Journey with Jesus

I was asked to do a mid-week Lenten service talk.  I stopped breathing, and tried frantically to find an excuse as to why I couldn't possible do that.  I didn't think that fear was a great answer.  Coming up empty in the excuse department and wondering if it's even allowed to give excuses to your pastor I said yes, because really how bad could it be?  Within minutes of hanging up the phone I had a 100 different scenario's of how bad it could actually be.  I decided to channel my inner adult and well that lasted a day. So instead I just ignored the fact that in a month's time I would have to stand in front of a group (hopefully a small, small group) of people and speak.  That was much more successful and I managed to  not think about it until the week before.  Then I had a mini panic attack and then I wrote and practiced my calm breathing exercises.  I realized that for as much as I hate procrastinating I actually write quite well when it's down to the wire.    After sending it to a couple of people to proof I then realized that perhaps I should practice it so that when I actually stood in front of that church I would perhaps be able to speak it without stuttering or staring down at a paper or passing out.  Pretty confident at that point that any or all of those things could happen. 
One night as I was reciting the  words I planned to speak, in my head my youngest stared at me and finally asked "What? are you doing?" 
 "Oh" i said "I'm practicing my talk I am giving in church in two days"  
"Soooooo"  she says "you plan to just stand in the front of the church and stare?" 
yes, my dear child that might just be all I accomplish. 
Public speaking is not my thing.  Never has been.  I would be fake sick on days I had to give speeches in class.  I have avoided it for most of my life.  I am simply happiest in the back of the room, observing.  A few times I have had to step in front of a group and share some words. No, it never actually gets easier the more I did it. 
Surprisingly the day of my talk I wasn't very nervous.  I had chatted with God and said " I trust that if you put this opportunity in my path, you have a reason for it, and I also trust your reason isn't to make me look like a fool" 

I can't tell you how many people were there, it was a bit more than the small amount I had hoped for.  I went into a bit of an auto pilot mode and just spoke the words that I had written in my last minute fashion.  I didn't pass out, or throw up, so there is that.
what did I share?  I spoke about our journey to adoptiong, the first time.  Where we added three small wonders into our family and throughout that journey I learned that God is always there, every step of the way.

here is the orginal I wrote, and followed somewhat closely the day I spoke:

If you asked me to describe my faith it would be as a quiet, steady presence in my life. Unchanging. Unquestioned. Just a thread quietly woven into the fabric of my life.  From the first time, I heard the words “Jesus loves you” I accepted and believed it to be true.

It wasn’t until our family decided to travel the road to adoption that I discovered faith could be an active part of my life. It was then that I learned to journey with Jesus.

Adoption was not something I had given much thought to, it wasn’t a part of a 5 year, 10 year, or life plan.

The placement that changed the direction of our lives started out quite ordinary.  A phone call, a little information, and an arrival in a few hours.  All normal for us.

Within hours I knew this placement was anything but ordinary.  If you had asked me beforehand if I knew what Shaken Baby Syndrome was I would have confidently replied yes, of course.  I had taken the classes, watched the videos, participated in the trainings.  I learned quickly that I knew nothing at all. When I turned to Google for more answers to the endless questions I now had, I stopped breathing.  Those answers were terrifying, filled with little hope.  As I held that baby the first night praying I wouldn’t injure her more with my ignorance. What I did know was

she had a traumatic brain injury,

she was medically fragile,

she had permanent brain damage. 

I was completely overwhelmed.

Within a few months, a conversation with their case manager included words I had never heard in any of our placements.  Termination of parental rights. Family search. Adoption. At the end of that conversation I said “we will adopt if it goes to that point.” The silence that followed told me I had surprised both of us.

I then realized that I would need to talk to Kevin about this decision I had just made.  It is most telling that before I even completed my explanation he interrupted and said “I hope you said we would adopt” We had never in our life had a conversation about adoption.

9 months later another phone call this time with the question... we have a baby, a sibling to the two already in your care…would we take her? What about adopting? My heart answered before my brain had time to analyze those words with a yes, of course we would take her.

There we were in our forties at a point in our life that we were almost done raising children and we had just decided to adopt 3 small children, one medically fragile and another a newborn.

It was in this time that I stopped praying.

At least in the manner I had been taught, head bowed, hands folded, brain clear and focused.   Instead my prayers become conversations with God at all hours of the day and night.  At times, they were lengthy. At others there were no words at all, only tears, at others they were a few words. Always there were questions.  Rarely was my mind clear or focused.

Ideally my organized brain would have appreciated an answer from God to come in the form of a detailed list, with guidelines to follow. Of course, that didn’t happen.

God’s answers often came in unexpected forms…

A phone call from a family member that distracted or made me laugh.

A conversation with a stranger who upon hearing we were in the process of adopting shared her adoption story

In the milestones achieved by a child who left doctors and specialists speechless by things she was accomplishing, things she was never supposed to be able to do.

In the quiet presence of a friend who sat with you when you couldn’t form the questions in your head because you were so afraid of the answers, and as your tears fell so did theirs.

In a small baby held close, whose steady breathing calmed your worried heart and for that tiny space of time there was peace.

As our adoption journey continued we learned:

Adoption is a roller coaster of emotions. You will feel joy and fear, hope and disappointment often at the same time.

There is paperwork, a lot of paperwork.

You will wait weeks, months, years for the process to be finalized.

There are court proceedings, 90 day reviews, mediation, trials.  We reached a place where we were as comfortable in a courtroom as we were in our living room.

Every time we entered the courthouse it was with the understanding that we could leave to go home to pack their bags, such was the nature of this process.

So many unknowns

So much uncertainty.

The one constant throughout this journey was we weren’t alone. God walked with us every step of the way.

We were on day three of what had been a very difficult trial, we were at a low point, our thoughts were heavy our hearts scared.  We pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse. Neither one of us wanted to enter that building so there we sat staring unseeing out the window. Quietly kevin said “you always say God brings kids to us for a reason” and I looked at him wondering what does this have to do with anything.  Then he said “I believe God brought these kids to us for a reason, and if they end up leaving I believe God will get us through that too.”  That simple reminder gave us the strength to walk into the courthouse and face whatever happened.

Eventually we received word that we would be able to adopt. Once again, we learned that our time and court time were nowhere near each other. 

And then one day, 4 years, 4 months, and 3 days after we first started this adoption journey we once again pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse. I watched as family spilled out of cars, and watched those three little ones running up the stairs to the courthouse.  As we entered one stopped and stared her eyes filled with amazement as she looked at her surroundings.  “It’s so beautiful” she whispered.

I couldn’t help but remember the countless hours I had spent inside these walls filled with uncertainty as decisions were made as to what direction their lives would go.  They had never been inside the courthouse, they never had to experience the uncertainty, the unknown that had defined much of their early years.  Instead of fear their first visit to the courthouse was a joy filled celebration.  God walked with us that day too, in every smile, or look of wonder, in the laughter and the tears.

Today my faith is not a quiet presence in my life, it is active and constantly changing.  It is full of questions, sometimes it’s messy and at times it’s beautiful. But always its filled with the understanding that I’m not alone on my journey through life. Jesus is always walking right beside me.

quite relieved the photo above didn't show how terrified I truly felt.

Sent from my Verizon, Samsung Galaxy smartphone