Thursday, July 29, 2010
...or do you sometimes leap and pray that God has got your back?
I have seriously been going nuts analyzing and over-analyzing our plans to adopt. I mean, it's no secret that Dirt and I have problems with decision-making. If it takes us 3 years to buy chairs for our mudroom, it's bound to take us a solid 30 years to decide if/when/who to adopt.
But seriously, I feel like God planted adoption in our hearts years ago - before even Amaya was born and since then, I think we've let the weeds of fear cover that beautiful plant. If we had adopted after we attended our first adoption meeting, we'd be 6 years into raising our adopted child by now.
I keep asking God to give me permission to do something that He already called me to. I keep wanting Him to send a child to us, because then we wouldn't have to make any decisions, we'd just know it was God. I mean how are we suppose to know who to adopt? It's not like there's a 12 year old orphan boy who's name God has inscribed across my heart, and who happens to call me mom, has taken on our last name, and who sent me four emails today, telling me how much he loves and misses us, his family... or anything. Ahem.
I'm pretty sure that God just shakes his head when he looks down at us.
A while ago I heard Francis Chan mention how funny it is that Christians need to hear from God specifically when it comes to doing things that He's already asked us to do (via His Word), but we don't feel like we need to ask him to do things that we want to do. It's so true. I've been begging God to allow us to adopt, when His word explicitly tells us to care for orphans and to love others as we love ourselves. Yet I have no problem proceeding to buy a new car without any prayer or permission at all.
During this entire process, God keeps telling me to focus on Him. I feel like I'm looking into one of those black and white static puzzles, if I focus long enough, the picture just might become clear.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Avery is playing on a middle school summer basketball league
which is awesome...
except that the kids who are going into 8th grade are um...
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Kinda odd, considering that we live about 15 minutes from the beach.
We were invited to a co-worker's beach house at Nantasket Beach - which I had never heard of, let alone ever been to. It's just south of Boston on a tine penisula...or is it an island? I'm not sure.
The beach was regular, the water was warm, the company was excellent!
More photos here.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
I’ve been wanting to post about our kidless week, but there really isn’t much to say. It’s awesome. It’s like one super-long date night without the $10/hr charge at the end of the night. We love it. We love it so.
We always feel “pressure” to “do something” during kidless week, but we usually don’t really do anything –and we like it. We start the week by cleaning the house because then we can enjoy the fruits of our labor all week long. The house just stays clean. We love our quiet, clean house so much that we never really want to leave it.
What did we do?
- went to a PG-13 movie
- rented 3 R-rated movies
- went dinner 3 times
- mattress shopping
- took naps/relaxed
What didn’t we do?
- go to any middle school basketball games
- go to violin lessons
- drop off or pick up kids from babysitters/daycare
- remind little people about basic hygiene habits (brush teeth, shower, deodorant)
- wipe anyone else’s butt
Some other observations: The trash rarely needed emptying, the grocery store wasn’t a weekly necessity, and the dishes didn’t pile up in the sink (we didn’t even run the dishwasher once all week). There were no toys to trip over (or run over in the driveway), no fights to break up, no hair to comb, no whining (Dirt might beg to differ), and no sleep interruptions. We didn't use the word "share" once during the entire week, nor did we have to listen to kids tell on each other for any of the following offenses: touching, looking at, smiling at, singing, or any miscellaneous bothering.
The only real rule we have is that there is absolutely no crying during kidless week. That is just not allowed; we need one week of no crying so we can refresh ourselves for the 51 other weeks that include crying. This is the primary reason why the cat put a kink into kidless week this year. Fat Louie missed the kids so much that he just cried and cried. I might actually hate him now. By the end of the week, I think he literally bit me on the foot. Seriously, he was so starved for attention that he acted out. It didn’t work though, I have kids, I’m well-trained in reverse psychology.
We love kidless week, but we love our kids too, and there is nothing better than seeing them at the airport. The moment that they catch a glimpse of you, the smile, followed by an instantaneous sprint to you with open arms....it’s amazing. I think that’s how I’ll run to Jesus when I see him in Heaven.
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
I know Tom; I traveled with him to Ethiopia last year and have read two of his previous books and enjoyed them both very much. His first novel, Scared, was about orphans in Africa - something my heart beats for - so it was easy for me to want to read it - though still not an easy book to walk away from. Not by any means. But Priceless was different - I literally did not want to read it.
Priceless is about orphans too...and Tom was actually writing parts of it while we were in Ethiopia...so why was I not anxious to read it? Because I am selfish. I didn't want the heartache. I wanted to go on pretending not to know that the sex trade is real and impacts millions of children around the world - many of which are precious orphans.
They say that ignorance is bliss, and I wanted to remain blissfully ignorant. (God have mercy on me for my selfishness.)
Until a copy of the book showed up on my doorstop.
I read it over the course of a few nights, and I won't lie - I had nightmares. I have trouble saying it was a "good book" or that "I enjoyed reading it" - although it was good and I did enjoy the suspense and intrigue. It seems more fitting to say that it was an awful book - but one that needed to be written. Does that make any sense?
I just couldn't escape the reality of the situation in the book. By day I would receive updates and prayer requests from friends who were in India witnessing to girls in brothels, trapped in the sex trade, and by night I was in the middle of this "fictional" book. It was surreal and it made the horrors of the book come to life.
Please don't misunderstand this meandering of thoughts to mean that I would not recommend this book to others. I would (and already have). In fact, I would recommend this book to everyone. Tom is a brilliant storyteller and there is so much depth to this book, you won't want to put it down.