Another Moment for Gigi. . . . and NaeNae too.

So, last time we went to AR my mom and I went to the basement of her house and she pulled out this fantastic box.  It had baby clothes in it that belonged to her and my brother, sister, and I.  It was amazing!  SO, since she has been harrassing me (in a positive way) for updated pics of Baby Chief, I thought we would have a photo shoot today in a shirt that once belonged to her NaeNae.  And let me tell you something people, this little shirt had to be ironed!  That's a committment from me . . . but the baby Chief was as cute today as her Grandmother was those years ago.  And I was just as proud of my baby as her mother had been of her.

 

Here's another, just for fun.

For those of you who understand. . . .

I got the new insurance cards today!!!!  For those of you who rememeber, we had a couple months there where the cards for baby chief said "Baby Girl R."  It made my heart sad to see them every time.  We went to court, still don't have the right birth certificate, but faxed the court documents to the right people and they came in the mail!  I would put a picture up if it didn't have all that private info on it, but just use your imaginations. . . .

cards just for Baby Chief.  With her REAL name on it.  Amen and amen.

2 Corinthians 5:17
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! 

Psalm 139: 13-16
For you created my inmost being;you knit me together in my mother's womb.  
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, 
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

Gigi and the things she loved. . .

Well, today I had one of those moments. You know, when you are going along, everything is fine, and all of the sudden you see something and the memories are so full, and life is so dear that tears begin to fall. Today, we saw a butterfly on the front window. Benjamin thought it would be a great idea to get the magnifying glass that came from Gigi's house. (He has been wanting one for some time, so when I was going through the garage sale stuff and found one, I gave it to him.) They both (the butterfly and Benjamin) sat there for probably 5 minutes looking at each other.

I was reminded of my Gigi. She LOVED to look at all the things outside our home, from the flowers to the deer to the birds to the bugs. She would notice things outside and point them out to the boys. They would walk around outside together and notice things in nature and she would tell them about it. She would tell them about what kind of tree it was, and what kind of bugs there were. It was precious to me and to them. She would have loved watching Benjamin explore using something that came from her. Know she had played a role in the growth of his mind and heart. I learned many things from my grandmother, but today I am remembering her love for nature and her love for her Savior that shone forth when she loved my children. Thank you Jesus for such time with such a woman. Hope you guys are having a blast!

Finalization and the changing of a name. . .

Our biggest excitement this month was finalizing the  adoption!  It was an incredible day.   There was a judge,
 two lawyers (one for the birth father since his rights had to be terminated) and one for us, our family, my mother, sister and great aunt, and a couple of precious ones from the agency, Hannah's Dream.  How I longed for my grandmother to be there too, but that's another thought for another day.  It was amazing.  The judge entered, and we all stood, just like you see on TV.  They had some lawyer talking, and then the judge looked straight at me and said.  "Do you understand what is happening here?  Do you want to adopt this child as one of your own?"  I answered yes.  He then asked, "Do you understand that this is not like marriage?  There is no option for divorce?  Once this is finished it is final??  Do you still want to proceed??"  A somber and excited, "Yes."  He looked at Daddy Chief and asked if he agreed.  All the sudden, with authority and strength, he said,
     "It is further ordered, adjudged, and decreed that  the adoption of Baby Girl R., a minor child, by Daddy Chief and Mama Chief, husband and wife, be and is hereby granted; that said child is hereby adopted as the child of said petitioners and that the name of the child is hereby changed to Baby Chief."  (let the reader understand)
     And it was finished.  He signed, the lawyers signed, we took some pictures and we walked out 10 minutes after we had started with a new, precious, completely legal addition to our family.  It was ALMOST comparable to leaving the hospital for the first time with my biological ones.  You know that feeling?  Like, is that really it?  They are just letting me leave with this amazing, incredible, fragile, and yet beautiful thing that has consumed my heart??
     I have been pondering and praying for a while now over what that judge said.  You see, I have two different insurance cards that call our daughter Baby Girl R.  That was her legal and official name before we went to court.  Literally.  Baby Girl.  I had no say in what she was named at birth.  I had to wait.
     I was reminded of all the amazing verses in the Word referencing our name and waiting.  Revelation 2:17 says, “To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it,”  I was reminded of Romans 8 where it says, "Not only so, but we ourselves groan inwardly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies."  I am reminded that our adoption is finalized when Jesus comes back, gives us new BODIES and NAMES.  I am reminded that Jesus is not coming back yet because he loves all people, and longs for as many as possible to turn to him.  The end of Revalation also says, "Behold, I am coming soon!”  You see, our hope is not in today.  Our hope is not in who we are now, or “who” we were born, or anything else about us in our lives now.  Our hope is in His return.  When the family is reunited, when we get to be legally and completely His because the rights of this world are officially terminated.  And when we get our new names. 

Some people don't really understand why we got on this adoption train.  It's not complicated, it's not even all that radical.  It's definitely not because we have anything that anyone else doesn't have.  It's simply because we get to see God in a whol new light.  We get to know Him better because we love this little one.  And I, for one, am grateful.  I wouldn't change it for the world. 

What do you do when it rains?

You get on your blue, car raincoat.  (You can't see the cool cars, but they are on the inside).

Be sure not to forget your snow boots.  It may get cold outside, AND they keep you dry.

AND YOU PLAY!!!  

(I couldn't get that pic due to a really cute little girl screaming at me for her mid-morning snack.)

See??

Just because. . .

Just for fun, . .

This is hilarious, by one friend of mine.  Those of us transplanted out of the south don't realize what we had until it was gone. . . .

"How I Know You're Not A Southerner"

In an effort to blog. . .

Hey Lydia, why haven't you been blogging?  You know, you made that big huge claim that you were going to work through all your issues here with us.  What's up?


Ummmm . . . . . I think this would explain it.

An Open Letter

Dear Blogging Friends,

I am making a comittment before you today.  As most of you know, it has been 2 months of drama in our home and family.  I say drama because it has reached from the heights of joy to the depths of sorrow- with every emotion in between.  I want to commit to you (all 4 of my loyal readers!) that I will work through it.  You may want to take a break from the blog for a while-- I am not making any promises.  For the moment, all I am hoping for is authentic.  A heart set upon Jesus, waiting for His return, enduring what he called, "light and momentary affliction."  It will be a journey and I don't even know where it will lead us.  So, to start off the efforts, here's the list of the last 8 weeks:

1. An updated home study at the end of April.
2. An amazing reunion with dear seminary friends-- hallelujah!
3. Packing a family of 4 for a six-week trip over the ocean to a foreign land.
4. Riding with aforementioned family of 4 in airplanes over said ocean.
5. Arriving in previously mentioned foreign land only to hear that our home in the "safe" homeland had been broken into.
6. Learned that jewelry box with incredibly sentimental, though not valuable, items was the only thing stolen.
7. Remembered that also in said jewelery box was a drawer full of old and new credit cards, checks, and student id's (with social security numbers).
8. Learned that one card already had close to $3000 on it- canceled that one and all others we could remember.  Put alerts on the credit. 
9. Spent 6 amazing weeks caring for team members abroad- cooking for them, praying over them, listening to them, crying with them, teaching them, and growing in love for them and the lost.
10. Got a phone call that our newest daughter was coming over 2 weeks early and we needed to get home as quickly as possible. 
11. Repacked like mad.
12. Changed plane tickets.
13. Got an email alert about the credit situation- found another card we had forgotten about with over $5000 on it, four new cards applied for, and two new checking accounts.  Financial nightmare, part 2.
14. Found out the renters in our other house had a fire with the grill and had burned half of the deck.
15. On the positive side, the house wasn't burned.
16. Flew back over previously mentioned ocean.
17. Went straight to the hospital.
18. Fell in love with our new daughter.
19. Spent a night in the hospital with her (just mama).
20. Signed all the paperwork first thing the next morning (severely jetlagged).
21. Spent a week living across the stateline in KS while the boys and the chief lived at home in MO.  They came to visit every day. (p.s. really starting to miss my bed about now . . . .)
22. John continues to make calls with credit card companies and banks.  Decided to freeze all credit indefinitely.
23. The boys at the home Baby Girl and I were staying in got the stomach virus- oh Lord, please protect us!
24. Praise the Lord, made it home!!! (no sickness yet!!!!)
25. Spent 2 1/2 days organizing, unpacking some more, doing laundry, and attempting to establish normal routines in our home.
26. Got a call that my grandmother and friend had had a severe stroke, was in the ER on a ventilator, and probably wasn't going to make it.  
27. Packed and drove again with Baby Girl to get down to Central Arkansas before she stopped breathing.
28. Read Psalm 23 and 25 and Isaiah 53 and 54 over Gigi.  Sang her favorite song over her.
29. Watched her breath her last.
30. Spent a fantastically fun July 4th with our cousins we don't get to see enough.
31. Went to a graveside service in south Arkansas.  Sang.  Sweated.  Wept.
32. Drove back to northwest AR with my amazing sister and had sweet conversation.
33. Went to a memorial service.  Sang again.  Spoke. Wept . . . again.
34. Began cleaning out Gigi's apartment.  Laughed and wept. . . . . . . . . .  again.
35. Sent John off to a three-day board meeting in KY.
36. Spent three more amazing days with my fantastic mama and daddy.
37. Drove home alone with three children under the age of 6.

The last time we had a season even remotely close to this I realized that my heart is exceptionally good at "sucking it up" and not dealing with emotions.  I also realized however, that when I shut down to my own emotions and heart, I also shut down to God.  I don't get to hear all that he is saying to me.  He has helped me survive in the past, but not thrive.  Suffering is intricately connected to the life of a believer in this age, just as I am intricately connected to a Savior that suffered.  With every ounce of my being, I don't want to miss anything.  I want to show up.  No matter how much it hurts sometimes and no matter how "joy"-ful it is.  Join me only if you dare.

Bethany. . . your story, Part 1.

 Here we are walking down the hall, coming to meet you for the first time.  I am struck with amazement that we are almost here.  We have rearranged flights, flown in two airplanes, several taxis, and a mini van to get to you today.  And finally here we come. . .  and I find myself remembering.

I remembered the dinner your Daddy and I had as we decided now is the time to start the adoption process.  I remembered sitting at a table with Randy Bohlender asking all the right and wrong questions, but leaving feeling as if we were ready to start something really big.  I remembered meeting with Tracie the first time and believing her as she made it sound both amazingly complex and simple at the same time.  I remembered last summer, and finishing the mounds of paperwork for a home study, planning fundraising dinners, and praying for you every morning.  I remembered getting to September, and believing that you were going to come to us at any moment, only to see now that the Lord was just beginning to form you.  I remembered meeting for the first time with Susan, from Hannah's Dream.  I remembered loving her and them, but being disappointed because they didn't have any birth mom's yet and it might be a while.  I was so sure you were coming soon.  I remembered getting phone calls for little boys that needed homes and sitting at my kitchen table weeping, that I couldn't save them all.  But knowing that I must wait for the one the Lord had spoken so clearly about. . .  Bethany.  I remembered thinking that maybe you were to come this winter.  And I remember the birth mother the Lord put in our path to pray for those months- only to learn later that her baby girl was not our Bethany.  I remembered beginning to plan for an overseas trip without you. . . confused, but always following the Father.

And then.  I remembered the call from Tracie.  It was in early March and I had just put your daddy on a plane to Florida and then Haiti.  I remembered the frantic call to him.  I remember him saying, "This feels right."  I remembered agreeing from deep in my heart.  I remembered weeping when they called me and said you were a girl.  Our Bethany.  I remembered meeting and signing papers, and asking, "Are you sure June 24 is early enough for us to come back from our trip?"  I remembered working so hard in April to update our home study so we would be ready for you.  I remembered packing your diaper bag for the hospital, "Just in case."  I remembered praying for you and your birth mother fervently, that the Lord would make his heart known to you both.  That he would speak to you both, and protect you both.  And then I remembered yesterday morning, when I got the call that you were coming and I wept again.  Joy that is was finally time and sorrow that I wouldn't be there to get you.  There were wonderful arms there to hold you through the night, and for that I will forever be grateful.  But they were not mine. . .

So, here we are, approaching the door.  I see you and all the world stops.  There is no sound, there is no one around me.  It is only us and all I can think is. . .

"You are fearfully and wonderfully made, little one.  Fearfully and wonderfully."