Year of Jubilee |

in which we ask for help

May 15, 2012 in Fundraising with 0 Comments

this past month has been…hectic. shoot. these past six months have been crazy.

turn in our application, start homestudy interviews, face a stalemate with our social worker’s illness.

get our home visit completed while struggling through chills and 100+ fever….

then, we battled the what-have-yous for the next few weeks while we juggled paperwork and small, idiosyncratic pieces of information to complete our file for our agency.

to top it off, a month ago our case worker tell us she has moms waiting which led to us {finally} submitting everything for review. if you’ve forgotten, we heard back less than two days later :: we were approved.

which brings us to today.

april 16, we had 5200 dollars due.

we didn’t have it.

{we still don’t}

but here’s the thing :: nothing has changed. i believe He still finishes what He starts. if there’s one thing i’ve come to understand through this process it’s that His timing is impeccable.

last week, our agency called and set us up for monthly payments. this is both good and not-so-good. good, because now our amount we’re responsible for isn’t as overwhelming as a chunk of cash when we cross a certain line in the process. {especially since we’re already behind and the placement can happen at any moment}. but…since we’re on a payment plan, this will lengthen the process for after the placement – when we have a kid and are waiting on the court to process papers.

usually, this takes about six months. with monthly payments, if we don’t get a head start or find a wad of cash to pay off a chunk of the bill, this process could take up to a year.

so we’re asking for help. we’ve been scrimping and saving and trying to figure out what we can do to squeeze every cent out of what we already make…but still, the 960 dollar a month payment is pretty large.

would you consider joining us? check out our puzzle fundraiser here. we bought a 1500 piece puzzle and for every piece “purchased” we’ll find ourselves closer to the goal. the best part? we’ll get to write your name on the back of the puzzle – a way for us to remember who gave and joined us in this process. even better :: baby ramirez will see it as well. if you just want to donate, check out the “join us” button on the right side of the blog.

and if you can’t join us through donating, pray? pray for the birth mom. pray for our baby. pray for us.

together, we’ll witness God do an amazing thing in bringing baby ramirez home.

in an instant

May 9, 2012 in Faith with 0 Comments

it’s hard to know what to write here. for the past few weeks we’ve felt some movement but haven’t necessarily felt obligated to share everything. there is one thing i’ve realized though ::

suddenly, our life has found a precarious balance. in an instant, a millisecond, our life will change.

one minute, it will be business as usual.

the next minute, we’ll find ourselves parents.

it’s so difficult to guard your heart through this whole shift. phone calls come, possibilities emerge, and then just as quickly they disappear. we know the drill – we’ve had friends go through this before and we value their wisdom and stories. it’s because of them we have even a remote idea of what to expect.

but even then we can’t rely on other people’s stories.

THIS is what i’m struggling through right now. i know the importance of story :: i know the value of listening to a friend tell me of how God spoke to her through her own adoption experience. but, her experience is all together different than mine -

…where God is showing me what the love of a Father looks like.

…and He’s mending this mother heart.

…and He’s showing me how to trust.

…and the Gospel rings True even now – even in the hard spaces – even in moments i want to throw my hands up and say really? there’s nothing more to share?

i think this is what propels me forward, the knowledge and understanding that God is working and creating a story all our own.

and this, to me, is beautiful.

faith confessions

April 24, 2012 in Faith with 2 Comments

one of the biggest surprises in pursuing our child through adoption: the Gospel reaching through and grabbing my heart.

i never expected this.

i’m learning {slowly} that there’s a lot of bad theology in my heart. like owning the fear of God making our wait longer simply because my desire to be placed is growing by the day. almost as if He’s punishing me for being selfish – for embracing this mama heart. or, because i know there’s no physical way russ & i can pay the remainder of the money by ourselves, and because i know He will have to intervene somehow, i wonder if He’ll make us “pay” for those years we opted for credit to survive while russ didn’t have a job. again, our wait will be longer because we mucked it up a few years ago and now have a hill of debt we’re slowly crawling out of – month by month.

i’m not sure where these thoughts come from – and i promise i’m not joking when i admit to them.

it’s all a bit ridiculous, really. i know this.

there’s a huge light pinpointing these untruths in my heart, and i can only imagine it’s His goodness and mercy drawing me closer to Him. adoption is a powerful force – an intimate reminder of who we are and how we fit into His kingdom. and the beauty? the mystery of it all?

He loves us now. in the dirt. in the grime. in the frozen-fear of untruth and twisted logic. i am His daughter and He loves me as i am and nothing will change this.

i don’t pretend to know the inner-workings of His plan. i’m not sure if we’ll get the phone call today or six months from now. i’m learning though, His love is enough. in the wait and in the wondering, He is enough.

and just as He’s called me to be His daughter with no strings attached, i’ll get to experience the joy of doing the same with our child.

in which i am reminded :: He finishes what He starts

April 15, 2012 in Faith, Thoughts with 5 Comments

we really need you to get your paperwork in…i have pregnant moms waiting.

this was said to me a few weeks ago by my caseworker. i don’t think i’ll ever forget that moment, because i was taking a sip of water at my desk and i nearly spewed liquid all over my computer screen.

they have waiting pregnant moms.

these past few months have been a little surreal. for one reason or another, we’ve felt this divine push to get things done. it’s all happening soon, isn’t it Father? i’d ask and the tug on my Spirit was like Him squeezing my hand.

so really, this comment by our caseworker wasn’t surprising – but it still made me catch my breath.

we ended up sending in the rest of the paperwork by the end of the week, and they received it this past wednesday. knowing homestudies can take a few weeks to process and approve, i called tuesday to see if maybe – possibly – we could have things wrapped up by friday for a grant we were pursuing.

“but i mean…if not, no worries – we can apply for the december deadline.”

there was silence on the other end of the line and then a slight clearing of her throat. “no – no, we can definitely try for friday.”

we got the phone call friday afternoon that we’re officially approved.

i can’t help but think the emotions i felt were similar to when a woman’s water breaks. excitement, fear, overwhelming wonder…

it just so happens our caseworker will be in town tomorrow for a meeting. because of this, she’s taking the opportunity to stop by the house for us to sign the agreement and to give us some last minute training papers. we never knew it would happen so quickly so we’re not prepared for the full payment due on signing, but we’re not worried.

yesterday, a friend sent me a message asking me how much we had left. i replied, “4800″ – knowing this seems impossible for only a few days.

she ended up donating more than i ever thought possible, saying “listen: God is faithful to finish. He always finishes what He starts.”

and i think back on this past year and a half. i think of the quickening i felt to begin the process, the choosing of ethiopia and the immediate halting of that decision. i remember the breaking i felt for domestic adoption, and the way our agency fully embraced us. i remember the timing, the frustration at not being able to find moments to fill out paperwork but knowing the pruning taking shape in both our hearts.

but most of all, i remember the steady upswing of this mama’s heart, knowing my baby is coming soon, and praying daily for the strength to make it through this season of jubilee.

because of this, i know :: He is faithful to complete what He started. perhaps this is why i’m not freaking out about tomorrow’s meeting. whether we receive the funds or not, i know He’s placed us in this time and space for a reason. and for this, i’m at a loss for words.

when Beauty pursues you {an excerpt}

April 4, 2012 in Mom-Heart with 1 Comment

here’s the thing: there’s nothing i’m more fearful of then becoming a mom.

…but there’s nothing i want more.

i’ve had people speak against this fear. my first year of teaching, the principal looked me in the eye and said, “i cannot wait to see you as a mom. your heart…you are just going to be incredible.”

he walked out of the room before i could really say anything in response, and it’s probably a good thing. it wasn’t necessarily the time or place to fill him in on the very thing i worry incessantly about. me? really? will my heart ever be ready enough…whole enough…for motherhood?

in so many ways, i’m still so broken. i know this. i feel it. i’m still learning how to give voice to the little girl inside – even though she struggles so often to find words. my whole life, i’ve allowed my heart’s eyes to open and see those hurting. i’ve had an automatic empathy with deep brokenness. probably because i sensed it in myself but wasn’t willing to look. heal my heart and make it clean, open up my eyes to the things unseen means something completely different when it’s your heart going through the cleansing process of the Refiner’s fire. your eyes see something altogether beautiful and grotesque when they turn inward on the hidden wounds that left unchecked, turn into slums of the heart.

this is when you know only He can bind your wounds. this is when you realize this High Priest who knows our weakness and experienced rejection on the deepest level is not ignorant of the harsh reality we live. and sitting here, heart quieting down to a dull roar, i understand He waits for me to catch His eye.

let me help you. let me hold you through this. I know this pain – I know the haunting.

and this help He’s so willing to give washes over me and even though the pain still rages, and even though my weakness shines, i walk forward bearing His strength as He takes my heart and holds it gingerly against His chest.

and i know there are some out there who, after having one or two or ten kids, will laugh at my processing. you’re never ready for kids, honey, they’re probably thinking. and i get this. honestly.

i remember moments growing up where i felt mothered. a family friend driving through a raging storm late at night to meet me at work after hearing i didn’t make the cheerleading squad at college. standing outside, the air fresh with rain, i remember feeling loved and fought for: you remember something, elora – you’re something special. this may not have worked out, but God’s got something for you. i know it.

or the mentor who asked me in a gentle voice if i was a people-pleaser and gave me the freedom to disappoint.

or the friend who asked questions until i knew she knew i wasn’t okay…and then she asked some more until the truth spilled out – broken and chaotic yet ending with hope of restoration.

or the team teacher who let me cry on her shoulder my first year of teaching and reminded me of why i got into the profession. she looked me in the eyes and spoke away the lies and told me of His heart for me – of how He had me at this place, this moment, for such a time as this.

every single memory dealing with counteracting the lies with Truth. every single memory including words dripping with His love.

so i owe it to my future daughter to deal with those demons. to stare at the darkness and shine the Light in the cracks – even though it may hurt. whether this means writing out my resentments for step four in recovery or tearing up about two hundred more kleenexes while sitting in my counselor’s office, then so be it.

because only when i’m able to recognize and fight the lies inside will i be able to fight the lies spoken to others – including my daughter.

this doesn’t mean i feel like i have to be perfect before having a daughter. one of my prayers is that my daughter knows i trust the Maker’s hand enough to allow a continual breaking and remolding throughout my life – even after she gets here. i want her to see me leaning into grace. i want her to know the importance of getting dirty – of sitting and dwelling in the pain long enough to feel His hand smooth the edges. i want her to learn how to not cringe from discomfort. i want her to see me fully alive – embracing the beauty and the chaos and being willing to share my story completely and without fear.

this was an excerpt from my eBook, when Beauty pursues you, available on kindle. get your copy here.