A "fan girl" moment, in other words...

Last Sunday, I had a total “fan girl” moment. Well, I guess now it’s more of a “fan woman” moment, as the object of my swooning was not a movie star or pop icon, but a Jesuit priest who bears a striking resemblance to Santa Clause. I got to meet Father Gregory Boyle. And even give him a side hug. In 2011, at the recommendation of a dear friend at our former church, I read Father Greg’s “Tattoos on the Heart” for the first time.  Through his 30-year work with gang members in Los Angeles, Father Greg has become something like the Grace Whisperer. Of “Tattoos…,” Richard Rohr says, “Sometimes we are allowed to see in our own lifetimes what we were supposed to see in the life and ministry of Jesus. Read, and let your life be changed!” I’m pretty down with that description.

I won’t recount to you how his powerful words  altered my life’s course, because that’s not what happened. Sometimes God works fast like that. But other times, as Father Greg describes in Chapter 11, God’s work is slow. I guess the first reading ignited a little spark in my spirit, and in spite of myself, it has been trying to shine brighter for the last 5 years. I re-read the book this year as part of a small group study at my church, squarely in the middle of waiting on our daughter. It was interesting to see which passages I had highlighted during my first reading few years ago. This time, entirely new passages emerged as life rafts (intentionally underlined rather than highlighted this time – we’ve all got quirks), each one centered on trusting in the slow work of God. I am betting that his phrase “slow work of God” was inspired by the earlier writings of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin:

“Above all, trust in the slow work of God. We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay. We would like to skip the intermediate stages. We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new. And yet it is the law of all progress that it is made by passing through some stages of instability – and it may take a very long time. Above all, trust in the slow work of God, our loving vine-dresser.”

Go ahead, Father Pierre.

This week has been another practice in leaning into the slow work of God. We were told the week prior that we would hear an update from our new agency regarding how to move forward during the week of August 28^th, but that didn’t stop us from secretly wishing word would come early. Because receiving news before we were expecting it has always been our experience in international adoption. Of course <insert eye roll emoji>. In God’s effort keep us from dwelling on the slow-ness of God’s work, we were delightfully gifted us with head lice (courtesy of Amelia), so I don’t want to complain too much about waiting around for the phone to ring. This week, though, that little light in my spirit sparked a new realization within me: Father Pierre and Father Greg are so right. If you look really hard, you can find grace in the intermediate stages too.

When we received our daughter’s referral last September, we were told that we could expect to bring her home in 6-9 months. Well, 6 months into waiting on an actual and specific little girl and not just sitting on a list taped to somebody’s filing cabinet, I was still FREAKING OUT. I think my mother was seriously worried about my mental health. All these international adoption books were starting to scare me. How would we manage? Would she and Amelia get along? How long could she be in preschool before starting real school? Real school is scary. Was Amelia going to freak out? Would she feel replaced? How were we going to divide up all the girl toys? Would we buy more toys? Different toys or the same? What if they didn’t want to share a room? Was “cocooning” going to be the death of our family? We don’t stay inside well. Is this going to be a total train wreck?

Surely this stream of consciousness is all normal? If not, kindly put a pin in it and save it for us to talk about way a long time from now.

Fast-forward several months. More slow work, more waiting. You know what? That slow work has done a number on my anxiety about her homecoming. Of course, I still recognize that things will be tough for a while when she comes home. Maybe even a long while. But the transition was initially tough when we brought J. Henry home, and tougher still when it was Amelia’s turn to cross our threshold for the first time. There will be a transition period. I totally accept that. But you know what? This slow work and waiting has given my heart time to long for my daughter. I mean really, deeply long for her. Down in my soul.  I have prayed (almost) every day since receiving her referral for our hearts to be bound to hers and for her heart to be prepared to receive our love. And all this time has allowed my heart to truly be bound to her even before knowing her. I don’t think I could have seen through the fog of anxiety clearly enough 6 months ago to be able to say that.

Now, the Wesleyan in me needs to come right out and say that I DO NOT believe God caused our adoption process to be a slow work so that I would be brought to a spirit of deep longing for my daughter. I DO NOT believe that God is keeping my daughter in an orphanage this long just so her adoptive mama can get her crap together and her heart in the right place. Rather, God’s redeeming seeps down into the ashes of our waiting so that nothing is wasted during this time. My heart – our hearts – are being changed during the wait.  

May the slow work of God press on as we await the day that our dear daughter who has been in our hearts will join us in our arms. And may it also continue in me.

This week, please be in prayer that:

1.     We will hear from our new agency during the first half of the week. I mean, we’re talking about slow work, not slooooooow work, right?

2.     Our case is in order and in good standing for an agency transfer

3.     MOWA and the orphanage will not request additional paperwork from us as a result of the agency change

4.     The agency change will not significantly delay our timeline for bringing our daughter home

In God’s Grace,

Kameron, Nathan, J. Henry, Amelia and our New Little Girl!

In the meantime...

Y’all, if waiting were an Olympic sport, all the qualifying participants would be parents adopting internationally. We continue to offer praise for another agency’s willingness to take on our case, but now we are back to waiting to see what paperwork the branch of the Ethiopian government that deals with adoption (MOWA) and the orphanage will require of us as a result of an agency transfer. We expect to receive word from the new agency sometime during the week of August 28^th. This will give the agency officials on the ground in Ethiopia time to collect all the information the agency needs to help us proceed.

We have received so much good news already from this new agency, and everyone has been so responsive, competent, compassionate, and proactive. After so many peaks and valleys, though, it’s becoming almost impossible to trust the good news - to trust that it will stick. To trust that bad news isn’t going to be on the other end of the next call. In the midst of all the good new, a worst-case-scenario can be mentioned in passing, and my mind perseverates on it for days. DAYS, y’all. All of the good news becomes white noise, while the mere possibility of the bad news rings through loud and clear.

As badly as I want to…Why can’t I quiet this down? Why are the worst-case scenarios rattling around in there so loudly? Why can’t I calm my spirit? Why can’t I just be a “good Christian” right now and not wrestle with trust?

For the sake of transparency, you should know I have, like, zero credible theological or spiritual training. I’ve never been to seminary or taken a formal course in theology or Bible. But I do have a Bible. And I do have a husband who has encouraged me to dig in to and cling to the Psalms so many times during our marriage that I finally got desperate and gave it a try. And, friends, the Psalms are AMAZING. They literally say what you can’t or won’t or don’t know how to. Take Psalm 43, for example.

Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause

against an ungodly people;

from those who are deceitful and unjust

deliver me!

For you are the God in whom I take refuge;

why have you cast me off?

Why must I walk about mournfully

because of the oppression of the enemy?

O send out your light and your truth;

let them lead me;

let them bring me to your holy hill

and to your dwelling.

Then I will go to the altar of God,

to God my exceeding joy;

and I will praise you with the harp,

O God, my God.

Why are you cast down, O my soul,

and why are you disquieted within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

my help and my God.

Now, I’m not actually at odds with an ungodly, deceitful, and unjust enemy. But I don’t have to take that literally. I am, however, at odds with paperwork, and waiting, and fear of the unknown and all of the other scary things that come with your adoption agency closing and you being at the mercy of another country’s government. That’s why I love this Psalm: God, I feel like you’ve left me to fend for myself and I don’t know where you are. Send out a light for me to follow, because I will do it. I will follow that light straight to where you want me to go. And when I get there, I will praise you. Really loudly.

In the meantime, though, you need to get a grip, Soul. Calm the heck down. Because God is near, and God will help, and I will praise him for it soon.

Sometimes, I have to read a Psalm aloud over and over, until my spirit is literally pulled out of a dark place and temporarily retrained to hope. And sometimes, it takes longer than it should to hope again, and I have to practically yell at my soul to stop being disquieted. But, eventually, my Soul find hope and rest.

For a few hours at least.

While we are waiting and Psalming, would you pray with us for a few things?

1.     Our case is in order and in good standing for an agency transfer

2.     MOWA and the orphanage will not request additional paperwork from us as a result of the agency change

3.     We will hear positive news from the new agency during the week of August 28^th

4.     The agency change will not significantly delay our timeline for bringing our daughter home

5.     Our daughter’s heart and mind and body will be guarded and protected in the meantime

Thank you for continuing to bear with us in prayer. May all of our disquieted souls find hope in God this day.

In God’s Grace,

Kameron, Nathan, J. Henry, Amelia and our New Little Girl!

Remembering Hope

In January 2013, Nathan and I were desperately trying to discern whether God was calling us to adopt. We had prayed for clarity and researched information for months. A few days after meeting with a local agency and learning about the process and financial commitments of international adoption, we received an honorarium for some work that I did. The first step to initiate the process was to complete an application and send it in along with a $250 application fee. How much was the honorarium? $250. Exactly.

“…but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.” Romans 4:20-21

Over the next year, we submitted the application, labored through the home study, agonized over the dossier, and joined the other hopeful families on the wait list. After a year on the wait list, we heard that Ethiopia was growing leery of international adoption. “Would we like to start all over from the beginning and switch to the China program?” they asked. Well, I’ll just tell ya, ain’t nobody got time for that. We rolled the dice and stayed put.

Fast forward to September 3^rd, 2015. Just another random Wednesday, but it finally came. The call. The referral call. Out of nowhere. A few minutes later we opened an email, and the most beautiful little girl was looking back at us from the screen. Our daughter.

“…but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”

Two months later, we discovered that one piece of information on two of our referral documents didn’t match, and it didn’t look like the result was going to be in our daughter’s favor. Well, it was. Crisis averted.

“…but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”

In November, we found out that our agency was closing. We were devastated. How would we continue on? A few weeks later, we learned that a reduced staff was going to maintain the agency in order to see our cases through. Every last one of them.

“…but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”

Time dragged on. Things were moving slowly for all families in process in Ethiopia due to governmental staff changes and turn-over. When we accepted her referral, we were told she would be home in 6-9 months. After praying boldly for some time, by June of this year, we were no longer praying to bring her home prior to the annual rainy season closure (August 5 – September 30), we were praying that our preliminary hearing would take place prior to the closure. Three weeks ago, right before closure, we received word that our preliminary hearing had taken place. As this is the last stop before a court date, we sensed that we had been holding our breath for months and could finally exhale.

“…but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”

Exactly a week later, we received a phone call and word of the most significant, discouraging development yet: our agency was shutting down completely – they were out of compliance – effective pretty much immediately, and there was no clear plan forward. I can’t express to you the paralyzing, pervasive fear that seeped into every corner of my brain. I lamented using the psalms, because I didn’t have any words left of my own. I grasped for hope but I honestly couldn’t see God anywhere. I couldn’t even access God in my memory. I didn’t have any cards left to play; I was a passive participant in the downward spiral of our adoption story. And then I remembered…..

I am a MAMA, by God.

Nathan and I are the greatest advocates our children have or will ever have. And God designed it that way. After spending last weekend in prayer and asking God to send out light and truth to lead me (Psalm 43), I started making some calls on Monday morning. The first time I actually talked to someone who could help me, I was energized. So, I made some more calls. Nathan made calls. We sent emails. We got more answers. We found more people who were willing to share information and help. And in the deep recesses of my mind, memories of God’s promises and provisions began to resurface again during my morning devotions.

“…but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”

We have not walked this road alone over the past two weeks, though. I have found beautiful community with several special, special adoptive mamas who are all deep in the same trenches. This morning, all together, we began to step out of the fog and visualize a clear path forward to bring our daughter home. We received word that another agency operating in Ethiopia received clearance this morning to take our cases and guide us through the rest of the process. And just like that, God’s glory is being revealed all over again.

I don’t write this blog post to remind you of God’s history of provision throughout our adoption process. I’m not trying to outline evidence of God’s hand making the path straight again after every time something comes along to curve it sharply to the left or right, for you.

I needed to remind myself.

I needed to outline evidence of God glory being brought about for us. 

Because before she’s finally in our arms for the first time, the path will start curving back and forth again. Or something will be placed squarely in the middle of the path that, at first glance, there seems no way around. I’m sure of it.

But when I’m tempted to think that it could never possibly be made straight or clear again in the future, I have to remind myself to look to the past. Through God’s acts of provision, starting with that very first check for $250, God’s faithfulness hasn’t waivered.

Glory be to God. 

“…but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.”

Please continue pray for all five us during this journey.

In God’s Grace,

Kameron, Nathan, J. Henry, Amelia and our New Little Girl!