New Beginnings

I haven't blogged for a while so it's definitely time for an update. Remember that part where I said that I felt like things were percolating like a coffee pot? Well, change was definitely in the air. Before school got out, my little Chloe started talking about moving again. My ears perked up because she did the same thing before our sojourn to Texas. Chris was getting that itchy restless feeling at work and I had been prepping the house to get ready to return it to our landlords. So we started thinking that maybe Chris' job was going to transfer us. ( Haha.) In the midst of it all, we got a call that our renter in CO had abandoned our house and left a mess (!) in his wake. June was spent figuring that whole mess out with a couple of trips to Colorado by Chris and I. But finally we did, and the kids and I finished a marathon trip to Colorado fueled by the need to get our house ready for the next occupant. So hours were spent in the car and then more hours working on the house during which I conquered my fear of the weedeater and miter saw ( I could be hired by a contractor at this point. I felt like a mixture of Wonderwoman and Tim the Toolman-not sure what THAT costume would look like!) The kids and I had literally just left for our trip home when Chris called to let me know that he had just been laid off. His company awarded his dedication and move across the country with much less loyalty in the form of budget cuts. Now that's just peachy.

The good news is that our house is now ready for it's next occupants. The surprising news is that it will be us. In a week and change we will be saying our last goodbyes to the fire ants and humidity and concrete. But also to friends and memories. So the joy of going home is tempered with some sadness and questions.

I thought it was ironic that my last post was about when we moved to Colorado the first time and how we had watched God move in that situation. Here we are again. Heading to Colorado without a job and waiting for the way to be made clear. Ahh, a life full of adventure. I'll (try to) keep you posted. =)

Last day of May to publish a new post

I thought it was about time to post something new. Sitting here munching my baby carrots didn't give me much inspiration so I just decided to post some pics:

Our little Chloe recently received her orange belt in TaeKwonDo! We were all so proud and celebrated with an orange poke cake.

Here's Aidan receiving his 3rd grade awards for being a smarty pants and good citizen. Although they didn't use the actual term "smarty pants". In my opinion they should have.

Cupcakes!

We took this pic for Chris for his birthday. There were water moccasins swimming in the water behind us. So we threw dirt clods in the water to scare them to the other side while we raced down to snap the pic. None of us have a great love for snakes. And while Aidan has a normal boys' fascination with reptiles, he still prefers to his distance from the poisonous ones!

Not much new on the adoption front. Some days I feel so close. Like a coffee pot percolating and I'm just sure that something amazing is going to bubble up soon. Then on other days I feel so far from knowing which way to go that I'm sure I wouldn't be able to find my way out of a wet paper bag. In the meantime, I am trying to not focus too much on the big picture that I miss the little amazing moments all around me.

A few years ago we had one of those big life altering events when Chris was laid off from work. And so we were thrown into the loop of trying to figure out what the next, and right, step was for us to take. At the time we were living in Stillwater. And since the job market for mechanical engineers in Stillwater is quite small, the options there were nonexistent. But just knowing that we were not going to stay didn't exactly illuminate the path to take. I remember doing everything I could to speed up the process. Gathering friends and family for prayer meetings. Researching, praying, fasting, analyzing and (I confess, pestering my sweet, patient husband). As if I searched for The Answer hard enough, we would find it sooner. One night just after our friends were leaving from another prayer time, Chris suddenly started laughing. God had given him a picture of me. He said that he saw me sitting in the passenger seat of a car, with my legs sticking out over the seat because they weren't long enough to reach the floor. And I was furiously and intently working over one of those toy, plastic steering wheels. (You know, the ones that fit over your legs and you can turn the wheel and pull on the gearshift and turn the plastic yellow key?). There I was yanking on the steering wheel and plastic controls, pushing buttons...and there is God sitting next to me in the driver's seat. And my dear husband is laughing because he said that God had given me the toy to occupy myself so that I would just shut up and let Him drive. (And yet, He is smiling because that is the way He made me) Our departure from Stillwater did happen, and in a beautiful way that was completely out of our hands and orchestrated the entire way by Someone much larger than us.

Here I am again with several events going on right now that I want to demand to fit into my time frame. And for some reason the memory of that story has been coming to my mind. Hmm. I'm doing a bit better this time. Keeping my mouth shut when I want to make circumstances come about, trying for patience and trusting in a time frame that is not my own. Well, okay, so I may be yanking on the steering wheel a wee bit. What was it that the wise little green dude said? "Patience, young one."

Still Waiting

This silly computer keeps eating my posts and this is the third time that I am trying to finish this post! Today we went to the adoption conference. We sat on our bums for 6 hours, ate Jason's Deli for lunch (A word about the cookie--wouldn't have made it as a cookie in Mrs. Fields kitchen!), watched some videos and listened to people's stories. I admit that I was hoping for thunder and lightning and a word from the heavens. No kidding, it did thunder and lightning, but it was only a brief storm and no word from the heavens, that I heard anyways. We talked to some agencies but the only definitive thing we walked away with was a huge glossy mountain of papers and brochures. The biggest question we have been asking and trying to answer is how did you know That Child or That Country was yours? And you know how when you are waiting to fall in love, and so you ask everyone you know who is already in love, how they knew? How they knew that their person was The One? And the answer you get is--you just know. Completely unhelpful. Not at all practically applicable. We want to be able to do something. To make Something happen. But you can't. Not until you actually fall in love. That's how we feel, waiting...waiting to fall in love.

Some Pics

This is my favorite picture of Chloe right now. I have lots of pictures where she is posing and her hair is perfectly in place. But this one captures her personality. This sweet, impish, sassy, hilarious little girl that we have. Who delights in her world as Daddy's sweetheart, Mommy's girl, and Aidan's princess.

And Aidan, our kind and caring, thoughtful little boy whose life is a treasure. My coffee date buddy and adventure junkie. My handsome oldest son who takes his job seriously as hero, best friend, and advocate for his little sis. Who fulfills his role so well that Chloe once remarked that she wanted a million more brothers since Bubba is so wonderful.

Boy #123456

When we first started talking about adopting seriously I spent a lot of time on the internet researching stuff and looking for listings. One day I ended up on a site for Uzbekistan with a listing of waiting children. No names or pictures of the kids, just numbers. I was reading through when one little boy's story grabbed my heart. He was 7. And the little blurb said that he was in remission from leukemia. And that he had watched all of his friends being adopted one by one. But he was hard to place because of his medical history and the fact that he is Roma heritage. (Romanian gypsy and very discriminated against in that part of the world). One sweet little boy who had already been through so much more than any child should have to suffer. I sat on the floor in my kitchen and cried for an hour. Up until that point I had taken for granted that any child we adopted would be healthy and beautiful and brilliant like Aidan and Chloe. (possibly I'm a bit biased =)) It didn't really occur to me to think otherwise. And here I was, on the kitchen floor, my heart breaking for a little boy that I had never met. And I wrestled with the idea. Would I be willing to love someone knowing on the outset that their life may end or be a struggle? What if they had cancer or a sickness or a disease? What if opening our hearts to love was going to bring us unimaginable suffering and heartbreak through the suffering of our child? Wouldn't it be easier not to? And yet...my heart says that no child should have to go through that kind of pain alone. And if that was the only thing that we could give, that you will be loved and not alone, than the gift is worth the cost.

PS, this could have just as easily been written by Chris. (minus the crying on the floor, as he responded in just the same way. In fact, with less hesitation than me) And secondly, I started praying for the little guy that God would give him a home and when I checked back the next week his listing was gone.

PPS, through the whole experience, I felt like I came away with a more sobering view of adoption. I am a bit of a romantic and prone to imagine only the most beautiful scenarios (think Anne of Green Gables). I felt like I was asked, 'Would you be willing, even if it was hard? Harder than anything you could imagine. Would you still be willing?' My answer is yes. Yes, I'm scared, but still, yes.

Okay fine, I'll go

A few months ago we started attending a small group called Orphan's Hope. The sweet, helpful people immediately suggested that we attend a adoption seminar coming up in April. I smiled and nodded noncommitedly while thinking that I didn't want to go and I already knew I wanted to adopt so it wasn't for me anyway. I'm not sure why my immediate reaction was strongly against going-it just was. The cost is only 20 dollars with lunch and childcare provided, so that wasn't it. Well, time passes and every new friend we met adoption related somehow or another mentioned or suggested that we attend this seminar. Hmm. I even told Chris as (I was tossing another brochure provided by a well meaning source onto the floor of the car) that I didn't know why people kept bringing up this thing because I just didn't want to go. ("Okay", was his response, by the way) So here I am again tonight when a Facebook friend's link leads me to the info that our church in CO is hosting the exact same seminar (If You Were Mine-it's a video thing)... Hmm. Okay fine, we'll go. April 10. I'm not exactly sure why we should be going. Maybe it's nothing, but maybe, it's something.