It's so hard to believe that we have been home for three months. You would think that in three months time, we would have gotten ourselves back into a routine and caught up on all the undone stuff. Not true. Apparently, when you go from 3 to 6 kids, things get chaotic. So chaotic that neither Rod nor I have seen a television show since we got home. Not one. I haven't finished one book, finished a single to-do list (which I make every day), gotten to the bottom of the laundry pile, put away winter clothes, or gone through stacks of paperwork that have been on my desk for all three months. Every day is still an adventure and every night, we still collapse into bed and wonder where the day went. But not once have we gone to bed at night and questioned whether or not we were called to this life. God confirmed it to us in advance, and He is still confirming it to us. Once again, I struggle with the blog, because I want it to be honest and helpful and authentic. I don't want to gloss over the very difficult days, because some of them are doozies. On the other hand, I don't believe that the details of those difficult days are to be shared on the stinkin world wide web. Goodness knows I don't want MY less than attractive behaviors published for folks to read and talk about. So I won't do that to my kids. Somewhere in there, though, I long to tell the truth of adoption to encourage people to open their hearts and their homes to the fatherless as God impresses them to do so. When He fuels a passion in you for adoption, you can't ignore it. You can't not adopt. He strengthens you for days that you have read about, but cannot imagine living through. You can't stop thinking about all the others. You are drawn to the lists of pictures, the stories of your children's friends you met in the orphanage. Several times, Evan and Nick have asked Rod to tell some friends of ours who plan to adopt to please go to their orphanage in Ukraine and get their friend. He needs a home. And there are 143 million others like him. And it seems like you are always thinking that you could do more, give more, adopt more, tell more people. That's what happens when God rocks your world about orphans. It's so crazy to realize that this time last year - Easter weekend - our family of 5 was sitting in Taco Mac making this massive decision together to pursue adoption. At the time we had no idea who or how many or from where. We didn't know the process or the cost or the timetable. And we absolutely had no idea what was about to happen to our hearts.
Three months in, the most frequently asked question, by far, is "So how is everyone adjusting?" Rod and I have no idea how to answer that question. It depends on the day, really. Usually, we answer by saying "Most days are three steps forward and two steps back. Some days, it's the other way around." Everyone's English improves every single day. Not everyone is happy to be here every day. If we think "Oh, they will love this", they don't. They are brave and industrious and curious and cautious and terrified and wounded and relieved and joyful and sad and angry and grateful and homesick. And all those feelings are so mixed up together and show up so unpredictably that we never know what the day is going to look like or how a new event is going to turn out. All kinds of things can trigger awful memories that they are not ready to talk about or acknowledge, leaving us to wonder what our precious children have endured. They share things as they are ready, and each time, our hearts are broken all over again. Truthfully, I wasn't prepared to have to work through forgiving those who have wronged my children. People I have never met. People who have very likely also been wounded and wronged themselves. One thing I am learning.... I am not The Healer. I am the Mom. I have been called to be the Mother and let the Lord be The Healer. He alone is able to bind up wounds and heal the broken hearted. I am not The Rescuer. He is. I am not my children's Redeemer or Strong Tower. Our daily, fervent prayer is that soon our children will begin to long for The Savior, and in faith and surrender, will begin to allow Him to heal and redeem as only He can. My heart swells with joy and anticipation when I take time to imagine what each of them might look like with a healed, redeemed life.
Bottom line: At this point in the journey, our family is settling in. Love is increasing. So is grace. And trust. And laughter. Some really, really funny stuff happens at our house every single day. Just yesterday, I had to stop Nick because he was brushing the dog with his toothbrush. I told him that was gross. His response?? "Why, Mom?" Are you kidding me??? Or when AnnaBelle closed her finger in the car door and later told Nick "Nick, look at my boobie." Nick started yelling and covering his eyes. I had to quickly intervene on that one and explain that she meant to say "boo boo". A completely different thing. And I won't even go into this morning's conversation in the car, when Rod overheard Nick explaining to AnnaBelle how I became their Mom through documents, but Jarrod, Logan, and Parker got here another way. Then he went into the details as he thought them to be. They are forever asking what certain English words mean. Some are easy to explain. Others, like "because" and "stuff" are a bit tougher. They still cannot for the life of them figure out what the big deal about showering is. Once a week has kept them alive all these years. Why change a good thing? We finally had to get blunt with one unnamed Smith and say "You smell like an elephant." As a side note to that, they don't say the word "elephant"'. They say "NFL". We are learning to rejoice in baby steps and small victories. Much is left to do. And much of what needs to be done will require the miraculous. The wounds that orphans carry are deep and very, very painful. You know that much has been taken from them when they still hide their prized possessions under their pillow, and waiting in car line at school more than 5 minutes causes sheer panic that I am not coming to get them this time. Too many people have lied to them, abused them, left them. Their scars are visible and invisible. The memories of each of them are very vivid and heart breaking. And we know that there are so many more stories that they don't dare tell us yet. Truly, they have no idea how to cope or respond to their fear and pain. They know how to survive. So even now, when something unpleasant or uncomfortable happens, their instinct is to go to survival mode. In so many ways, they are like overgrown toddlers. Same attention span, same lack of ability to handle change, same need for 24/7 attention, same lack of reasoning skills, no filter when it comes to speaking their mind, and a certainty that no one else should ever be taken into account. It is all about them Whatever it takes. This is what happens when children are not raised. They seem to miss out on most major growth milestones and important teaching and training. Good thing God is more than able to heal the brokenness. And it's a darn good thing that His mercies are new every morning, because some days we really do ask God what in the world He has asked of us. In the end, I still get the biggest tickle out of saying I've got 6 kids. And, as another side note, they are ALL our kids. It makes me nearly hyperventilate when someone refers to the older 3 as "our own kids" and the newer 3 as "the others" or whatever. I also about croak when we are asked about their very difficult story while they are standing there or if we are encouraged to "go get some counseling" while our kids are standing there. Not to sound like someone freaking out on facebook or something, but may I gently and with great conviction say that all 6 kids are our own kids. All 6 kids know and agree that they are all our own kids. None of them are borrowed. Just yesterday, one of them asked that they not be introduced as our child from Ukraine, but just as our child. None of the 8 of us is comfortable with being anything but a regular old family. May God wrap His everlasting arms of protection and healing and utter joy around our regular old family, and may His Name be praised through our family as we continue to seek His direction for us. We know He longs to carry us further still....
