Faithful Friends. Especially Women.

***Since I have been busy with school, my blog has been neglected. I found an old draft I had never posted, written two days before Lili's birth. Sweet Lili. In remembering her, I will remember some precious things God brought out of the experience.***

Well, the baby is not here yet. I have two more nights until the baby comes. And no matter how exhausted I am, once I get in bed my mind starts racing.

Tonight it was racing with gratitude for all of you who have walked along side of us. In adoption, yes, but more than that, just in life. Some of you have walked a marathon with us, some of you have just walked around the block with us. But you have been a part of our lives and let us be a part of yours.

And tonight I was especially grateful for women as we enter this time of new, unknown territory. Neither of our families will be able to come join us for the first week or so when we get home from the hospital. I am sure people who have that kind of help are still terrified. I must admit I am a little afraid of that part. But what I do have – what God has provided – is a group of strong women, each with their own experiences to bring to the table, each with love and care and support. I am afraid of failing. I am afraid I won’t know how to do this mom thing. I am afraid everyone else does but somehow I don’t.

But I have women in my life to tell me, with understanding, we all kinda feel that way. No one knows how this works but we walk forward, and ask for help, and make mistakes and learn how things work. Everyone is afraid at some point. I guess I would be scared if I wasn’t afraid.

So thank you, dear friends, who have offered to be with me in the hospital. Thank you, dear ladies, who have offered encouragement or to bring a meal or to babysit or to spend the night when the baby is home and take a late night shift. Thank you, sisters, who have offered anything that is needed and really meant it. Thank you, daughters of the King, who have offered up prayers and petitions and thanksgiving. Thank you, roomie, for watching George and talking and listening. Thank you for the ones who get excited with me, and the ones who get nervous with me, and the ones who understand with me, and the ones who fear with me, and the ones who pray with me, and the ones who hug comfort. 

Not everyone who has been a part of this process is a believer. But I think it is breath taking the way these lovely ladies – to me, today – have been representing the body of Christ. Each plays a role – some the same like two hands or two ears – but there are many different roles working together. All are vital and all important, though some are not as visible as others. We are united in purpose. That is a wonderful thing to behold. 

Ladies, as much as Joa has been there, and as much as I am thrilled to spend the rest of my life with him, I need you too. Now more than ever. And you have shown up. And you have been faithful. I am supported. 

The Journeys of Life

Several people have expressed fear or discouragement about adoption when they have looked at our adoption journey. That is certainly understandable. There have been seasons for us where we felt discouraged and hopeless in our adoption journey. 

But I would also love to share another perspective that God sometimes graces us with. It is a beautiful perspective where we are able to see not only the painful part of our journey, but also the tremendous redemption and reconciliation God has brought and is bringing through our journey. And although adoption is a big one for us (almost five years of waiting and three adoptions that never finalized), He has helped us see these same things in other painful journeys in our lives. I have been most shaped and most transformed by the hard things God has allowed into my life. He has taken me from an empty life of checklists and morality to a deepening walk with Him. He continues to woo me into active dependency on Him day by day, actually exercising faith and trust. He has given me direction and purpose for what He has specifically for my life. I have finally experienced His love for me, instead of just knowing of it. 

All those things (and many others) came about from the hard things of life, not the easy comfortable seasons. Honestly, if our adoption journey (as well as previous hard seasons in my life) would have gone the way I wanted, I would not have learned any of the things above. I would still be trying to walk in obedience to God without really giving Him my heart. I would still be struggling with all my might to be self-sufficient, controlling and manipulating to get what I think is best. (Well, God is still working on this area, but He has brought change already). I would still be living a coma-like life instead of pursuing the plans He has for me right now. I would still know His love intellectually, but feel that He is very far away. 

This year, as we see friends who adopt after waiting much less time, or friends having second, third and fourth babies, what has been so helpful to me is that we really all have our own God ordained journey. John 21: 20-22 has been a great encouragement to me. I am paraphrasing here, but Jesus basically says, worry about the journey I have for you, not the journey I have for someone else. I love that. It has been very helpful for me. I don't have to compare my journey with someone else, but walk in the journey God gives. That brings a lot of freedom. 

Lili Turned Five Months

Lili turned five months on Thursday (August 30^th). I did not consciously remember the date, though since I started at DTS I have cried for her each day I was there, so she definitely has been on my mind.

This morning, when we got up, our roommate, Joa and I had all had some form of dream about Lili. What I thought was interesting was that even though I had not consciously acknowledged she turned five months on Thursday, in my dream I told someone she just turned five months. When I woke up, I had to count but realized that was accurate.

My hardest thing with going back to school so far (you know, in my ONE week of school) is that the grief for Lili seems as fresh and in full force as it was when we first lost her. I have cried more tears over her the last week than I have the last two months.

This was not what I expected. This isn’t our first time with grief, or our first time losing a child we thought would be ours forever. I know it ebbs and flows and surprises you at all the unexpected times, and yet still I am surprised. As grateful as I am to be in school, I am also aware had it not been for God working through Lili, I would not be where I am in school. And that just makes me miss her more.

The hardest thing for me has been trying to hold back the tears in class, and just wishing someone would remember with me. Wishing just one more person would know my memories of this dear little girl, and that would help me not feel so alone. I got overwhelmed again today when I started my reading for Norman Human Growth, and some of the topics are infertility and adoption for next week. I took the step to email my teacher and share a bit, knowing that if she just knows, I won’t feel so alone.

Even though the grief has not been as fresh (until this week), I still pray for Lili regularly. I pray for her protection and her salvation. I pray that she would be a game changer for the Lord in her birth family; that God would use her spunk and determination to be one of the things that ultimately changes the path of her birth family’s eternal destination. I mean, come on, He has already used her greatly to change my life. She is going to be a little spitfire; I just continue to pray she is one who knows and loves God from an early age. 

Living Life

In many ways, having Lili for two months was one of the greatest gifts from God. And in many ways, losing Lili was also one of the greatest gifts from God. It was transformational for me.

We started our adoption journey in January 2008. It has been almost five long years. Every birthday that would pass, every Christmas, every Easter I would think, surely, next year by this time we will have a child in our homes. Surely.

And during that time, I gave up pursuing any dreams I had because I always wanted to be ready – at any moment – to be a stay at home mom. I didn’t make any huge commitments. I didn’t start more schooling. I actually forgot about any other dreams I might have. I just waited and waited for one of my big dreams of being a mom to come true. And as I waited, my life became a bit coma-like. 

Then Lili came and went. As I stepped back into my old life, the one I had before Lili, I realized I couldn't do it anymore. I had woken up from the non-life coma I was living. I realized in my waiting, I had really put everything on hold. Everything. I remembered again I had dreams hidden in my heart. I started looking for jobs but all the jobs I was interested in required I be an LPC (Licensed Professional Counselor). I got discouraged. I had all my crises together: identity, mid-life, job. My world seemed turned upside down and I didn’t know which way to go. I felt so lost. Of all the emotions that saturated my life after the loss of Lili, feeling very lost was one of the pervasive ones.

God was so tender and gracious to me. He took me by the hand and kept dropping things in my lap. Like a job possibility where my would-be boss hunted me down and asked me to consider this job instead of me finding and applying for it. I accepted this job and while I waited over a month to actually start the job, God used it in other ways. Like sneakily growing the desire to go back to school from a “I will if it is free through my job” to “I MUST go back to school; I will be going the wrong way if I don’t.” That is a big change, folks, from a girl who thought she would never go back to school. I am giddy even now as I wait for school to start in a few weeks. I submitted my application the day before the deadline and I was accepted into the school of my choice. God directed me to yet another job, a part time job where I actually now work, that will be paying monthly for Joa’s school bill, my school bill, and our new (to us) car payment so we will continue to live debt free (Thank You, God). I have already signed up for my first two classes in the fall at Dallas Theological Seminary in the counseling program. I can't wait for school to start. 

When I look back at all these things God did in my life, I am amazed. I feel a bit like a new Christian, when everything is going your way and things are easy. It’s a nice break from some of the tough, hard things we have gone through in the past couple years, but I know it won’t last. Regardless, I know God loves me and He will be faithful. And if we had never had (and lost) Lili, I will still be living in my non-life coma and probably finding it harder and harder to breath every day. He really used her as a catalyst for growth and change in so many areas of my life. I am so grateful for that and for His tender love towards us, even though sometimes it is very painful.

What does a dead phone, a dead car, and 635 equal?

I forget so quickly what God has already taught me.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to fully put into words what our experience with Lili meant to me. It was a time to fully love and care for this little girl, and that in itself was beautiful. But it was also a time where God loved and pursued me in a way I had never experienced before. Daily I saw what He provided truly was sufficient and learned I could trust His grace for each day. I thought I did, at least.

And then, last week, I was back to the old Connie. The one I really don’t like. The one that worries and frets so much she gives herself a headache. The one that thinks she is responsible for the world, and so if there is a problem, it must be beaten to death by analyzing it and coming up with her solution. Then the obvious next step is manipulating and controlling to get circumstances to align to what she thinks is best.

I have lived that way most of my life. I really hate it. But somehow it all snuck up on me again. We are looking at a house projects list that is too long (and too expensive). Both of us are going to be in school again (Yes!! I need to write another blog about that! I am going back to school in the fall!).  I started to worry about finances, always my tender spot. My phone keeps dying when it shouldn’t. And yesterday, after my phone died, my car died too. Right on 635. Ugh.

I want to be the new Connie again, the one God has done so much work in. I want to walk in faith and trust, not self-reliance, self-sufficiency and a worried heart. How easy it is to slip back into the old patterns. How easy it is for fear to spiral so quickly into this deep, dark pit I can’t seem to get out of. How hard it is to fully trust God. How much work it really does take to walk by faith. I don’t have to create the faith – God gives that to me as a gift – but I do have to choose to walk in it or not. And it is not an easy path.

Things have always been so much clearer for me written down. They get jumbled up in my head. So, here I am, confessing my failure, making clear what has really happened. It is not my circumstances; it is my choice of coping. Trying to be God by fighting for my own solutions instead of running to God asking for His solutions. 

He brought me back to reality yesterday when my car died on 635. Although my phone was dead, I was not by myself, but was accompanied by Joa and a friend. My car died in such a spot that Joa was able to push it over to the side of the road and nestle my car safely between a cluster of construction barrels. It happened yesterday, not going to or coming home from work, when I was by myself with my unreliable phone. Our dear friend who was riding with us graciously and patiently waited for help to arrive. My wonderful husband took good care of me, called some friends to pick up our friend and me, and waited in the heat for close to three hours before the tow truck arrived. Joa even remarked as we drove his car home from the shop, other than taking so much time, the car break down event really went very smoothly.

Through that situation, I could almost hear God whisper “See? I took care of everything you needed today. I do that every day, one day at a time. Trust me each day.”

So, what does a dead phone, a dead car and 635 equal? Well, gratefully, because of God’s grace, yesterday it equaled the perfect reminder and His peace to continue trusting Him day by day.

He Loves Me

God loves me.

This is a simple truth that has eluded me for years - all my Christian life, really. And now as I sit in Lili’s room typing this, I realize something has changed. After a million other preparations, God solidified in my heart what I longed to experience all along through our time with Lili. God really loves me.

I knew He loved me, intellectually. But I wasn’t sure He really liked me. And I don’t think I wanted to trust His love. I wanted to earn it. Trying to earn His love but never being able to rest in it was a very vicious cycle.

What happened? Was it that I finally opened my heart to believing His truth instead of lies? Was it that in opening my heart and choosing trust instead of fear He allowed me to see more clearly? Was it the love I felt for Lili that allowed me to finally glimpse how He feels about me, despite what I ever do, say or be? Was it when I started choosing gratefulness for all He has given that this knowledge grew in my heart? Maybe it was all of these things. Maybe it was none of these things. I know He was doing something, and I was open to what He was doing. And somewhere in that, He solidified His love for me in my heart. All I know is that as well as intellectually knowing His love, I feel and experience His love. I can rest in His love. 

And it is a wonderful thing to know. And experience.

1 John 4: 9-10, 15-19

“By this the love of God is revealed in us: that God sent his one and only Son into the world in order that we may live through him. In this is love: not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins…Whoever confesses that Jesus is the Son of God, God resides in him and he in God. And we have come to know and have believed the love that God has in us. God is love, and the one who resides in love resides in God, and God resides in him. By this love is perfected with us, so that we may have confidence in the day of judgment, because just as that one is, so also are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear, because fear includes punishment, and the one who is afraid has not been perfected in love. We love, because he first loved us.”

I still miss Lili...

I wrote this yesterday but didn't get it posted. Thankfully, today is a better day. I am sure my future days will be filled with both good and bad days. 

The chaos of grief inside is back again. This time, maybe for one of the first times since the loss of Lili, I notice it.

I did not notice it last week, but I noticed the aftermath it left when I didn’t take note of it. Too much food and too many sweets shoved in to fill the void, to calm the chaos, to soothe the soul did none of those things.

Internally, my emotional state has been much like a small child who hits their head hard. The first bit of time goes by with shock and silence. If you are a bystander watching, you may even think the child is okay. Then the blood curdling scream that had been building inside comes. You parents of young children know exactly what I am talking about.

Grief has been that way for me this time.  I have been grieving but suddenly it took a deeper, darker turn. The thing I love about grief is that it allows us to process a hurtful or harmful event and move on. Can you imagine how stuck we would all be without that gift from God? But the thing I hate about grief is that it can jumble all my thoughts and make me feel a bit crazy.

And this chaos of grief inside, if I just try to smother it with food or projects or cleaning or whatever, only gets worse. It only feeds the thoughts that seem to get a bit crazy. The chaos remains with words that need to be spoken. It has something to say about my situation and about how I am responding (or ignoring) what has been going on as a result of losing Lili.

I have only blogged when I was feeling good. And anything I have blogged has been true. God has been, is and will be faithful to sustain and comfort us. He is doing a new thing in my life as a direct result of our experience with Lili. I have comfort and hope. A price can’t be put on the good He brought out of this situation.

But we still paid a price for it all and we still hurt. As a friend pointed out, although it is great to share what God is doing, it is also okay to share how I am doing on the bad days. My typical response is to hide until I am doing well. Today I will try something different. And, hopefully, in giving voice to the grief and pain inside I call chaos, I will give it the voice it needs to actually fill the void, to calm the chaos, to soothe the soul. As much as anything in this life ever can.

I’ll just share a few thoughts. 

I still think of Lili. I still miss her. I still want to know if others think of her along with us. I watch the movie I watched the day we lost her, and I cry. I walk through the baby food aisle at Walmart and randomly check to see if her type of formula is there, and I can’t find it. And I cry. I see a little baby being held at church and I cry. I go to yoga and see a mom who has a two month old and I cry. I go to yoga and the instructor’s music track contains Hush, Little Baby and I cry. It was the only lullaby I knew and sang to Lili. The pang of grief goes through me when I use the alarm on my cell phone. When I glance at her now empty room. Sometimes when I am up late at night. A knife seems to shoot through me when I see her looking at me from the cover of her photo book.

I have good days, and I feel guilty that I don’t feel worse. I fear that means I didn’t love her if I don’t think of her every day. I have bad days when all I seem to do is cry, and I wonder when it will end. And I know it is all a bit crazily normal. That grief comes and goes in waves. That I loved her with all my heart but in the end it was not my choice where she grows up. And though I will carry her with me in my heart, she is not mine to keep. I wonder if for our next placement we will get a little boy who we will love and cherish and adore…but for now that is a part of me that says it will never be the same as Lili. And it won’t. Ever. No one can replace her. But that is not what God intends. And that doesn't mean I can't love again.

I know how this goes from our last adoption disruption, though each is probably different. I will remember her each month on the day she was born (the 30^th). I will probably remember and count the months on each 4^th, the day we lost her. I will grieve on her birthday each year. I started crying today as I thought how will we even be able to explain to our child/children who she was? Your sister? No, but we had hoped so.

There are three things that I have chosen to remember and live by on the bad days . One, that I can always grieve. Her loss was like death to us. It was a loss that cut deep, regardless of all the good God is doing through it. So I will never say it is not okay to grieve her. Two, I will remind myself I am not stuck in grief. My sad and bad days will not last forever, but it is important to continue to grieve as necessary. This is normal. Three, I will let it be a reminder to continue to pray for her. I can’t bring her back to our family. I can’t change my feelings of grief. There are just certain things I am stuck with in this situation. But I can pray. And I know that is one of the best ways to continue to love that dear little girl.

Thanks for sticking with me in this post. It was a bit disjointed. If you have memories or thoughts of Lili, would you mind sharing? I would love to know she is not forgotten by others as well.