Trust and Obey

Obedience is the theme weaving through my life now. God reminds me as the seasons change; the way the leaves begin their duty of turning, changing, and falling. He whispers to me as the sun sets and brilliant colors interplay with light until darkness swallows them away to rest. All of nature obediently follows the path the Lord has set for them.

Yet, in His goodness, God gives man freedom of choice.

Who are we that we should entertain thoughts that our ways are higher than His? Yet, when we cease to immediately obey, isn't that what we do?

Adoption was my highest form of obedience. When God called us to adopt ten years ago, He spoke to my husband and me in supernatural ways that only He can do. We knew without a doubt what God was telling us...asking us to do. Our understanding of His will and our obedience to it has been an extreme blessing that has transformed so many areas in my life. Like a pebble thrown into a body of water, the effects have reached far and wide.

Now He has chosen us for adoption again. But, just as no child is the same, no person is the same, no pregnancy is the same, no adoption story is the same. He is calling our hearts to a little girl who has spent most of her eight years in an orphanage among "the least of these." Her special need will be addressed with surgery when she comes home to her forever family, so in the midst of transition and so many new and scary things to her, she will also have to deal with many medical visits and hospitalizations.

These issues are bigger than my husband or me. They are not too big for God. He created her. He created us. He knew His plan long before any of us were born.  His ways are higher than ours. His ways are perfect as He develops us...not be become flawless, but more perfectly like Him as we are transformed daily into more of who He created us to be.

Transformation isn't pretty. Nor is it easy. But just as the caterpillar undergoes a radical shift from a wormlike larvae to a gorgeous and delicate work of art and grace, He is reworking us with every request for obedience.

Resource Review: Forever Families - God's Gift of Adoption

Christmas is a time for many families to reunite with their extended family, to reminisce, share the laughter, exchange gifts, and spread the love. Many times during these events, your adoptive children start asking lots of questions, such as, "Mom, how come I'm the only one with blonde hair, all the other people have dark hair?" or "Dad, why is my skin so much darker than everyone else in our family?" or "Why did you adopt me, did my mom not love me?"        
                                                                                            

Forever Families....God's Gift of Adoption by Natalie Sutyak, did an amazing job taking the child's focus off the "Why" and "How come" to the truthful fact of God's plan. Natalie explains that God created us all different; different hair, different colored skin, and even different languages, yet, He made us all the same in our hearts. No matter where we were born or where we came from, we are where we are supposed to be..... together, as a family. Natalie does a beautiful job helping the child realize that, "God picked you out especially for your mommy and daddy and picked your mommy and daddy especially for you." Even though we may have spoken different languages and had to learn to speak differently, LOVE is the same in any language. God created each one of us, loves us, and knows what's best for us. Therefore, we are now with our forever family!

December Give-Away Time!

This months giveaway is brought to you by

Jenny Madsen, Independent Consultant for Mary & Martha. 

A little about Mary & Martha:

MARY & MARTHA ARE OUR FOUNDERS. Over 2,000 years ago they began serving in their home. They learned through their experiences that having people in your home isn'’t about the act of entertaining, but it is the method by which we invite Guests into our homes to Love on Them. In fact, the greatest Guest felt so welcomed in their home, He was entertained there many times. This is where you enter the story. We are inviting you to join us. See your home transformed. Let us show you how easy it can be. We have created products and tips to give you the confidence that you can have people in your home without it being perfect, complex or routine; so you can focus on the main thing. The guests that enter into your homes.

A little about Jenny:

After dealing with infertility for 5 years, we realized that God was not going to provide us with a “traditional” family.  We were foster parents 2010 – 2012.  We received our son through foster care at birth and finalized his adoption 10 months later.  We have since been in the “hurry up and wait” process of a private adoption for the past two years, and in the process suffered a failed adoption.  We also recently reinstated our contract as foster parents again and are awaiting our first placement.

Enter to win a set of Faith Building Magnets

Each magnet has a letter and corresponding faith-building word and quote to creatively remind your child what God wants them to be.

Entering this giveaway is simple:

Go to our Joy in the Journey FB page.

Under the post about this giveaway share with us one way that you serve in your home. 

For a bonus entry, "like" Jenny's FB page:

Comment on the same post as mentioned above that you "liked".

Winner will be announced on Thursday, 9pm CST.

(Item will not be delivered in time for Christmas)

A Minute with Nikki - Her First Christmas

We’re working on a year home. December is month 11. In some ways it feels like much longer than 11 months, and in others, its gone by in a flash. Through it all, we’ve seen such incredible growth in this little lady. Growth in going from a size 6 when we got here to now wearing appropriately sized 10 pants. Growth in seeing glimmers of her being able to self-regulate when the plans go awry. Growth in seeing her deal with disappointments and taking criticisms better. Growth in making lasting peer friendships. Growth in eating a cheese stick (originally thought to be the most vile food products on the planet). Growth in manners, patience, maturity, caring for others…the list can go on, because, well, my daughter is amazing.

But the most glaring growth that we see in this child, as we are in the thick of the Advent season, is her spiritual growth. From such a pure and tender place, Yiyi started to explore her faith early on. Not because we pushed it, but rather gave it an air of mystery and intrigue.  For a child who thrives on those things it wasn’t a tough sell. It started small, a prayer here, a Jesus Storybook Bible story there, and then it just continued. What started out as simple questions “Who is that shu shu (man), mommy?” “Why is his head bleeding?” “What’s wrong with his hands?” changed to statements like (after a friend died) “That’s ok, now he’s going to be with Jesus until his family can get there. He’s no more hurting or sick.”

We originally thought the “Jesus is the reason for the season” Christmas pitch would be a hard sell.  When Yiyi came here, quickly the questions about “The Christmas Man” started. Although she never celebrated Christmas, Yiyi was knowledgeable about the whole Santa deal. She has much trepidation about strangers coming into our house, so quickly I spilled the beans about the truth of The Christmas Man as I promised her that nobody comes into our house without our permission to deliver presents or otherwise. The girl loves her presents, so she seemed un-phased that I was the total Santa Grinch. So long as she’s getting presents, they can get under the tree however they want to!

But then the Elf on the Shelf (ours is named Spider Man) came. With him, he brought a note that said he was coming to visit for a month because he is also a new follower of Jesus and wanted to learn more about Advent with Yiyi. Seemingly forgetting about my telling her Santa isn’t real, she took right to the magic of Spider Man the Elf. We light our Advent wreath candles before dinner each night and talk about what each candle means. She sticks with it and remembers better than I do that week 1 is the hope candle. Last night we found the little known movie “Nestor the Long-Eared Christmas Elf” and watched in horror as first Nestor’s mom died, but then is selected to be the donkey that a very pregnant Mary rode on to Bethlehem. Not surprisingly, Mary riding the donkey to Bethlehem is the part of the movie she remembered best and was talking about this morning. And we’ve broached the subject that Yiyi will only be getting three presents for Christmas, just like baby Jesus got. Surprisingly, she was totally ok with that. Then she set up the Nativity, perfectly, like she had done it 11 years previous, with absolutely no prompting or instruction. She totally gets it, 100% she’s down for it all. Down with Christmas, down with Jesus, and down with her new beliefs.

Once again, Little Miss has surprised us. She has declared Christmas is her favorite holiday, though we’re still two weeks out and she hasn’t seen one present. She loves the lights, music, fun, family, (and the hope of presents to come) but most of all, she loves it because she truly understands the meaning behind it all. That is not something my husband or I did. That, my friends, is what we call A Christmas Miracle.

Nikki has been working as an adoption social worker for the past 10 years.  The consummate single gal was married in 2012 and started an adoption process to adopt a 10-year-old with special needs from China soon after.  Nikki loves writing home studies in the Western Missouri area and preparing families for the realities of adoption.

Confessions of a Waiting Mommy: The Great Wait

Remember that time I was reading a scripture about waiting on the Lord while on stage at our first Advent service this past Sunday in front of hundreds of people and it didn’t hit me until exactly THAT moment that this season of waiting was so unbelievably powerful for me that I started crying and could barely even finish the sentence? Ahh yes. Just another typical “Maggie has no emotional control whatsoever” moment. Surely that’s a scientific symptom of adoption, right? I recently described it to someone like this – If at any regular moment in life your emotional state is at a 5, I basically start crying if it jumps anywhere above a 6 or below a 4. Happy about red holiday cups returning to Starbucks? I cry. Sad that my favorite character died on Walking Dead? Instant tears. Excited that my husband put Christmas lights on our house?  Hot mess.  I’m basically a ticking emotional time bomb.

I digress.

I’ve never taken Advent that seriously until this year. I think it’s because I never really had a grasp on waiting until this year. Yes, I’ve waited for an upcoming vacation, and I’ve waited for holidays, and I’ve waited for my food at a restaurant before (but let’s be real, this is why I go to Chick-fil-a. Seriously, do they have ninjas working in the kitchen or what? My food is ready before I even get my ketchup), but never in a way like this. The uncertainty of the future does not do well for my gotta-have-a-plan mind, but the beauty of what God is teaching me through it cannot be overlooked.

I was recently reading through Luke 1 and saw something that I’ve passed over multiple times before. In this chapter, Luke is telling of the pregnancies of Mary and Elizabeth and their time together before each of their babies were born. Elizabeth is welcoming Mary into her home and says the following statement,

“Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”

This hit me like a ton of bricks. Elizabeth doesn’t say “blessed is she who has already seen the fulfillment and because of that trusts that God knew what He was doing.” No. She says, “blessed is she who believed.” Mary has no clue what the heck God is doing right now. She doesn’t understand the plan. She doesn’t know what this whole thing is going to play out to be. BUT she knew what God had spoken to her, and she trusted Him based on His word.

As a Jew, she was told there would be a Messiah.

As a pregnant teenager, she was told there would be a baby that makes the difficult journey worth it.

As a daughter of the King, she was told there would be redemption.

She didn’t demand proof. She didn’t ask to see the plan laid out in front of her. She simply said, “Let it be to me according to your word.”

Whatever you’re waiting for this Advent season, remember this:

The Lord has spoken. He promises hope. He promises peace. He promises joy. He promises love.

Blessed is she who believes there will be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.

My Story

We’ve all heard the story.  Boy meets girl, they fall madly in love, get married, buy a beautiful home (with a white picket fence, of course), get a dog, an SUV, and have exactly 2.5 kids.  Right?  Wrong.  Actually, I should say those things do and have happened; however, the person who came up with this blueprint for a happy life conveniently left out any kind of timeline.  So, please allow me to share ours…

Jason and I were nearing our mid-30s when we got married, so we decided to start our family right away.  Now, my husband (and anyone else on planet Earth who knows me) will tell you that patience is not my strong suit.  So, when I wasn’t pregnant within the first three months, I was a little disappointed.  Each month that passed without a positive pregnancy test (I seriously could’ve bought Isaac’s first car with the money I spent on those things!) gave me less disappointment than the previous month, and I found myself growing more worried than anything.  We tried to shake off our concerns, but after a year of trying, we decided to discuss it with my OB-GYN.  She gave us some really good info, and also ordered some tests for both of us.  I can’t speak for other women who have faced fertility issues, but I think it’s something you can feel in your bones, and know something isn’t right.  That sense of dread was quickly becoming a panic in the pit of my stomach, and every day it grew inside of me.  I’ll never forget the day we got our results.  Our prognosis was very poor, and we were told it was unlikely we would ever conceive.

We have never discussed our exact fertility issue with anyone, other than our doctors.  Jason and I decided early on that we never wanted the other to feel guilty, or at fault, should we find out that we were unable to conceive.  So, we’ve always kept that information between the two of us.  You’d be surprised at how many people are willing to ask you personal questions, more than once, and then act annoyed when you politely tell them it’s none of their business.  After several long conversations, and lots of praying, we decided to move forward with IVF.  Up until this time, I knew very little about fertility treatments.  I come from a long line of Fertile Myrtles, so I never gave it a second thought.  Let me tell you – it’s physically, emotionally, and financially grueling.  It’s also not something a lot of people are comfortable talking about.  I wish I had $1 for every time someone gave me the “I think it’s morally wrong.” speech, the “You’re going to hell.” look, or the snide “Maybe you’re not meant to be a mother.” comments.  Of course, those always came from people who had three kids.  So, I would tell those people to look at their own children, think about how much they love them, then try to image what they would be willing to do in order to have their kids.  Needless to say, those conversations never lasted very long.

Our first round of IVF was cancelled right before we went to retrieval.  I was devastated, because this meant we had to start over – injections, medicine, visits, labs, money…everything.  It was around this time that my prayers also began to change.  Up until this point, I prayed for God to allow us to get pregnant.  I begged God to allow me to carry our child, to feel him kicking in the middle of the night, and for him to have his Daddy’s beautiful brown eyes.  Then, something changed.  I began to pray and ask God to give us a family, regardless of how we came together.  I knew in my heart, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was meant to be someone’s mother.  So, we made it through our second round of IVF, went to retrieval, surgery, and waited.  On June 18, 2012, I received a call from our fertility doctor.  My blood work was negative.  There was no baby.  I remember sitting on our couch, staring out the window, feeling so alone.  I wondered how I was going to pick myself up and go on with life.  How was I going to find enough excuses to keep from having to go to another baby shower…ever?  How was I going to deal with the pure jealousy, while faking a smile, when a loved one announced their pregnancy?  How was I going to contain my rage when I saw another headline about drug-addicted parents who had beaten their infant to death?  How?  I didn’t have the answers.  All I knew was that I just received all of the proof I ever needed to know that we aren’t on a merit system with God.  Sinners receive just as many sweet, innocent babies as saints.  I was angry with God about it, and my heart was broken.  I wanted to know why.  Why me?

After the year and a half we had experienced, Jason and I decided we needed to take a break.  We explained to our family and friends that it was too painful to talk about, and we boarded a plane to NYC.  We just needed to get away.  When we returned home, we had to find a way to get on with our lives.  That’s exactly what we were doing when I got the call in July.  A family member wanted to know if we had ever considered adoption.  It was something we had talked about in passing, but we hadn’t looked in to it.  After paying thousands of dollars for fertility treatments, there was no way we could pay $30,000 for an agency and adoption expenses.  Add that to the two years we’d have to wait to be chosen by a birthmother (if we were chosen at all), and it just wasn’t possible.  I agreed to hear what my family member had to say, and what she said next sounded too good to be true.  She knew someone, who knew a woman who was expecting.  She didn’t know a lot about the situation, just that the birthparents couldn’t keep the baby.  I sat on the edge of my bed, scared to move, for what seemed like an eternity, before telling her I would have to talk to my husband and get back with her.  Jason was out of town, visiting a client, when I sent him the message that I needed him to call me.  It was an emergency.  When he called me back, I told him everything I had been told – and he had the exact reaction I had.  Silence. 

To say we were cynical and cautious would be a gross understatement.  Every time I allowed myself to be excited, the realist in me took over.  I was scared to think this was our happy ending.  I began to pray and asked God to protect our hearts.  If anything was going to go wrong, I wanted it to happen sooner, rather than later; however, I allowed myself to have a tiny amount of hope.  All I needed was faith the size of a mustard seed, right?  So, I took a leap of faith and decided to call the birthmother – our birthmother.  The instant I heard her voice, I knew.  She was the answer to our prayers.  This lady we knew nothing about was going to change our lives. 

Her pregnancy was unplanned.  She and the birthfather had another child who was only 16 months older than the child she was carrying.  They weren’t in a stable relationship, and there was no way they could keep and raise this unborn child.  She was in denial about the whole situation, and had received no prenatal care.  She didn’t know how far along she was, her due date, or the gender of the baby.  Nothing.  When Jason and I decided to take that leap of faith, we had no idea how far we’d have to jump.  But, we were in this for the long haul.  We asked that she see a doctor, to make sure the baby was healthy.  I went with her and heard the heartbeat.  Unfortunately, the doctor was called to the hospital for a delivery, and we were unable to have an ultrasound.  Our birthmother rescheduled her ultrasound, and we left.  We still had no idea if the baby was a boy or a girl, but it didn’t matter.  We knew that was our child.

Saturday, September 29, 2012, we were on our way to KY.  Our birthmother’s ultrasound was scheduled for Monday, so we decided to drive up early and visit with family.  We were on the interstate, between Clarksville and Hopkinsville, when I got the text – “My water just broke.”    As we sped to the hospital, there were so many things going thru my mind.  We didn’t have a baby bed.  We didn’t even have a car seat.  Our home study wasn’t complete.  Our adoption attorney had yet to complete the birthparents’ interviews.  Jason and I literally left home, a childless couple, taking a quick trip for a family visit…and we would be returning home as a family of three.  It was hard to wrap my mind around it.

When we arrived at the hospital, we visited with our birthmother, and then talked to her doctor.  They sent her down for an ultrasound, and she asked us to go with her.  It was so scary to hear them tell her that she was only 31 weeks.  That fear was momentarily forgotten when we heard those three words: “It’s a boy.”  I’ll never forget the look on my husband’s face when he realized we were having a son.  Still, as happy as we were, I was painfully aware that our joy came at a deep emotional cost to someone else.  We walked back to our birthmother’s room, got her settled for the night, and then drove home to get some sleep.  At 5:00 a.m. the next morning, a nurse called and told us we needed to get to the hospital.  She was in full labor, and our son was about to make his entrance into this crazy world.  Our birthmother told me she knew I would never be in a delivery room, giving birth to a child.  So, she asked me to be with her when our son was born.  A little after 7:00 a.m., Isaac screamed and kicked his way into the world.  I watched him take his first breath, and I sobbed as I cut the cord.  We would spend the next five weeks with him in the NICU, as he grew stronger.  Seven weeks after he was born, we finally brought him home to TN.

It’s been a little over two years, and our 3lb 7oz baby has grown into a 30lb, 3ft tall, blonde-haired, brown-eyed, beautiful boy.  I send our birthmother emails and pictures of Isaac.  It was a promise I made to her, and I’ve kept it.  I want her to see how happy he is, and how much he’s growing and thriving.  She changed our lives, and I want her to know that I will always love and be grateful for her.  After all, she made me a mother.

I think back to the beginning of our journey, and the pain I felt.  I remember grieving  the fact that our child would never have my husband’s wonderful qualities.  I now realize how naïve I was.  My husband is the most kind, loyal, and dedicated person I know.  He works so hard for our family, and I love watching him with our son.  Their bond is unbreakable.  I have realized that he’s already passing these qualities on to Isaac.  These aren’t things you’re just born with.  These things are taught and instilled.

Isaac may not know what my heart sounds like from the inside, but he’s heard it hundreds of times, as he lays his sleepy head on my chest, and I rock him to sleep.  I never felt him kicking my tummy in the middle of the night, but I’ve felt him kick me as he crawls onto the couch, snuggles up, and watches Doc McStuffins.  Oh, and did I mention that he has beautiful brown eyes, like his Daddy?