Year of Jubilee |

a small reminder, so my heart will never forget.

August 16, 2012 — 1 Comment

last week, i sat in the living room with our community and begged for prayer.

“i just have no words. no words at all for this article and i don’t understand and i can’t figure out these damn emotions clawing to the surface and it’s due on friday….”

i was a little beside myself, clearly.

but it didn’t take long for them to look at me and find the Truth. it didn’t take many questions for me to remember that i haven’t properly dealt with a few realizations at what our child will face. it’s a type of mourning, really.

more and more, i’m understanding just how much brokenness there is in adoption.

more and more, i’m understanding just how much brokenness there is when we come to Christ. when He adopts us.

i’ve said it here before, and i’m sure i’ll say it numerous times until we’re placed and i’m holding a baby and probably even then i’ll whisper this so my heart remembers :: there is nothing that paints a clearer picture of what Christ did for me than earthly adoption.

our baby will move mountains. i know this. our baby will possess a faith that will constantly challenge my own. i’m realizing more and more the purpose behind us saying yes so many months ago is not just so an orphan finds a home. it’s for refinement. it’s for His glory. it’s so Hope gets the last word.

and it’s for Jubilee. this is the season of the Eternal One’s grace.

In Faith, Mom-Heart

waiting for you.

June 4, 2012 — Leave a comment

dear one,

it’s been awhile since i’ve written you, but it’s not because i’ve forgotten. it’s hard to put into words exactly how i feel about you, even though we’ve never met. i feel my heart bend toward you more and more each day. i pray for you – wherever you are – that God would keep you safe and loved and somehow you would understand the absolute magic of us coming together.

that’s what it is, you know. magic.

i know there will be some brokenness involved. i know there will be moments where you wonder at your beginning. but know this :: this waiting period has revealed to me the goodness of One who knows and heals and makes right the broken pieces.

no one is ever left incomplete.

all we have to do is trust and believe.

this is where the magic begins my little love. mostly because there are moments where i don’t feel as if i trust and believe as i should, and yet He moves and heals me anyway. usually when i’m driving and see the sun creep over the distant hills, waking up as slow as possible, the oranges and pinks and yellows streaking across the night sky. this is when i remember the magic. this is when my heart starts beating a little quicker and my mind moves to you – and even now, even without knowing, i’m thankful.

so here i sit, listening to the morning wake up, and i know one thing more than any other :: we’re still waiting for you.

i love you, pumpkin,

mama.

In Letters

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 — Leave a comment

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.

In Faith

faith confessions

April 24, 2012 — 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 Faith