Yes, you English grammar snobs, I do know "bestest" is not proper, but heck, it's my blog and my birthday so I'll cry...err, misspell if I want to.
Ok, enough of that silliness, my birthday began in a wonderful manner. Allow me to explain (cue transition music).
It started like any other morning. I rose from my bed, groggy and grumpy, thanked the Lord for His goodness and faithfulness (which washed away a good measure of my bad attitude), and walked downstairs to exercise before reading and cooking breakfast. My workout finished, I proceeded upstairs to stare into my practically empty fridge and wonder aloud, "Why is there nothing to eat?" A usually untrue statement in America. Nevertheless, I managed to whip up a batch of pancakes and soon enough my children and I were sitting at the table enjoying flapjacks and good company.
Then the phone rang. My friend had called to wish me a happy day of my birth and we began our usual lengthy discourse. During this time, my two sons covertly transformed the living room into a festive dwelling few could deny as absolutely extraordinary--especially considering their ages (4 and 5). In a matter of fifteen minutes, the two had carried in the children's plastic picnic table from the deck, pulled a comforter from their bed to serve as a tablecloth, decorated the walls and furniture with easter eggs and stuffed animals, while providing entertainment with a puppet show, slight of hand magic trick, and my favorite board game "Mystery Mansion." To top that (I know, how can you?), the two scoured the house to find items from my childhood. They presented me a box overflowing with nostalgia: a cowgirl hat from my youth, a stuffed dog I had long ago named Cuddles, and my childhood detective kit (or all the pieces the two could find).
If my day would have decided to turned into a Grinch-style birthday, I doubt it would have phased me. The Lord used the wonder, joy and compassion of children to give me one of the bestest (shhh!) birthdays I have ever had.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Did I Misunderstand?
So, yesterday, I posted about my family's new direction--a whole new world, if you will. Well, I tell you what; if it's God's path for us, it sure has been bumpy.
I'll spare you from a retroactive explanation, to those maybe one or two of you who are reading. No need to tell the tale of where we have been regarding our journey thus far. But I will bring you up to speed by sharing my "today" story. Oh, yes--it's a daily dredge.
Over the weekend, God moved--big time. My husband, who had normally not been an extremely interactive individual when it came to conversing over the adoption option, became very open and outspoken. He said, "Ethopia, baby. And what about twins or siblings?" What the... never mind.
Excited as I was, I prayed in thanksgiving for this affirmation on our road to adoption. My husband recalled an article in our local paper about an adoption agency in Texas focusing on Ethopia.
Enter Monday morning, I called the agency. "We're sorry. No more applications are being taken for those seeking young children from Ethopia."
"Okay. Thank you."
What to do, what to do? Pray. So, with frustration dominating my mood, I chose to bow and pray. Thanksgiving parted my lips, even though my heart felt far from grateful. "Well," I contemplated, "there is another agency we've been looking at. Suppose I could give them a ring..."
As the story would have it, I dialed the toll-free number for a local agency who had a good reputation. We had family and friends who had been adopted through the organization.
"Hello, my name... I was wondering if you could tell me about your Ethiopia program?"
"What do you want to know?"
Hmmm...okay. "Well, I guess, fees and such. Also, if your program is still accepting applications. Others I have contacted are closed."
"Well, we're still open. What else do you want to know?"
This type of conversation continued between me and the director of this program for my area for about 5-10 minutes. After I hit "end" on the cell, I decided to send a comment to the program's information center. Here's what I wrote:
"Hello--I called and spoke with 'a' today about working with 'z.' I admit, I hung up disappointed in the way I had been treated. Maybe I had a case of the Mondays or maybe she did, but I am a Christian and believe 'z' represents the same--yet, the way 'a' spoke to me was abrupt, rude and I plain felt as though I had been bothering her by asking questions. When I inquired if there is anything else I needed to know, she literally laughed, making me feel about an inch high. Her attitude and approach were unappreciated and I hope, if we decide to work further with 'z,' that this is not the case again."
Did I misunderstand? Are we not supposed to adopt? (Yes, I am easily discouraged...)
A silver lining appeared later today.
After speaking with three different agencies (that was just today), we ended up picking Bethany Christian Services. Not the one I would have chosen initially, but then again, it's not about me...is it?
I'll spare you from a retroactive explanation, to those maybe one or two of you who are reading. No need to tell the tale of where we have been regarding our journey thus far. But I will bring you up to speed by sharing my "today" story. Oh, yes--it's a daily dredge.
Over the weekend, God moved--big time. My husband, who had normally not been an extremely interactive individual when it came to conversing over the adoption option, became very open and outspoken. He said, "Ethopia, baby. And what about twins or siblings?" What the... never mind.
Excited as I was, I prayed in thanksgiving for this affirmation on our road to adoption. My husband recalled an article in our local paper about an adoption agency in Texas focusing on Ethopia.
Enter Monday morning, I called the agency. "We're sorry. No more applications are being taken for those seeking young children from Ethopia."
"Okay. Thank you."
What to do, what to do? Pray. So, with frustration dominating my mood, I chose to bow and pray. Thanksgiving parted my lips, even though my heart felt far from grateful. "Well," I contemplated, "there is another agency we've been looking at. Suppose I could give them a ring..."
As the story would have it, I dialed the toll-free number for a local agency who had a good reputation. We had family and friends who had been adopted through the organization.
"Hello, my name... I was wondering if you could tell me about your Ethiopia program?"
"What do you want to know?"
Hmmm...okay. "Well, I guess, fees and such. Also, if your program is still accepting applications. Others I have contacted are closed."
"Well, we're still open. What else do you want to know?"
This type of conversation continued between me and the director of this program for my area for about 5-10 minutes. After I hit "end" on the cell, I decided to send a comment to the program's information center. Here's what I wrote:
"Hello--I called and spoke with 'a' today about working with 'z.' I admit, I hung up disappointed in the way I had been treated. Maybe I had a case of the Mondays or maybe she did, but I am a Christian and believe 'z' represents the same--yet, the way 'a' spoke to me was abrupt, rude and I plain felt as though I had been bothering her by asking questions. When I inquired if there is anything else I needed to know, she literally laughed, making me feel about an inch high. Her attitude and approach were unappreciated and I hope, if we decide to work further with 'z,' that this is not the case again."
Did I misunderstand? Are we not supposed to adopt? (Yes, I am easily discouraged...)
A silver lining appeared later today.
After speaking with three different agencies (that was just today), we ended up picking Bethany Christian Services. Not the one I would have chosen initially, but then again, it's not about me...is it?
Sunday, October 17, 2010
A Whole New World
I am turning 30-years-old this coming Thursday. Yes. I am no longer in my twenties. Does this bother me? Not as much as I thought it would. But I definitely think my thirities will hold a fantastic new world. One with a surprising amount of reality, truth and light, while offering less of the antonyms associated with said trifecta.
As some may have realized, I am a follower of Jesus Christ. A follower, whom I pray, does not give Jesus a bad name. But knowing my downfalls and sinfulness despite full forgiveness through belief in His death and resurrection; I'm sure I am a poor ambassador at times for the "J" man.
This coming year, as I turn 30 and leave my twenties behind, I look forward to what the Lord has in store. "Look forward" is said lightly; God often throws twists, turns, trials and many difficult tests into the lives of those who long to sit at His feet. Though I often find my mind wandering when He desires my full attention, I do (in my broken way) desire to rest in His teachings. "Come to me all you who are weary and heaven-laden and I will give you rest..." Jesus goes on to explain that we can exchange the burden of the world for His yoke (teaching). He swears it is light and does not work us to the bone. Do I believe this? Yes. I have experienced this. Christ's "yoke" requires no work on our part in light of eternal salvation; He has completed the task, run the race, fought the fight. And He did not do so for selfish gain. No. He did so for the benefit of the elect--all those who come to faith in Jesus Christ are sealed until the day of salvation in the Father's hand. We are forgiven, redeemed, saved.
One truth Christ's yoke has attempted to etch onto my heart: the importance of prayer. I have sat at His feet and asked for things and yet never received. Why? Because I ask with wrong motives so that I may spend it on myself. Lately, the subject at hand: children.
Having endured two back-to-back 12 week miscarriages (complete with DNC's) I found myself demanding things of God. And all I received in return was silence. That made me confused and hurt. But God was not silent--He was just waiting, whispering, willing His onto this Earth. My hands held the task of patience, full submission and utter trust.
Well, I haven't even turned 30 yet and I forsee a wonderful life-changing event coming my way: Adoption.
My husband and I have put the subject at the foot of the cross and it seems the Lord is moving us in that direction. My sarcastic human side wants to scream, "Finally!" Yet, God is: never late, never early, but always on time. I have no idea what this journey toward/into adoption will look like. But I do know my God (the one and only God) is good and great. I find rest for my weary bones only in Him.
And that, my friends, is the beginning of my whole new world.
So long twenties.
Enter the thirties.
As some may have realized, I am a follower of Jesus Christ. A follower, whom I pray, does not give Jesus a bad name. But knowing my downfalls and sinfulness despite full forgiveness through belief in His death and resurrection; I'm sure I am a poor ambassador at times for the "J" man.
This coming year, as I turn 30 and leave my twenties behind, I look forward to what the Lord has in store. "Look forward" is said lightly; God often throws twists, turns, trials and many difficult tests into the lives of those who long to sit at His feet. Though I often find my mind wandering when He desires my full attention, I do (in my broken way) desire to rest in His teachings. "Come to me all you who are weary and heaven-laden and I will give you rest..." Jesus goes on to explain that we can exchange the burden of the world for His yoke (teaching). He swears it is light and does not work us to the bone. Do I believe this? Yes. I have experienced this. Christ's "yoke" requires no work on our part in light of eternal salvation; He has completed the task, run the race, fought the fight. And He did not do so for selfish gain. No. He did so for the benefit of the elect--all those who come to faith in Jesus Christ are sealed until the day of salvation in the Father's hand. We are forgiven, redeemed, saved.
One truth Christ's yoke has attempted to etch onto my heart: the importance of prayer. I have sat at His feet and asked for things and yet never received. Why? Because I ask with wrong motives so that I may spend it on myself. Lately, the subject at hand: children.
Having endured two back-to-back 12 week miscarriages (complete with DNC's) I found myself demanding things of God. And all I received in return was silence. That made me confused and hurt. But God was not silent--He was just waiting, whispering, willing His onto this Earth. My hands held the task of patience, full submission and utter trust.
Well, I haven't even turned 30 yet and I forsee a wonderful life-changing event coming my way: Adoption.
My husband and I have put the subject at the foot of the cross and it seems the Lord is moving us in that direction. My sarcastic human side wants to scream, "Finally!" Yet, God is: never late, never early, but always on time. I have no idea what this journey toward/into adoption will look like. But I do know my God (the one and only God) is good and great. I find rest for my weary bones only in Him.
And that, my friends, is the beginning of my whole new world.
So long twenties.
Enter the thirties.
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