LETTING GO

We have had to let go.  And so far, it has not been fun.  You would think that our very full plate and full dinner table and full house would cause us to want to let go somewhere.  But this one hurt.  It hurt because once you know one of these precious, fatherless children, your heart gets all tangled up in theirs.  Once they come into your home, they come into your life.  Once they call you “Mama” and “Papa”, you believe that you are just that.  Once God overwhelms you with a calling to adopt and a passion for orphans, you can’t walk away very easily from a little one who you have imagined as your very own child.  Even on the days when you think you could not possibly add one more thing, you never rule out adopting again.

But for now, we have become convinced that letting go is the right thing.  Our precious little Kristina (fondly known by the Smiths as “The Stallion”) won’t be with us this summer, and most likely, not at all.  She is the tiny blonde fireball we hosted last summer. Our plan was to rehost her over Christmas, but then we got the call to go to Ukraine to get Nick and AnnaBelle and Evan.  Another family hosted her for Christmas, and then we were to get her back this summer, along with her younger brother, Vlad.  The money was paid. The decision was made. A new picture of Kristina and Vlad was put on my bathroom counter right by my perfume so that, as far as my eyes, thoughts, and heart were concerned, it wouldn’t be long until these two were part of us again.

One afternoon very recently, Rod and I settled in for the conference call for all hosting families. I was excited to get all the final details for their arrival.  Pen and notebook in hand, I was ready. That’s when everything changed. Our hosting director began the conference call (with several families at once) by asking everyone to pray for one of the families. This family’s passion and calling is to host and adopt deaf orphans. (Isn’t God amazing? What a cool ministry.) They were a part of the conference call, but did not yet have a precious one to host and adopt.  A couple of children had “fallen through” for them.  One of those children was ours. This family is so certain of their ministry that they already have 2 children with hearing impairments, already know sign language in English and Ukrainian, already have a relationship with a deaf school.  All Rod and I could do was just look at each other. Vlad is deaf. This family is perfect for him. Vlad has a very specific need, and they have a very specific gift from God for him. For Kristina, they just need to double up on their vitamins and their abilities to say “no” when her 34 pounds of cuteness starts beggingJJ

Long story short (ok, not really), we let them go.  Not easily, but with awe at God’s orchestration of a perfect family for these two fatherless children.  Rod and I and the first litter of Smith kids grieved.  A lot.  The Stallion stole our hearts.  And in case you are wondering, it doesn’t help to hear logic or reason here.  You know, “Well, you and Rod have enough going on.” “Well, we didn’t know how in the world you were going to add anymore.” “You look tired already.”  Whatever truth lies in those phrases doesn’t make us miss her less.  As a matter of fact, “tired” is not a bad word. “Comfortable”, “complacent”, “mediocre”, “self focused”, “visionless” --- now THOSE are bad words.  Can I get an amen??? Anyway, they will call 2 others “Mama” and “Papa” beginning this week.  And we are completely at peace with this decision. Their picture still sits on my bathroom counter, though. I just can’t seem to move it yet.

And so we keep learning to let go.  We keep learning that the things and the people that God brings into our lives do not belong to us.  I am not my own. I utterly and completely belong to Him.  I am to KNOW Him and make Him KNOWN.  I am to make much of Him.  And, in the case of the Smith Family, the One to Whom we belong has made it very, very clear that we are to love, minister to, defend the cause of, have broken hearts over, and bring into our home, ORPHANS.  The fatherless.  Those children who are wounded beyond anything you or I could imagine.  Little ones whose biological parents (for lots of reasons) chose alcohol and other addictions over them.  I blogged in Ukraine that there is much we will not tell about our children’s stories.  I am even more convinced 6 months later that we should not and will not.  It’s hard to find the line, really.  On the one hand, I want to tell enough to plead the cause of the orphan and to break the church’s heart.  Honestly, I long for some folks to lose sleep at night and wrestle with God because of these precious ones.  I also sometimes feel like I need to tell a bit of their story to explain my kids’ bad behavior days.  You would think that by now I would have quit caring what other people thought.  I thought I had. But there are some very common “former orphan” behaviors that make people look at them funny, or tell them to stop the way they are talking, or look at Rod and me like they either feel terrible for us or think we “over extended ourselves”, or make them just tell Rod and me what disturbing thing they just witnessed from our children.  THAT is when I feel the need to share.  Truthfully, I don’t know if I am, at that point, defending them or us.  Sometimes I am just rambling and stumbling quickly on my words to gloss over the situation and make it all just STOP.

ON THE OTHER HAND, so much of the story is not mine to tell.  It’s not fair to bring a 16 year old into a foreign country, with a totally different life, different “friends”, different parents, different siblings, rules for the very first time, different food, etc.,  and say, essentially, “I’m going to tell every detail of your life to everyone I’ve ever met.  Oh, yeah, plus the people who happen upon this rambling blog whom I have not met.  Is that ok? You still trust me, right?????”    In any case, we continue to learn new parts of the story every few days.  It is disturbing, to say the very least.  What these fatherless children live through is wrong in every single way.  And once you begin to see and hear the common thread in most all of the stories, and you add that to a calling from God for this to be your ministry, you are forever thinking to yourself “there has got to be more that we can do.” Our younger three children still have a few friends that they BEG us to go get.  Our kids know all too well what these children are living through. And now, we are getting the picture of it too. And EVERY SINGLE TIME, Rod and I wonder together if we should attempt to go get them.  More than one of these children hugged us over and over before we left Ukraine.  You don’t forget.  You don’t forget what they look like, feel like, smell like. 

So, who knows??? We don’t know what to do with all of these new things in our lives.  A year ago, we had NO IDEA.  None.  We weren’t tired then.  We were restless. 

Welp, friends, we are restless no moreJ Yesterday all I wanted was to go to the bathroom without someone beating on the door and asking me specifically what I was doing in there.  It’s ok when the door beater is 2 or 3 years old.  But 16???? Not making this up.  Also not throwing my son under the bus.  When children are wounded their entire life, even a parent’s disappearing into the bathroom is unnerving to them.  They will sometimes move away from the group to be alone on their own terms, but to have us “disappear” without explanation is scary. And not ok. Our youngest still cannot sleep in a room alone or even go into a restroom alone. She has made some progress at home in that if I am not available to go into the restroom with her, Sophie (the dog) will do.  All three still need a person or a dog with them at night.  For now, trying to be logical with them about the safety of our home or the age of the child is completely useless.  The wounds are far too deep for logic or for monster spray under the bed.  I would give my eye teeth for my little girl to be afraid of the same monsters under the bed that I was as a child.  You know, the kind that caused you to be sure to never let your foot or arm hang out of the covers over the side of the bed.  Her nightmares and thoughts are of very real things that have been very real in her life.  Same with the boys.  I’m flirting with crossing the line of sharing too much here, but the boys still wake up swinging their fists sometimes.  Always on edge.  Always defensive.  Always prepared.  Rarely completely relaxed.  To drop your guard where they come from is dangerous and risky. And, I am learning, you don’t let that kind of thing go in a few months.  I’m starting to wonder if it will be years.  That’s why Jesus MUST be the Healer.  Otherwise, it’s just too big.  That’s why we never rule out ministering to “just one more”.  Our kids are not unique in the orphan world.  100% of them suffer beyond imagination.  Before we adopted, more than one person asked us what we thought the chances were of “getting a child with ‘issues’”.  We always answered “100%”.  And it’s true for all 147+ million orphans in this world.  And that doesn’t include all the trafficked children.  That’s why I want to tell “just enough” so that, for some people, sleep becomes difficult because of a broken heart for these little ones.

Nonetheless, we let go of Kristina and Vlad.  God provided perfectly for them.  It’s not all we have had to let go of.  There is a lot, really.  Personal time and personal space are two that come to mind.  Also, Jarrod has been in Greece this past week.  Yeah, Greece.  The same son who has been through countless struggles medically and neurologically and could not string together more than 3-4 “well days” in a row in his whole life is on mission trip in Greece. Who among us saw that coming??  He is completely convinced that God has spoken to his heart to spend his life on the mission field and he plans to go to mission school in Wisconsin in the fall.  God’s work in Jarrod’s life and Jarrod’s heart of obedience are overwhelming and precious.  And if you know Jarrod’s story, you know that there is much, much letting go that is having to be done by this Mom. 

For good measure, I have also let go of my 40’s this month.  50 years old.  Seriously?? 50 has done some weird things to me.  Turning 50, for whatever reason, makes you stop and take complete inventory of your life.  It confirms that life on this earth won’t go on forever.  For me, it has caused me to repeatedly say to myself “don’t waste your life, Lisa”.  It makes “complacency” nauseating to me.  When I was 25 and someone said “You only get one shot at this life on earth”, I didn’t think too much of it.  Now I do. I think very much of it.  And at 50, I am certain more than ever that “I want to live until I die”. And by “live”, I mean “LIVE”.  I don’t want to miss anything.  Whatever God calls us to next, I want to go for it.  Without reservation or apology. I long to “let go” of myself. Die to myself.  Seize the day and let go.  I’m realizing that seizing the day has a lot to do with celebrating.  Parker and Nick are our celebrators.  If you ever see Nick in church, the boy is celebrating.  If there is music, he is dancing. Last Sunday, I had a stupid moment and signaled for him to calm it down a bit.  Then I realized that he (and Pastor Mike) were the ones that understood seizing the day, so I danced with him.  Why the heck not????!!!! Have you taken a look at the Cross lately??  It’s a cause for celebration!  Nick also celebrates when each family member wakes up in the morning.  The greatest is when he has already celebrated you (with painful hugs and squeals), then you leave for a little bit (like to go to Life Group for an hour), then you come back into his day. He celebrates you again!!! He must get it from Parker.  Most every morning, Parker asks “what’s for dinner?”  Next question?? Is anyone coming over for dinner?  Tonight we have the blessed good fortune of having our celebrating Pastor and his family over for a cookout.  Parker headed out the door for work a few minutes ago, pumping his fist in the air and saying “See you at Smith-Stephens 2012 tonight!!”  We’ve got a lot to learn from Parker and Nick.  They seize the day.  They rejoice in it.  It’s Biblical.  So is the “letting go”.  Not as much fun as the seizing the day, but just as Biblical if God asks me to do so. 

Signing off now to prepare for Smith-Stephens 2012.  I’ll straighten the house because Betty is coming over.  I’ll move all the breakables, because Pastor Mike and Nick may break into danceJ