Work of Breathing

I'm typing with one hand because Jewel is sick, again. To clarify, we are all sick, but those tiny microbes weigh heavy on her lungs. I wouldn't venture to say I'm bored by any measure, but I am stranded, so I'm documenting some thoughts blurring in my head.

Sin is horrible. Why do I forget that? Why don't I hate it as God does? Instead, I chase it, and it chases me. And then, I get those small divine glimpses of the depravity of it all.

Jewel was tortured at a doctor appointment yesterday. It was necessary, but torture nonetheless. She never catches a break there, sometimes we wonder about some manifestation of PTSD from all the medical interventions.

Today I've stopped everything to watch many struggled breaths of Jewel's- shoulders heaving concurrently with small grunts as she expends extraordinary energy to just make it to the next breath. Each breath is a physically heavy reminder of generational sin. There it occurred to me she may never be "ok" by medical standards because of the circumstances of her birth. How I managed to not fully process that nugget of truth until today I am unsure. I guess we were so focused on simple SAFETY in her permanency plan we became were short-sighted. It doesn't change how I feel anyways, other than it's another thing I have to regularly lay down on the altar each time reminding myself NOT to pick that burden back up again.

And in this moment she looks up at me expectantly, singing and bobbing her head between those grunts and fits of coughing to approximate the alphabet song she hears in the background. Here in the filth of it all, he makes some things phenomenal; eleven clear ultrasounds, one beautiful MRI, the ABC's, kind words, wise practitioners, prayer warriors, silent servants, and two deep prominent dimples that frame her pearly whites with clockwork timing.

Tomorrow we have our first post-adoption visit, on our own accord. I love her birth mother, truly. But the act of fleshing out that love in this mire of sin we live in, and because of, and with each day? It's messy. So messy.

I guess the purpose is to bring me back to the Gospel all throughout this present vapor of time.

By His grace she's here in my arms. She's always safe in His will, though she may never be "well".

By His grace, she labors on, and together in His will she and I make it another day, barely, but bountifully.

By His grace, tomorrow I will have the strength to walk in that room and speak muttered, stumbling words that only He can use as salve to BOTH of our hearts.

By His grace, I will trudge along, often blindly clinging to Him, as minutes and days grow into years and decades. My glimpses of His tapestry of grace will broaden.

And it will be enough.

Yes, I managed to read a book.

Just finished reading this last week. I actually devoured it in about 5 hours.

Wow...ouch...convicting!
Hubby is finishing it up.

Here's a snippet:

"...And this is where we need to pause. Because we are starting to redefine Christianity. We are giving in to the dangerous temptation to take the Jesus of the Bible and twist him into a version of Jesus we are more comfortable with.
A nice, middle-class, American Jesus. A Jesus who doesn’t mind materialism and who would never call us to give away everything we have. A Jesus who would not expect us to forsake our closest relationships so that he receives all our affection. A Jesus who is fine with nominal devotion that does not infringe on our comforts, because, after all, he loves us just the way we are. A Jesus who wants us to be balanced, who wants us to avoid dangerous extremes, and who, for that matter, wants us to avoid danger altogether. A Jesus who brings us comfort and prosperity as we live out our Christian spin on the American dream.

But do you and I realize what we are doing at this point? We are molding Jesus into our image. He is beginning to look a lot like us because, after all, that is whom we are most comfortable with. And the danger now is that when we gather in our church buildings to sing and lift up our hands in worship, we may not actually be worshiping the Jesus of the Bible. Instead we may be worshiping ourselves.

Consider the cost when Christians ignore Jesus’ commands to sell their possessions and give to the poor and instead choose to spend their resources on better comforts, larger homes, nicer cars, and more stuff. Consider the cost when these Christians gather in churches and choose to spend millions of dollars on nice buildings to drive up to, cushioned chairs to sit in, and endless programs to enjoy for themselves. Consider the cost for the starving multitudes who sit outside the gate of contemporary Christian affluence."

A must read!

Not to brag or anything...

Hubby and I got 6 unadultered hours of alone time today! The stars finally aligned!

We had a big grown-up dinner at Olive Garden. We haven't eaten there since we dated. I had some super yummy steak gorgonzola that I'd love to show you a picture of it but I was to busy STUFFING it into my face.

Hubby also got to see the after-school crazies. I hope he pities me more now.

Speaking of school, that was kind of the reason that we went out to eat. We needed to sit down and hash out school plans for the kiddos next year. We want to homeschool. I was homeschooled some, and we feel like it will meet Eldest's needs best.

Jewel and Momma's Boy are doing well at school but every day it pricks me to drop them off for 7-8 long hours. I only get the rushed morning and the grouchy evening hours. This week I actually had an OT allude that maybe Jewel was calmer and happier and more integrated at school. Talk about bringing Momma Bear in me out.

In the end, we know we needed that babies in school this year to catch our breath and hash out some interim therapy issues but that it will consistently leave us uneasy to have them remain in care 40 hours a week when Mommy is at home.

But, truth be told, they are two very wild and crazy special needs toddlers. Who, in fact, find great pleasure in torturing each other and throwing some Academy Award caliber tantrums.

In my own power, this is a recipe for DISASTER. So $40 later, we have full bellies and no answers, but plenty of ideas. We may do it anyways, even at the risk of falling flat on our faces.

Kindergarten isn't that bad to repeat, right?

I kid, really. I think.

What's next Lord?

We survived the scream-fest. There was screaming, but thankfully, rarely in unison. I'm feeling about half-way recovered. I tried to talk myself in going to the gym today but I didn't want to be the gross hacking, snotty person on the treadmill. So, lots of catching up next week I suppose?

I let the kids have some good messy fun. Hubby couldn't believe I would let them do that. It was a good sensory experience.

So back to the title. "What's next, Lord?" Ha. Haha. I actually ask myself this, surrounded in the chaos and calamity of life with three little people. I'm a full blown glutton for punishment.

We know foster care is definitely on hold for a while. Mommy is not capable of any more booty-wiping at this point.

Yet, I keep getting overloaded with emails and questions about foster care and adoption on facebook, in Target, and with acquaintances. I'm beginning to think that maybe, for the season, I need to be a resource to those who are actively fostering or wanting to foster.

I'm excited to be attending this for inspiration (and relaxation) in February:

Idea Camp- Orphan Care

Those who know me well, know I don't sit and wait for anything well.

But life is full with all those small things: everyone needing meals and clean clothes and attention every day, multiple times a day. To add to it, we will soon be adding to the equation the mandate that Eldest must be educated in some form or fashion next year.

So, there is PLENTY. Though, I'm sure God has something brewing. I'm working to wait patiently while I'm wading in dirty socks.

On some random side note, some things I am LOVING right now:

Ester Havens - This is my single, creative self in some other life. I just can't convince Jake to become a gypsy with me. What gives?

147 Million Orphans- Beautiful gear! Beautiful organization! The founders daughter, Josie Love, is so stinking cute!

GLA Haiti- I've been a long time reader. I love Susan's posts as head nurse of the only NICU around that area of Haiti. We will be sending a crate of Jewel's medical equipment in the new year to them!

Adullam Youth Outreach- Dear friends of ours, great ministry!

Ok, toilet scrubbing and Christmas cards are calling my name. Hope you have a wonderful weekend!

The Pity Party

Ah yes, the infamous pity party.

I'm not the only woman who takes part in these, right?? Sometimes I can arise victoriously from it and sometimes I lay down and wallow.

Case in point is today: I'm sick, REALLY sick. Can't-go-far-without-rescue-inhaler-sick. I've been sick for 5 days; so the house is crumbling despite Hubby's best efforts. Tomorrow, I get to take all three kids to Children's for a four-hour scream fest in a 25 sq. ft room, whether sick or not.

Yes, I want to wallow. I climbed into my plush bed to watch E News, eat my lunch from Panera and catch a nap amidst my pile of used tissues. And I did just that for awhile. BUT, then my mother posted this on Facebook and I read it, and then I listend to this.

So I decided to do some Christmas shopping through World Vision International. Since as I look around my room at all the crap on the floor; I realize I don't really NEED much more Target has to offer.

As I'm thinking online and listening to David Platt, Mr. Platt starts speaking about Isaiah 3. Scary stuff I tell you...those poor Women of Zion. Yet, with my own rings, vests, sashes, ornaments, hair, and pride, have I forgotten whose truly needy?

So I read a bit more of one of my favorite blogs.

Cry Haiti


So for some perspective: You, me, and most everyone we cross paths with daily LIVE LIKE ROYALTY.

Me? I'm sitting in a bed worth years of income to a family in Africa.
My home? A mansion.
My closet? Full of "purple linen" and shoes that would have fed a child for a month. My pantry? Full and from afar.
My wallet? Also full.
My children? Each have clothes on their backs, superior medical care, and full bellies EVERY SINGLE DAY.



Our weakest child, a picture of health by world standards. Clothed, with fat to spare. If she was born in half of the other countries world-wide would not have lived a day. Praise God. He is good.


So, yes, I'm still pretty sick. But this is not cholera and I am not destitute. I probably should go pick up my antibiotics at the pharmacy now, however.

So Mom, from three hours away, you managed to give me an attitude adjustment. I need to count my blessings and carry on.

Hello? Is anyone out there?

I'm back from the dead. I can't believe it's been over 20 months since I last posted!

The past couple years in a nut-shell:

We didn't move 0ut of state! Just in time, Jake's employer offered him a job he felt was a great fit, and it has been!

We DID move to a new neighborhood. I tell you, it rivals the more traumatic experiences of my life! Nine months later, we are still not quite un-packed and settled.

Ms. Chubby-Cheeks* (see below post) came and left. We loved her dearly. We got a fun toddler for a month. It seemed like a good time to go to Disney World as a break from foster care.

While there, we got a call about a newborn left in a toliet to die. Of course, we wanted her! When the case worker realized we were in Flordia, she let us know that she would pick another family because she wanted to place her NOW. Ouch. Apparently you can't vacation if you want to adopt. And if your wondering, yes, I did cry at The Happiest Place on Earth following that phone call.

God had a better plan!

As we pulled up to our home, a fellow foster mom called me and said, "I have your baby Jewel*! She is a really sweetie!" Apparently our placement worker forgot to tell us we were assigned to a medically fragile preemie whom we expressed interest in months prior! This little bit was sick, sick, sick! She needed me- and I could see how all those days sitting with our Eldest* at Children's was for a purpose. SOMEBODY had to advocate for this little soul!

Somewhere along the journey we got a approached for another sweet preemie, this one being fast-tracked to adoption. And as crazy as we are, we took him too. Yes, you got it; two special needs babies 5 months apart. Straight chaos and beautiful love, I tell you.

Over 200 doctor and therapy appointments, staffings, court hearings and thousands of prayers later... they are OURS! As much as I LOVE the ladies at our local DHS, its a wonderful thing to say "my child" and make decisions in their absolute best interest.

Hopefully I will have some time to fomally introduce each of them soon. Right now, they are singing to me over the baby monitor. : )

(* Using pseudo-names for some measure of privacy)