It’s 8am in my girl’s country right now, Monday morning. Everyone is just now waking up, except for those who went to bed hungry. For 5 more days, our caseworker is there. She is hopeful to have something significant happen. 5 more days for people I have never met to work on behalf of my family; 5 more days. The count-down begins.

*Spoiler alert* Transparent moment

It’s exhausting to be hopeful and let down so often. I’m not sure if just today was defeating, or the week in general. Not sure if it’s the weather (dear vacation, I miss you) the situation, or the fact that we can’t defend ourselves. I have no good answers.

Earlier this week I came to the realization that I had a pretty tight grip on this date. So, I let it go. It wasn’t a great night. Living in flux is something I’m a professional at. It seems our lives have been in flux more than the typical family. But this flux is a bit more challenging. There are no absolutes, there are no timelines, there are no complete answers.I love my girls so much; living without them seems pointless.

But I know it’s not. It’s not pointless.

I’m know there are many things I can learn during this time.

Correction; adoptive moms, there are a ton of things we can learn from this time.

The thing I am going to salvage from this time is my purpose right here right now. I’m searching for it. I’m working at it. I’m trying. I stepping out of my fear, social expectations, and stretching my strengths. I mean isn’t that what everyone does when they are emotionally drained?

Come on adoptive mamas, join me.

Count to ten.

Step out of the despair with me. Let’s wipe the muck off each other. Let’s embrace the pain and move forward. Let’s pray each other through.

We’ve got stuff to do. God’s got stuff to do. People we’ve never met have stuff to do, papers to sign. Let’s not be the ones holding up the process. Let’s believe in his timing. For real. Let’s run from jealousy. Let’s embrace each other with joy and grace. Let us be the hands and feet of Christ, to each other.

Because no one understands how we feel better than we do.

In the meantime, as we seek to encourage each other, let’s accomplish some dreams, realize some goals. Let’s deepen our knowledge and broaden our achievements.

Our families need us to. They need us to be dependent on the Lord, not on them. They need us to have quiet strength to exude grace. They need us to be patient. They need us to work hard. They need us to develop the gifts and strengths we’ve been given.

They need us to be better for them, whenever it is that they come home.

So, let’s stop trying to control the situation and trust our maker. Let’s be controlled by our principles not our emotions. Let’s pray. Let’s work. Let’s grow. Together.

What are you going to work on? What are you going to complete? Who are you going to be when your kids finally come home?



Set My Heart on You

All my life I’ve wanted to be wise.

Wise and in love with Jesus; fully dependent on him and him alone. I’ve made strides to be that person, but I never felt like I made substantial progress. I wasn’t using this time on Earth well. I have been inefficient with the days God had given me. I had so much to learn, I still have so much to learn. The more I learn, the more I don’t know.

About 2 years ago, when we filed paperwork for our first adoption, when made a commitment, told our families, and fronted thousands of dollars, I knew I was in for it. I knew that I would be a different person at the end of this journey then I was at the beginning.

I was ok with it.

Over the past 2 years the lessons I have learned have been tremendous and good. I have watched as God provided strength, wisdom, people, encouragement, joy, love, laughter, perseverance, energy, and family. Did I mention support?

God has made himself known in so many ways that feel good. Everything I mentioned above – feels good, is life giving; uplifting.

But God makes himself known in hard ways as well.

Here, in the waiting, I have never felt a more constant ache; almost a gnawing. It’s like I am always hungry for my girls, hungry for their affection and laughter, hungry to have them home, hungry to love them, hungry to be complete. I am always hungry and never satisfied.

Yet I have never been closer to Jesus.

Hungry for his Word, aching to understand it; striving to hide it in my heart; turning to it for comfort, singing it for peace, holding onto its promises. Not that he will grant me my desires, but that He will be with all of us no matter what.

I know that there are reasons for the wait that I may never know or understand. I know there are excuses presented that I will never believe or accept. But I also know that

Dependency on my father, is more important than delivery of my children.       

This is hard to type, and harder to voice. I want Jesus close to me more then I want my girls close to me. If we have to wait, so I can draw nearer to God, then please let us wait. This waiting is bitter, but I have never found such sweetness in the Lord than right now.

No matter when and even if you bring them home, I am thankful for this time. It’s been you and me. Actually, it’s been you carrying me. You uphold me with joy, peace, and kindness. I will be satisfied in your love and trusting in your knowledge, your power and your grace. I have set my heart on you. I have set my heart on all that you are. Thank you for carrying me. I will cling to the promise that you will never let me go.

Set My Heart – Vertical Church Band @verticalchband


Think about His Love

Sometimes I think about being on that boat.

An unapologetic scent of fish; seagulls flocking on the horizon. Mist of the water finding it’s way across the deck while the wind tangles my hair. Warmth from the sun, signs of life surround and hues of blue cascade on the open water.  It’s a beautiful thing, being a tiny speck on a grand ocean. It unlocks an appreciation for this beautiful world. Makes one feel small, almost a comfort of sorts.

Without proper warning a storm is upon me.  The wind has changed, demanding my respect and threatening my very breath. Sunlight has evaporated, and the blues turned dark, gray and cold. They thrash against the vessel in a tyranny of rage. Desperate to save myself but frozen in fright; I don’t know where to turn, what to do, or where to go. It seems that no one does. No one has answers. No one can help. Any attempts to salvage the ship and avoid ruin are in vain. A simple shore excursion has turned, without warning, into a violent and imminent death.

As fast as it came, it’s gone; without explanation; without effort; beyond my comprehension or understanding; not a moment too early or a moment too late. A calm has broken through the thunder and split the clouds. I can breath again. Surefooted, relived but alarmed, I squint in the unexpected glare.

And I’m reminded of his love.

Think about his love, Think about his goodness, Think about his grace, That’s brought us through. For as high as the Heavens above, So great is the measure of our Father’s love.

I can see his face, never threatened by the storm or alarmed by the winds. Instead he is kind, calm, and gentle, powerful and loving.

I know he knows better and bigger then I do. I know he loves better and bigger then I do. I know he does not see this as a challenge but instead an opportunity for him to be glorified. I know he is for my good.

When I take my eyes off of him, I fumble and fail. But when I look at him, and focus on him, I am reminded of his incomparable goodness. His perfect love. His unsurpassed knowledge. His limitless power. There is nothing I want more then to be focused on him, see him work in every detail and then give him all the glory.

So great is our God, that he allows no room for fear, doubt, or despair. He has gifted me with trust. He is sovereign and he is good.

God may I be totally satisified in you. Meditating on your grace, kindness, generosity and love. May this storm be a beacon for your glory. May this life be a platform for your name. May this family be a parallel to the Gospel.

May the name of Jesus be lifted up.