrees and at dinner time.)  It felt a little weird to pull up and unload, and because of the racial makeup of our family, it always feels like we draw a few more looks.  But, people smiled, and there was so much solidarity in the togetherness (while most of us were wearing masks, because what a delight that all of this is happening during a global pandemic).  

It was also a reminder of the nuance and listening that is still required.  Honestly, I didn't necessarily "agree" with all of the signs that I saw.  And as certain people were talking, I realized that I wasn't "comfortable" with everything being communicated.  However, it has pushed me to do more research - to learn what it might mean to rethink the role of police in our society and how funds could be shifted around to address the real needs of our communities and to listen to the people this is affecting negatively.  Again, the system has worked for me, but that does NOT mean that it is working.

We will continue to broaden our circle and have hard conversations that require humility and being uncomfortable.  We attend a predominantly Black church once a quarter to give ourselves and our bio kids the opportunity to experience being the minority every once in a while and to have a greater understanding of Black Christian culture in our city.  We work with an incredibly diverse population that feels keenly and strongly about everything going on.  John has spent a lot of time listening and dialoguing with members of our team, which has continued to open our eyes.  We are still learning so much.  It's super messy, but I am hopeful that real change is possible.  I can't speak to all that should look like, but I am hopeful that examining the systems and mechanics of what got us here will allow us to bring more accountability and change.  

I've seen lots of people scared to post anything for fear of getting it wrong.  I know that I will get it wrong, but I would rather say something than nothing.  I would rather share about things that matter to our family deeply than to ignore what is happening.  I realized that even though I feel a bit redundant, that is because of the social feeds that I have curated over the last seven years.  I can use my voice in my own circles.  

And lastly, to any brothers and sisters in Christ that may be reading this, please know that this issue needs more than prayer.  Racism is a sin/heart problem, yes, but the ways that it has spilled into our society require real cultural and policy change.  To simply say that you are praying it gets better is an incomplete response.

And because I am by NO MEANS an expert, I would love to point you to just a few books authored by Black people that are enlightening.  If you need more resources, just check the New York Times Bestseller list this week - most of them are centered on racial issues.

Under Our Skin by Benjamin Watson

Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson

I'm Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness by Austin Channing

Be The Bridge by Latasha Morrison

Here are some of the Black people I follow on Instagram that I am continually learning from.

{ Latasha Morrison } { Austin Channing Brown } { Emmanuel Acho } { Osheta Moore }

{ Morgan Harper Nichols } { Danielle Coke } { Angela Tucker } { Jo Saxton }

LAUGHING WITH THE DREAM TEAM

Last October, I connected with a group of adoptive moms mostly from my church who attended the WITH Retreat.  We bonded through shared laughter and shared understanding of the complexities in each of our families.  I've said it a million times - adoption is beautiful and complex, and no one understands this as well as people who are in it with you.



We've been meeting together almost monthly to share our stories and celebrate God's faithfulness, and one of our Enneagram One members graciously agreed to spearhead planning a retreat for us.  Lo and behold, a cabin was offered by a wonderful hostess, and because we are a group of moms, we easily filled in the rest of food and fun.  We shed our collective 45 kiddos and holed up for two delightful days.

I rode with a few friends, and we started a little early with a late lunch.



And then, we headed to the lake to meet up with the rest of our crew!

The whole experience was dreamy.  There was coffee on the porch overlooking the lake.

There was enough food to last for days.  People who wanted to read in the shade did exactly that.  People who wanted to sleep until 9:30 both days did exactly that. 🙋🏻‍♀️  Many of us spent hours floating in the lake on Saturday, and since we are still experiencing intense heat, this was very refreshing.



We had a group pilates session and a spa night!

But mostly, we had laughter - so much of it that my abs are a bit sore.  Though that might also be the pilates talking.  These women are treasures - each and every one.  We played games and talked and laughed and my heart healed little by little.  It's been a hard week/month/year, and I was a bit bruised and fragile going into the weekend.  But God used these people to lift me up the whole time.  We were honest about the hard, but this weekend, that is not where we camped out, and I think we all needed that.  There is plenty of hard that we got to leave at home.




If you don't have people, find some.  Especially the kind that agree to match hair with you and take crinkly eyed selfies in the sun.  Do the work - because don't let the ease of this blogpost fool you - this takes works.  Be intentional.  Be vulnerable.  It pays dividends in support, treasured friendships and bellyaches from laughing.  Having a tribe of people that points me to Jesus through their own lives and reminds me that we can all do hard things is invaluable.  So thankful for this crew and this time!

OUR 3RD MOM

As I looked back at old Mother's Day posts, I realized that I've had some angst.  Also, I was just angsty a lot of last year, so that probably contributed.  Last year, I wrote about how painful it is to share children with a woman who doesn't get to be part of the picture.  This year, I'm choosing to write about her mother that we also now share.

Super ironically, when John and I began our adoption journey, we started out in Ethiopia: one of the many reasons is that I didn't want to deal with "birth family drama."  This reveals a lot of my own naivety and a bit of ignorance about how adopted children are going to wrestle with birth family issues no matter where they are from.  But - in God's graciousness, he threw out everything I thought we were doing and instead, led us to domestic adoption that includes 3 bio half siblings and involved grandparents all living in town.

This morning, my sweet sister friend dedicated their 5th child at church and Gran Gran came to be part of it all.

She ended up next to me in the service, and our church had women come up and honor all different kinds of mothers - single mothers, foster mothers, mothers who have experienced loss, special needs mothers, adoptive mothers and spiritual mothers.  Another piece of our puzzle is that the twins' birth mom was adopted by Gran Gran when she was a baby.  As they spoke to us as adoptive mothers, we clutched hands as tears rolled down our cheeks.  It's harder than we thought it would be, and we are more blessed than we ever imagined.  And we found each other.

I never get over being thankful that God chose a different story for our family that has broadened our horizons and relationships in such beautiful ways.  We have a full blown adoptive family and got a 3rd mother as part of the deal.  She loves us all BIG and prays for us and shows up.  And God gave her extra sons and daughters and a TON of extra grandchildren that she loves all the same.  There is so much pain mixed up in the story, but I want to hold on tight to the beauty and joy that shines brightly through it all.

I also got to see so many of my favorite moms at church this morning, and I will just say that I cannot imagine doing life without being able to link arms with other women who are pursuing the Lord and the best for their families.



We took John's mom (and dad and Gran Gran) out for lunch before heading to the garden center to pick out some flowers.  All in all, it was a lovely day, and we even got a nap.

My own children gave me precious and hilarious bits of art and writing and reiterated their love for me today.  And, I got to talk to my own wonderful mother this evening.  Basically, we managed to cover all the Mother's Day bases.



I hope that wherever Mother's Day takes you today that you have a soft landing.  I know that it is complicated, and today, I'm thankful to be able to see all the bright sides of ours.

WITH RETREAT

Let me let you in on an open secret: Adoptive and foster mothers are fierce.  We have to be.

We fiercely love the children that God has placed in our homes.

We fiercely fight to bring them home and advocate for their needs as they arise.

We dream fierce dreams for what our kids' futures can hold.

It's an intense group, but it has to be to meet the needs of the job.  Motherhood is sanctifying in all forms, truly.  And adoption and foster care add different layers and shadings to the experience.  It's nice to be with a group of people who fully embrace and live that out, and this weekend, I had just such an opportunity.

I've been wanting to make it to the WITH Retreat for several years, but the date has never worked out for me.  Last year, my desire to attend only increased, because it came under the Immerse umbrella, which is near and dear to my heart.

I drove up with Marla and Christy and relished the time we got together all weekend.  We had to go up late due to a funeral in Marla's family that day, so we sadly missed the first evening.  The theme for the weekend was "Remember His Faithfulness," and anytime I look back on our adoption journey, I am awestruck at all the Lord did to bring William and Violet into our family.  It's easy to forget in our day to day lives.  In all the chaos and sometimes heartache, I can lose track of the miracles that brought us together.  And make no mistake, there are so many miracles along the way.  It can still bring me to tears.

The speaker was Heather Avis who encouraged us all and spoke truth into our lives.  One of the things she said that struck me was,

"You don't need to know.  You need to remember."

As I look forward into the future of our family, I can become overwhelmed with all the things that could go wrong.  Fear can creep insidiously through the unknowns.  Instead of trying to know and figure out and spiral into despair and uncertainty, this is one place where going backwards helps.

Forever and always God has proven himself in my life.  Does this mean that things always go the ways that I wish they would?  NO NO NO.

BUT, God is present.  He is walking with me.  He is working things for my ultimate good and his ultimate glory, and I've seen it over and over again in specifics and in broad sweeping strokes.  He's doing the same for every one of my children, and I can trust what he has for all of us, even while knowing that I may not like every bit of it.  He is good, and as I remember his goodness, I can gratefully surrender and reclaim hope.

One way that I saw his goodness this weekend was in the people that I spent time with.  I knew that I would adore spending extra time with Christy and Marla, my sweet adoptive friends that I regularly do life with.  But, we were also able to connect with other adoptive/foster mothers from our church, and we shared a LOT of laughter together.  After the week we'd had, laughter truly did our hearts good, and I don't take it for granted.



There were also the bonuses of sleeping in a very dark and quiet hotel room and eating food that I had nothing to do with the preparation or clean up of.  Churros are always a good idea.  So is cake.  The chocolate covered espresso bean is the icing on the cake.  😜

My heart is refreshed moving forward, and I'm so thankful to be part of the work of Immerse Families and to benefit from it firsthand!

APPROACHING KINDERGARTEN

We have been on such a journey with our precious twinsies.  When I looked back at the blog to see when I first chronicled their "delays," I was stunned to realize how early we started therapy.  By their six month checkup, they were missing some milestones, and after lots of evals and mounds of paperwork, we began various therapies beginning around 8 months.

Let me just say - that is hours upon hours of therapy in the last four years as we've led up to kindergarten and real deal school which will commence for them in August.  😳  In the past couple of months, we have done a truckload of testing, both through the school district and through a private office to get a better idea of what services they might need and how they are functioning.  John and I have both been to hours of meetings with tables of people who are invested and care.  It's been encouraging and overwhelming.

(very accurate picture of twins these days. 😹)

Honestly, when we started all of these things in earnest several months ago, we were in a darker place behaviorally with the twins at home.  All kids cycle through times that are harder than others, and it seemed that both W & V were struggling with things that felt outside of all of our control.  I think the pictures we painted for everyone in those initial meetings were on the bleak side.

That said, after days of testing through two different places and all the feedback that we have since attended, things are looking more hopeful than I would have ever anticipated.  Things have also taken a turn for the better on the home front, and though I am not certain it will last, I am so thankful for a bit of respite.  I'm not going to publicly disclose the highs and lows of what we have learned, but I want to say that I am grateful.

Here's a brief list of gratitude in the midst of all this:

*early intervention - I am SO SO glad we got help at the very first signs of certain issues.  This has been confirmed over and over as both twins have mostly caught up to their peers in many areas.  It is immensely gratifying to feel like we got something right, and I'm so grateful for the wisdom God has continued to give us in this area.

*full-time preschool - I was hugely hesitant to put my babies into a full-time preschool program, because it was not something I imagined doing as a stay-at-home mom.  BUT, I am so glad that they have had the added structure and focus on kindergarten readiness that I would not have been able to give at home.  They have a community of teachers and therapists who love them and have poured into them, and we are reaping the benefits of it now.

*eyes wide open - I am by nature an optimist and also have denial as a ready coping mechanism.  It is easier for me to not see things and hope for the best and keep on my merry way.  HOWEVER, because of the issues that have arisen and our wanting the absolute best for our children, we are facing things head on.  We are asking questions.  We are getting every last bit of help we can find.  We are getting the tests and learning the results and leaning into what those results will mean for our family.  We are adapting and adjusting how we parent and strategizing our approaches in totally new ways.  This has taken an enormous amount of time and energy and money and will continue to.  But IT IS WORTH IT.

*great resources - God has been so gracious to lead us to the right places for our family.  I get a little teary thinking about some of the helpless moments we've had in the last year and the crying out for help that we've done.  And person by person and place by place, God has positioned us so well.  John and I have both personally had great relationships with therapists for ourselves, and I am so thankful for the play therapist we have as a family, as well as the testing center and our schools.  It feels as if there is an army of people at work in this with us, especially when I also see our family and friends on all sides lifting us up in prayer and cheering us on.  I do not take this support for granted.

(back to back testing days earlier this month)

As for the beautiful faces pictured here, I am so honored to be their mother.  I can see that God put us all together, because we need each other to become the people that God intends for us to be.  They need John and I to shepherd and love and plan, and we need them to remind us to look to the Lord for all things and trust in his glorious plan for each of us.

And in the fall, I'll have two new kindergarteners!

AT THE SWIRLING CENTER

This past weekend was the Mother's Day hullabaloo that I have come to mostly dislike. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I've written about my conflictions before, and so I won't go all the way into those.  But it is challenging.  We're supposed to be celebrating one of the foundational relationships we have in our lives - that of mother and child - wherever you might happen to fall on that spectrum.  However, there are a million ways to fall in a painful place and only a few sweet spots.

Truthfully, I land on a lot of the sweet spots.  I have a wonderful mother, a great mother-in-law, and even a fantastic bonus mother gained through our adoption.  Seriously, the women we have been gifted in these roles are treasures, and I do not take them for granted.  And I am a mother four times over with precious children who love to celebrate me and woke me up with Mother's Day balloons in bed.  I clearly have a lot of Mother's Day blessings, and this is not lost on me.



But ever since adopting, Mother's Day is just hard.  I was not, nor can I ever be, the first mom for two of my children.  I've spent a lot of time lately thinking about William and Violet's biological mother.  We have an entire family built around the children she has birthed, and she sits at the swirling center.  She's the missing piece - a large hole in the family puzzle that does not feel complete without her.  Sometimes, the unfairness of it all swirls around me, and I sink into feelings that are too big to contain.

When I put my Mother's Day and her Mother's Day up to the light, the differences are staggering.  I'm the one with the children to hug.  I'm doing the hard work, but I am reaping the sweet rewards.  She and I have made divergent choices, along the way, some of which have led to where we both sit in this story.  But the raw ingredients we started with also had a lot to do with where we have ended up.  I was handed practically a winning hand, and she was not.  Neither of us can take credit or blame for the cards we were dealt.  There are obvious consequences to the ways we have each played our hands, but the decks were stacked in such opposite directions to begin with that it makes comparison feel a bit moot.

As I look forward to the years ahead, my heart continues to shred into tiny pieces when I think of her.  Her heartache, her wishing, her pain.  Years pass, and instead of it getting easier, the waters get deeper with things she has missed and opportunities she will never have in our kids' lives.  I have so many questions for God about why it is the way it is.  From my finite perspective, I cannot understand the whys or hows or whats of our stories, especially hers.

I want to write different endings.  I want to see redemption here on earth.  I want the beauty from ashes, but the fire is still burning hot, and I don't know when it will be extinguished.  So I pray, and I ask God to envelope her in his grace and remind her of his love that she has seen in action for her whole life.  I fall on his grace and mercy and remind myself that he loves her more than any of us ever could, and he sees her.  She is not alone.

For now, I'll go on raising our children - savoring the sweet moments that come with hands on either side of my face and kisses and the "Mommy, I Love Yous" that fall out of their mouths so quickly.  They are such beautiful children that we share, and I hate that she misses that.

STILL AMAZED BY ALL GOD HAS DONE

Back in early March, I had been asked to speak at a women's event to share our story.  As I prepared for that night, I was freshly amazed by all that God has wrought in our family in the last six years.  It is beautiful and painful and astonishing and far more than I could have ever dreamed of for both better and worse.



Sharing with those women brought all the feelings rushing back.  The longing, the terror, the unknown, the joy, the happiness, the beauty, the love, the heartache - all of it.  All the feels.  The words tumbled out of me while I held the tears in, mostly.  Some leaked out, because I was on stage, and I tend to get weepy when I talk about all the things God has done and is doing, and I'm just pretty raw these days.

Sometimes I feel like grabbing the popcorn, pulling up a seat and waiting to see what will unfold.  It has been a wild ride - one that I have not been able to predict at all.  And we have been gifted so many unexpected joys along the way.  Other times, I want to curl up in a ball and cry over the hardness of everything - over the unfairness and the ways I can't control it.  (another thing that I can't control - whether or not William in particular will have any desire to be in a picture with all of his bio-sisters - see John's hands affixing him to the couch whilst he desperately struggles to escape 🤣)



This spring, in addition to celebrating W & V's birthday, we also got to celebrate Lizzie's - such a joyous occasion!

(despite the look on her face in this photo, Violet absolutely adores Lizzie!)

And, another sweet friend's birthday is the same day as William and Violet's, so we enjoyed her Flamingo party as well.  To see the way that God has woven these stories and people and lives together is truly a marvel.  It never gets old, though it also never gets easy.

When I was sitting on the red couch in my counselor's office pouring out my heart, she noted how near God is to our family.  She was able to cite example after example of ways that he has made himself known to us, even in the last couple of months.  Sometimes we need that other voice to point out the obvious ways that God is manifest within the hardness.

Other times, I'm handed pristine reminders at the dinner table.  One night, we posed the question, "If you could wake up tomorrow morning and find that the top news headline was about you - what would you want it to be?"  Bella was the first to answer,

"I would want it to say that I adopted twins who had brown skin."

My heart grew a hundred times over as I was reminded that God is working in the midst of all this, and there will be ramifications far beyond us.  Transracial adoption has so many challenges (as does adoption in general!), but these are the moments worth fighting for, and my gratitude shivers deep in my bones.

And something that I am learning over and again and carving inside my soul is that God is smack dab in the middle of the pain.  It's where he camps out and shows up and walks alongside.  He is guiding and directing and most of all, comforting.  He is taking the questions and the unknowns and holding them up against his love and the certainty of our hope in him.

So, as we walk through the fire, we won't get burned.  I may come out a bit singed around the edges, and I may smell like burning hair, but I will be there, because of the goodness and faithfulness of my God, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

DON'T STARE AT THE DITCH

There are a host of ways to land in a ditch.  As I lunched with a friend last week, she told me of when she learned to ride a bike on back country roads in a farming state.  If you aren't familiar with roads like these, please understand that there are giant ditches on either side - probably for drainage or some other useful purpose that I don't care enough to google.  Anyway, my friend was terrified of landing in the ditch on her bike.  So much so that she would watch the ditch and inevitably swerve her bike in that direction.  Her father kept repeating, "Don't stare at the ditch!  Look at the road - where you want to be!"

It's safe to say that I've spent more than my fair share of time staring at the ditch lately.  I've been consumed with fear for all the ways that life can and might go wrong.  I've been worried about the future of each of my children for different reasons, and I've been frustrated by the lack of control that I have over their ultimate destinies.  There are real concerns and questions, and instead of setting them up against a backdrop of hope and truth, I have spiraled into sadness and anger.

The last few months have just about done me in.  More like the last few years or 15 or so.  Not entirely sure where to put a beginning point to it all, but the cumulative effect of life can certainly be wearing.  A few weeks ago, all the waves seemed to break at once as I lost my footing in all of the feelings.  There was the usual gauntlet of spring emotions for me, and this year, I've been facing some added realities of our family life being more challenging than I hoped it would be at this point.

Several week ago, my counselor noted that I am likely dealing with some situational depression.  She cited my general lack of hope as I spoke of the future, as well as the anger that I described that is unusual for me.  Her words were both enlightening and discouraging.  In some ways, it gave me permission to feel even more deeply, which meant later that week, John and I found ourselves in a parking lot, outside of an event that we needed to attend, with me heaving sobs and trying not to hyperventilate.  I did rally enough to stare catatonically around and scrape through the evening, but it served as a bit of a wake up call for the way I am dealing (or not dealing) with life.

Since then, I've been more mindful of how I'm spending my time and energy and looking for ways to conserve both, as well as trying to engage in things that are life-giving.  I already work out regularly, but I've been bringing my eating back under control (a little) and trying to drink more water (my nemesis).  I've been spending time with friends and endeavoring to sleep the right amount and all the things that we all know will make us feel better in life when we actually do them.

I've also had to be honest with myself about where I'm at by paying attention to the depressive spells and recognizing when I need to adjust what is going on when possible.  As someone who usually embraces fun and runs from pain, this self-examination does not come naturally.  But it is important, because there are other ways to land in a ditch.

I spent my high school years in Kansas where I lived in a tiny town on the outskirts of Wichita.  There were dirt roads and fields everywhere.  One morning, I was running late to church (I was likely running late to church every time I went, but I was in a particular hurry this time), and I was driving fast on a dirt road - probably about 70 mph.  I was 16 and didn't have enough experience to realize how dumb this was.  I don't remember why, but I needed to brake suddenly.  My car spun out of control, and I landed in the ditch.  I was able to drive out of it, and I'm not sure I ever even "mentioned" it to my parents, since there was no damage to the car.

I feel like I am trying to walk the tightrope of not freaking out about all the bad things that could happen while also recognizing and preparing for some negative possibilities.  Ultimately, this means living surrendered to the Lord and knowing that he guides and directs our steps and cares for us every step of the way.  I have to learn how to drive and not gravitate towards the ditch or speed past it and end up there anyway.  So tricky - at least for me.

One moment at a time.  One day at a time.  I'm hoping to walk more by faith and trusting the heart of God who loves us all more than I can comprehend.  This life is littered with situations I cannot understand, but little by little, I must put my trust in the one who gives life and loves the most.  Even and especially when I feel sad, angry and upset.  God can handle all of those feelings and then some, and he offers an easy burden and a bright hope for tomorrow.  I'm infinitely better off when I am looking at those.



Also, I'm working to soak in the sweet moments, which we have been gifted in spades.  There is tons of hard, but also tons of good.  I'm so thankful.

TARMAC MOMENTS

Our trip to Disney was truly magical - it was.  We had so much cherished time together and will carry wonderful memories away from it.  I'm so very grateful we had the opportunity, and we enjoyed a lot of our time away!  Re-entry, however, was brutal, as is often the case.  It was a rough come down.

On the way home, things got turned a bit on their head.  The flight between Orlando and Dallas was about 2.5 hours - not terrible, but definitely a longer flight.  Our flight schedule had been changed after we booked it, and our layover in Dallas was set to be shorter than we had anticipated.  We needed to move quickly to make our next flight.

As you might imagine, moving quickly as two adults is one thing.  Moving quickly with four kiddos in tow is another thing.  We had to change terminals, which involved the Skylink, which involved very long escalators that can look pretty intense to little eyes.  Our chaos unfolded little by little as one child and then two were on the escalator, and one child and then two were running, while laughing, in opposite directions away from the escalator.  Needless to say, we were a spectacle, and it took a bit to all be back together.  Thankfully, everyone was fine and eventually made it down the escalator.

We made it to our next gate in plenty of time, not realizing that things were being delayed due to the rain.  We ended up sitting on the tarmac in the plane for over an hour and a half, or maybe a day and a half - I'm not sure.  We might still be there.  We had gone through, or gotten bored with, all snacks, most technology, and we had been at Disney for almost a week.  None of our children were at their finest, and one in particular was letting it all hang out there.

We did get called out over the PA to have the child "standing in the aisle to please sit back down and stay buckled." The fact that this pronouncement came in a British accent did not make me feel better about it.  John and I were beyond done at this point, and both sort of shrugged our shoulders at each other, because WHAT ELSE CAN YOU DO?

Someone near us in the plane helpfully remarked, "I don't think that's going to go well."  There is nothing quite so fun as being in a confined place where all of your parenting and struggle becomes public consumption for those around you.  It is a strange mix of humiliation and horror at the lack of control.

We did finally take off and make it to Little Rock and home, obviously.  Mercifully, both twins fell asleep on the flight, because we were all exhausted.  As I recounted this experience to my counselor last week, tears poured down my face.  It was, and is, painful.  We don't have all the answers yet, even though we are getting all the help.  We may never have all the answers to the best way to handle every situation everywhere that we go.

It's hard to be on display.  It's hard to have children act out in public.  It's even harder when it seems that those around you have opinions about that.  The hardest thing is that right now, whether public or private, there are things we are working through that we cannot get a handle on.  In my best moments, I trust the Lord and lean into him, knowing that he put us all together and is working in and through us.  In my worst moments, I become really angry about how hard it is and how I don't know what to do.

As I have continued to learn about myself (I'm looking at YOU, Enneagram), one of the things that is most challenging for my personality is to lean in to the pain.  I want to distract, avoid, gloss over, run around and/or just pretend it isn't happening or that I am not feeling it.

There was no escaping that plane.  We were all stuck in it together, and you know what?  Eventually, the plane took off.  We even had the unexpected boost of other planes having to leave the line, because they had run out of fuel, so we went from 25th in line to 10th very quickly.  (though I did feel bad for those other planes😬)  So, my current challenge from my counselor is to pay attention to the pain.  To be quiet and know that while it will not last forever, I need to acknowledge it now.  And that in the pain and the quiet is where I meet the Lord.

We're calling them "Tarmac Moments" - has a certain ring to it, no?  For me, it rings true.  When I go back to that plane in my mind, I remember that we did finally take off and land, and that things are okay.  Sometimes there is no escaping, but it will not last forever.  And God did carry us through, because he is good and faithful, always.  Whether you, or I, are stuck on the tarmac or have managed to take off and land, I hope and pray that we lean into the pain and the Lord.

CURRENT ADOPTION THOUGHTS

It's hard to put into words the many layers of complexity, both good and hard, that adoption brings into our family.  Because we chose to bring children into our family this way, we've been given gifts far beyond our wildest imagining.  We have an entire extra family that has grown to include some of our closest friends - we never could have dreamed it up!  Our bonus family has expanded our worldview and brought so much bonus love, something we (and especially our children) can never have enough of.

As John and I have both spent time reflecting on the past years and working with a coach and counselor, it has become clear that the adoption complexities do add stress to our family.  Sometimes, there are more questions than answers.  Sometimes, there is more fear than faith.  Often, there are behaviors and issues that arise that we do not feel equipped for.

There's something about being a parent that makes me doubt me.  Like, I'm getting it all wrong and failing in the most important places.  Like I will do irreparable harm when I get angry and snap or yell.  And adoption has a sneaky way of magnifying these doubts.  As if I put them under a microscope and can see even the tiniest details of my failures that lurk beneath it all.  Let's face it - the stakes are very, very high.  I mean, no pressure, right?!?

Please hear me when I say that by and large, I believe (and know deep down) I'm doing the best that I can.  I'm also getting the help and reaching out for even more.  We are scheduled to start Theraplay next month, and I am filled with hopeful anticipation for new tools and increased connection with our children.  With all my heart, I know that we have the family that God built for us, and while parts of it are incredibly challenging, we wouldn't change a thing.

It's tricky to navigate how to tell our combined stories in a way that is open and vulnerable, which creates connection and hope, but is also protective and honoring of our children.  I don't feel at liberty to splash the crazy details of all the drama and mayhem, because I never, ever want any of my children to feel that their personal stories are overexposed.  I know this is a constant and ever-changing personal battle in our current climate, and the older my kids get, the harder it seems to be.  I've heard from mothers of older kids how lonely those years can feel, because you cannot rally immediate support over your teenager's "antics" the way that you could your toddler's.  We're several years away from teenagers, but I can feel the shift beginning.

I love adoption, and more than that, I love the God who creates families built out of ashes turned into beauty.  But I cannot forget or dismiss the ashes - here on earth, they leave traces and stains and require attention and effort and healing.  It is SO BEAUTIFUL and SO PAINFUL all at the same time.  We got all the riches, but each coin that we are holding has those two sides to it - never one without the other.

I say all of this to paint a realistic picture of our current reality.  We are in the trenches.  Some days are absolutely fine, and we seem to be a "normal" family, whatever that means.  Other days go off the rails completely, and I find myself crying in a closet.  It's just where we are.

I love these two (and my other two) with all of my heart, and I cannot imagine my world without them.  This trip to Target last month had too many highs and lows to count, and I relished the smiles when I got them.  While I was at Target, John was at Wal-Mart (apparently we over-shop at discount stores?) with the big girls, and he ran into the twins' birth mom.  She seemed to be doing all right, but it is still a jarring experience and reminder of all of the good and the hard.

In summation, I'm so thankful and heart-glad and at the same time still trying to figure it all out and praying for lots and lots of wisdom and guidance and patience and grace and strength.

MLK DAY

Our family and our story has been written in ways that I never dreamed of or imagined.



I never dreamed of it, but Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. did, well before I was born.  He dreamed that "little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers," and because of God's grace, Dr. King's dream and so many other miraculous movings, my children reflect this hope.  It is astounding and makes me smile and breaks my heart.

Because, even as larger pieces of Dr. King's dreams have come to fruition than he ever got to witness, we still have so far to go.  If you believe that racism is no longer something that America struggles with, then you are almost certainly white.  No person of color buys into that idea.

And while our society has made strides to correct injustices, the fact remains that so many injustices are ongoing and continue to be raw, gaping wounds.  The pain is real.  The fear is still there, and rightly so.  This is NOT ancient history that we are dealing with.  The Little Rock Nine are mostly still alive.  The twins' grandmother personally knows them, because she followed closely in their footsteps and attended Central HS a few years later and is still haunted by those memories.  The stories are brutal and being carried around by a generation that is still alive and very much apart of our community.

For me to learn this, it has taken a lot of listening.  I have to hear the stories and pay attention and not discount experiences that I can't imagine.  Truly, I cannot imagine, because I have been born into such privilege just by the color of my skin.  But little by little, I am learning.  John and I read Under Our Skin last year, which I highly recommend, because it sheds even more light onto what it is like to be black in today's America.

Also, since this day is honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, here's an except from what he wrote from a jail cell in Birmingham.  (To read it in its entirety, click here)

"First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection."

Honestly, it is hard to know how to speak to all of this as a white woman.  I know that I do not have all the answers - nor can I see it all clearly.  I don't get to adopt black children and suddenly understand everything.  I am scared of saying the wrong thing and causing offense on either side of this issue, because I cannot grasp things perfectly.  It would be easier to stay quiet and be privately saddened by the current climate in our country.

But I am coming to understand that my silence can be part of the problem.  I will not get everything right, but I want to align myself with who I believe Jesus would align himself with: those who are oppressed, downtrodden and outcast.  When I look around, those people often have skin darker than mine, and I do not think that is a coincidence - it's a byproduct of a society that continues to work against people of color.  A society that pays lip service to equality while perpetuating segregation.  If you have to say that you are not a racist, it probably means that you are a racist, because actions speak louder than words.

So, on this Monday where we honor Dr. King, I want to honor him with my small voice.  I want to cry out for justice and open hearts and listening ears.  Obviously, this issue is now deeply personal to me, because two of my children have the most beautiful brown skin in the world.  As it stands right now, their future appears to be harder than my children with beautiful less pigmented skin.  This is not undue pessimism - this is reality.  My white privilege can only shelter them so long.

I can only hope and pray that we are all joining together to make their journey brighter and more hope-filled.  I can lift my voice to stand with my brothers and sisters and son and daughter of color.  I would love for you to join us.

ADOPTION AWARENESS MONTH

It's no secret that adoption plays a major role in our family.  Two of our children came to us through adoption, and we've become heavily involved and invested with orphan-care ministries in our city and other adoptive families.  We see it as part of God's heart beat, and we've been so privileged to live it in such a personal way.



I've been composing this post in my mind for a while, because I've realized that when you are immersed in the world of adoption, it is easy to take concepts and ideas for granted.  As an adoptive family, we've spent a ton of time and effort learning about trauma, attachment and connective parenting styles.  We've read and engaged and been heart-broken to look at statistics and try to understand the uphill battle that it can often be to parent children from hard places.  Because I was raised in a functional family, it took a long time for me to really understand how very hard certain places can be and how much abuse and neglect can impact a person for the entirety of their lives.

And though I certainly understand far more now than I used to, I never lived it or walked through the horror of being abandoned or taken from a parent or abused.  I will never be able to fully empathize with what my children have been through and the ways that will impact them forever.  I can't comprehend the depths of pain that come from surviving the foster care system only to "graduate" to the streets and a world that you aren't equipped for.

Many of us have never had this experience.  November is National Adoption Awareness Month, so I thought I'd take this chance to share a few "entertainment" options that shed a lot of insight into this hard and beautiful world.  I believe it is possible to gain a bit more compassion and understanding through reading and/or watching movies or television shows that do a good job of telling some of these stories - even if fictional.  I'm gonna give you a little list to start from if you want a little more awareness this November.

• This Is Us: I've written about it before on the blog, but this show is SO good and gives incredible insight into adoption, both the good and the bad.  Randall was adopted as a baby and has become such a success, but there is still a lot of pain and struggle.  We are only a couple of episodes into the second season, but now that baseball is over, we plan to catch up quickly!

• Lion: I put off watching this Best Picture nominee for a long time, because I knew it would be an emotional experience.  And though it did end with John and I both sobbing on the couch, it was every bit worth it.  It's a beautiful, gut-wrenching true story of a boy who got separated from his family in India and ended up being adopted by an Australian family.  It also does a good job of showing the differences in a child who came from love, as this boy did, contrasted by a child who had likely suffered some trauma, as his adoptive brother had.  It is based on the memoir A Long Way Home, which I haven't yet read, but have heard is also excellent.

• The Language of Flowers:  This is a novel that might only seem tangentially related to this subject, but for me, I felt it was very insightful to the world and feelings of a foster child, especially a foster child that is then called to transition to adulthood.  It shows how she struggles to connect with people and understand her world and relationships.  There is some difficult content and language, but nothing incredibly graphic. 

• Project Zero: This is a local non-profit that works specifically to match Arkansas waiting children to forever families.  This video highlights some of the issue with real faces, not fictional ones.  I shed all the tears when one boy said that he would turn into a rainbow if he were to be adopted.

Other adoptive parents out there - I'd love to hear what other resources, fictional or otherwise, you've found to be enlightening!

WRAPPING UP RWANDA

When I think back to our Rwanda trip, there are so many cherished memories.  The blog posts that I wrote definitely highlight a lot of our experiences, but there are so many things that didn't fit into a neat category.  I decided to write one more catch all post with the odds and ends that helped make this an unforgettable adventure.



I'll break this down in some large bullet points for us all.

▪️Celebrity Sightings:  While in Amsterdam the first time, we actually recognized CeeLo Green who was headed to a concert in Latvia.  He was kind enough to take a picture with John and Violet. 😂



Not 30 minutes later, John thought that he saw Harrison Ford boarding our plane.  We thought he must just be in celebrity sighting mode after seeing CeeLo, but no, it was actually Harrison Ford boarding our flight to Kigali. 😳🤣 We ended up going through customs with Harrison and his wife, Calista Flockhart, who did get to witness the twins having meltdowns and gave us commiserating looks.  It certainly felt like we were living in an alternate reality.

▪️People who Helped Us:  The house where we stayed was very nice, but the best thing about it was the people who were there to help us.  Shauntel cooked our meals and kept us fully stocked on fresh juice. She also swooped in to help clean up a potty-training accident, which was kind and amazing, and I would regularly find her playing with the twins.

Shaka acted as our security guard and helped run errands and also was often playing with our kids.

Epimaque was our driver, and we were in such capable hands.  These people were each SO KIND to our children and seemed to genuinely delight in them, and they made our time in Rwanda that much richer.  I cried when it was time to hug them all goodbye.



▪️Genocide Memorial: We did get the opportunity to visit the Genocide Memorial, which was a powerful experience, even the second time.  I wrote at length about it last time, but it should be noted how much that marks the country.  I am always amazed at the resilience and courage and forgiveness on display in Rwanda after such extreme tragedy.

▪️Being a Spectacle: It goes without saying that we stood out as a group.  🙈😂  One afternoon, we were in need of getting out of the house, and we decided to take a walk to get some cold drinks.  We ambled up the road a bit with our 8 kids mostly walking, sometimes being carried, along.  Once we made it to a shop, we turned into a display with people taking photos and videos, including us.  But, we got our cold Cokes and Sprites and got to see a little more of Rwandan life.




▪️Low Points: Obviously, with a bunch of children in tow, there were bound to be some tough moments.  Thankfully, these were mostly pretty minor, and I am still thanking the Lord for the hand of protection that he had on our group.  No one got seriously ill.  We did have some pretty bad nose bleeds from the twins, including one that spread blood all over the floor in a play land, and Violet did throw up as we were boarding our flight out of Kigali. The other low point was anytime a child had to take malaria medication.  For us, this was once a week, and for the Heads, it was once a day. 😱 Trying to get your child to understand that taking the medicine is better than getting malaria is a difficult task indeed.  It did get better by the end of the trip, but I am not sad that we don't do it all the time.

▪️Local Markets: It's always fascinating to me to shop in local markets and see what people's daily lives and foods look like.  We got to shop a couple of different times and also bought pineapple off the back of a bike on one occasion.  Joel said it looked like really good pineapple. 🍍 When asked what the tip off for "good pineapple" was, he said, "I just know." And that pineapple was 💯.  So good. Most pineapple in America is really only hoping to be Rwandan pineapple.

▪️Adoption Education: I was really curious about what it would be like to take our multi-cultural family on the road.  In Rwanda, adoption has not historically looked like what it looks like in the United States - often children that would be taken into the home would not be considered full family members.  Especially when we were in the airport, we were questioned about William and Violet and whether or not they were actually our children.  I didn't take offense at this, but it did make getting through security even more taxing.  One security guard asked me to explain it all to him and then thanked me when I did.  Interestingly, Joel and Annie said that people actually asked them if William and Violet were darker white people, because they are much lighter than Rwandan people.  It is fascinating to see how people are viewed differently throughout the world.

▪️Cultural Differences: Courtney and I got to spend a wonderful morning with Annie.  We talked about many things, but one of the things that was most fascinating to me was about appearances.  In Rwanda, women talk about gaining weight the same way we American women talk about losing weight.  They trade ideas and tell each other of stuff that works to be able to put on more kilos.  There is also a skin lightening industry there, and I got to explain that in America, we white women like to try to get our skin darker.  It was striking to see how beauty is perceived so differently based on what is valued and to realize how easy it is to be dissatisfied with whatever it is we have.

▪️Traveling with Friends: Having this adventure with dear friends is something I will never forget.  The Heads were fantastic travel buddies on every level, and we had so much fun!  It is a true gift to have friends that can run the spectrum of emotions and experiences with you and be able to laugh about it at the end of the day. 

▪️Traveling with 8 Kids: Though I am not in a hurry to book a huge international trip in the coming months with 8 children, I will definitely consider doing it again in the future.  These kids did so well so much of the time.  We asked a lot of them, driving literally from border to border of the country, keeping an intense schedule and going on not enough sleep.  There were hard times FOR SURE, but there were really good times to.  I will never forget having a Moana sing-a-long with all the kids knowing every word to the songs and being absolutely thrilled with it.  It was one of those moments where life felt so incredibly sweet, and I'm so grateful to have those memories.

I can't believe this trip has come and gone, and I'm so thankful for all that is represented for our family.  Thanks for reading along!