Psalmist

Last year for Bard’s birthday we took the girls on a family hike to my mountain.  It was an easy loop and a different view from what I’m used to, so that was fun.  I had checked the weather daily and knew it was a bit iffy but it looked promising when we started out so I wasn’t too worried.  About a mile in we heard it, the distant roar of thunder bouncing off the surrounding mountains thus hiding both its proximity and location.  And I was scared.  Not just worried but suddenly steeped in the strangling presence of fear. 

Get me off that mountain.  

Rationally I knew we were probably fine.  But I didn’t care.  I knew the thunder was far off.  But storms blow in fast.  I knew Bard was an experienced hiker, I could hold my own, and we weren’t that far from the trail head.  But we had the girls and I didn’t know for sure what was going to happen to us.  For every common sense thought that existed in my head, a nonsense thought full of emotion tried to pound it out. 

Since you didn’t see us on the news, you know we made it off just fine, and other than leaving Evelyn’s sneaker in the parking lot, we enjoyed a problem free day, complete with cupcakes and full of happy pictures.  But I will never forget standing on a precipice with my two young daughters and watching the storm clouds roll in, completely unable to know if the storm would hit us and what the damage would be to our family. 

I heard that same rumbling of thunder last week and could see storm clouds in the distance.  Or maybe not too far future.  I looked at our family pictures, climbing the stairs, and wondered what on earth were we doing and would we survive this storm.

I know who goes before me. I know who stands behind.

No, we don’t have travel dates yet, although fingers and toes are crossed for this week. And those dates will make a lot of imaginary moments very real.  But for every tearful, joyous, dreamed about moment I picture in my head, there is a panicky, questioning, want to see the ground beneath me before I step out in faith thought that tries to strangle my growing excitement.  Worry strangles joy.

The God of angel armies is always by my side.

I still don't know why our journey looks the way it does.  But I have a better idea now than I did even just a few months ago.  About a year ago, when were already in the midst of ups and downs, I started praying something quite ridiculous.  I knew we were in for it.  And I knew that was a bad thing for me!  If you don't know me very well, you might think I am a pessimist.  Because, if I have an idea-mine or someone else's-I play out all the options, good and bad.  But here's the thing, that doesn't stress me out, and in fact, I love it!  However, and this drives Bard crazy (maybe because it makes me difficult to live with but that is just a maybe), I will almost always assume the best option is the one that will play out.  I hope for the best, prepare for the worst. And honestly, best is under estimating-I will often be quite sure the most unrealistic and positive outcome is the one that will happen.  I walk through life disappointed ;) That can sometimes make me a teeny bit cranky.  Or a ranting lunatic, again, depends on your outlook!   Either way, it's a challenging perspective to have throughout an adoption when the reality is that the best outcome will likely take quite a while to form.

Let thy goodness like a fetter, bind thy wandering heart to me.

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love;

So I prayed. I knew I would get cross.   I knew I would be disappointed.  I just prayed I would return faster than normal.  That I would not get bogged down in discouragement, tangled up in anger, that I would fix my eyes, a tethered mind free from the lies.  Of course I am not sure I realized that learning how to bounce back requires being thrown down, over and over again.  But I don't think I care.

Here's my heart Lord, O take and seal it,

seal it for thy courts above.

Last week I saw that prayer answered.  Don't worry, there is nothing at all wrong with our adoption.  But we knew going into this that there would be known and unknown challenges we would face together.  There are no guarantees in adoption, there is a often corruption, we will be interacting with a foreign government, and there are a lot of potential problems that could cause roadblocks.  Bard and sat down a few days ago with lots of issues to talk through and lots of worries that were growing up around us.

Worry strangles joy.

We had spent all week with a clearer perspective of things that could go wrong and why they would do so.  We talked about worst case scenarios and slightly less than worst case scenarios.  We committed to being who we are, who we are meant to be, no matter what happens. And relief like a bubble burst out of me with a laugh.

Whatever will come our way, through fire or pouring rain,

We won't be shaken, no we won't be shaken

Even with two weeks of waiting to hear our travel dates, even with unknowns-and knowns-I felt good.  Don't get me wrong, I am antsy and under a lot of pressure.  Let's be honest, I am borderline psychotic by this point!  But I feel peace, even with a storm swirling around me.

Whatever tomorrow brings, together we'll rise and sing,

That we won't be shaken, no we won't be shaken.

For months now I've read daily from the old and new testament.  For months I've had a daily prayer time.  For months now, God has been saving up joy for me to experience when the world wants me to cling to worries.  Maybe this sounds crazy to you.  Maybe you think religion is a crutch.  Maybe it is.  Maybe you don't feel broken.

But if you have a convincing argument against there being an unacceptably painful amount of brokenness in this world, I'd love to hear it.

All this pain

I wonder if  I'll ever find my way

I wonder if my life could really change at all

All this earth

Could all that is lost ever be found

Could a garden come up from this ground at all

God has never stopped creating.  I was reminded of that yesterday at church.  He continues on through time, re shaping, making old into new, breathing life where there was death. He is an artist. This concept resonates with me because even though I am openly Type A and love details, sometimes I feel like I get put in a box, I'm not the "creative type."  I'm not a dreamer.

Bull****

Sorry :) I am a dancer!  I cannot watch anyone dance without re choreographing whatever it is they are doing.  I watch people and imagine how they would dance.  My passion for arts guided my college career and shapes my life even today.  Yes, I like routine, yes, schedules are just plain gorgeous.  But I love to dream.  And I dream big. Nothing is more exciting to me than chasing down a new idea and then making it look fabulous.  I constantly search and think, what can I do with that, what will make it beautiful?  I am an artist.  It's in my nature.  And that is why I can live with joy amidst the fear.  There will be brokenness over the next few months, decades.  There will be loss and grief, darkness, old, passing away.  But out of that old we can create something new. Hope.  Family. Beauty.

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of dust

You make beautiful things
                                                         You make beautiful things out of us

All around

Hope is springing up from this old ground

Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

Adoption Deets

Meeting the mayor at Summer Reading Club Awards Ceremony

When  I was a kid I used to go to the library every week, check out 10-12 books (as much as I could carry), read them, and then come back the next week for more.  I read all of Nancy Drew, Babysitters Club, Sweet Valley Twins, Anne of Green Gables, read them all again and more. Then when I was still in middle school and had read pretty much all the kids books I started on biographies-Shirley Temple Black, Catherine the Great, Queen Elizabeth, Corrie Ten Boom, General Custer, and so on and so forth.  Each summer I entered our library's reading club, finishing over a hundred books, reporting on them to librarians, and earning prizes.  This will be Evelyn's third summer and Cici's first in the same Summer Reading Club.  At the same libraries.  And yes, to some of the same librarians!

I've been writing this blog so we remember the story of our adoption and can look back on it, years from now.  Lately I've been thinking it reminds me of one of the books I used to read when I was a kid, Choose Your Own Adventure.  Except of course with adoptions you choose nothing, everything is chosen for you, like it or not!  Since we're getting ready to travel, I thought I'd share with you what our time in Ukraine will look like, with all the hilarious, aggravating, and unimaginably exhausting variables.

First up, SDA.  In (hopefully) a few weeks, likely on a Thursday, we'll get an email saying that the Ukrainian Adoption and Children's Rights department of the government (SDA) has processed our dossier and is issuing our appointment to come and formally request a child for adoption.  We will probably have 2-4 weeks travel notice (allowing 2 days for travel, arriving 4 days before appointment.)  So in just that first scenario there is about 5 weeks of wiggle room, different timelines, different adventures.  But regardless, we end up in July, preparing to travel and meet our little brother!

I'm not much of a waiter :) And even for just a normal trip if I'm not packed three days out, I start to feel a growing tightness in my chest. . . now I'm packing to move my entire family across the country for an unknown amount of time, let the Travel Olympics of 2014 begin!  Since I have fond memories of packing up entire Barbie dream houses for family camping trips and to this day have three separate word docs saved for camping trips, hotel trips, and girls' instructions, I feel that I have prepared my entire life for this moment!  Amazon shopping abounds, lists of lists are in my head and spilling out at Target, and I was even able to justify a new pair of shoes.  Of course once we actually have our date, the real madness will begin and I'm sure it will be a whirlwind few weeks of excitement meeting chaos, with a crash of tears and perhaps sobbing thrown in, just for fun.  Add to list-schedule massage for Kristin, buy beer for Bard.

Now, let's throw another adventure in the mix, although this one we do choose-for better or for worse.  What about our girls?  At this point we are planning for them to travel with us-and very much hope that they can come and be part of meeting baby brother for the first time.  However, Ukraine has been a bit. . .how to put it. . .unpredictable/Putin tried to follow me around the world and ruin my adoptions. . .The SDA is no longer doing referrals to the Eastern regions which have seen the most (Russian influenced) violence.  We've talked to many, many people who are there now or have been there within the past 3 months and it has been totally safe for them.  So, we feel pretty good, but of course, if we were worried, we would leave the girls here with my family, Bard's family, random people we've met on the street, and go on our own.  That would be devastating-and a bit of a planning nightmare-so I breathe a little easier with every positive report out of Ukraine.

Now we're ready!  Traveling across the world with two children under the age of 6 for 19 hours goes beautifully and we land in Kyiv.  We're met by facilitators from our agency who have arranged anything and everything we may need-drivers, translators, tours, phones, hotels, apartments, chocolates.  Just kidding, I'll bring my own Cadbury eggs . . .don't believe me?!  We'll probably arrive on a Friday or Saturday and have our appointment with SDA on a Monday or Tuesday.  How do I know all these certain days of the weeks but no actual helpful information?  Don't ask, but on a totally unrelated note, are you familiar at all with Soviet bureaucracy?  We'll go to our appointment, at a small non descript government building next door to a huge and elaborate orthodox church.  Yep, I've seen many pictures.  And soon you will too. :)

All our eggs in one basket. . .

Now here's where I really start folding the pages of the book-you know, mark the place where you chose to go one way so if you end up dead (okay, they were kind of scary books!) you can come back and choose again.  We'll meet an SDA official who will give us an official referral.  Our home study is pretty specific about who we can and can't adopt, and our facilitators will be supporting this process, but I have read horror stories so this part is a bit worrisome.  You know, like a flood combined with an earthquake combined with a tornado; a floquakeado, is worrisome.  If for some reason we're presented  with a child who is completely outside of our bounds, there are infamous binders.  In which case we sit down and pore over children who are available for adoption.  That sounds like an honest to goodness nightmare to me and I please, please, please don't want to go through that excruciating process!  Worst case scenario we don't find any child, our time is up, and we have to make another appointment-for a week later. Please do not complain about US bureaucracy.

But, let's hope for the best and go to our next fork in the road.  Where is our child?  The closer he is to Kyiv, the better, in Kyiv would be absolutely beyond phenomenal.  It would way cut down on our travel time, Kyiv is a modern European city so not only would we get to experience its beauty, but we would have access to anything we would want, easily.  Of course, it's more expensive to stay there, but I have grown so good at spending money lately, just ask Amazon!

Then, I go meet my son.

First coordinating outfits.  And nope, joke's on you-this was all Bard!

After a few days or so of long awaited bliss. We accept the referral (after having sent his medical file off to the international adoption clinic and exchanging several emails, Skype calls, photos, videos, and MY TRUST.)  Then the next adventure.  When do we meet with the judge?  One week?  Two weeks?  Three weeks?  Four weeks?  I've read about all those variables in the past four months.  That brings up another major decision, if it's far out, do we stay and wait or do we go home?  Do we all go home or do I stay by myself or with one child?  Can I leave my son behind and return to normal, like my heart wasn't just melted into his little fingers?

I don't know.  But eventually we go before a judge, make a statement, answer some questions and wait to see if he rules in our favor.  (By the way, there are countless other adventures here-is the child's Ukrainian family involved at all, do other documents need to be procured-for him or for us, additional travel, etc.)   Then another adventure, there is typically a ten day waiting period before the adoption is finalized.  Sometimes, for various reasons, the waiting period is waived.  Would I like our waiting period waived?  Yes, please!  Oh, right, bureaucracy :/

Once the adoption is final we do another bit of a mad scramble to get all the documents he needs to leave the country-new birth certificate, visa, passport, medical forms, library card, whatever.  Again, that can take days or weeks!  Throughout the whole process we are relying a lot on our facilitator to walk us through this maze.  Weird.  No one walked us through getting our first two kids. . .

Then, finally, after nearly two years, and hopefully before my hair is completely gray (oh wait. . .) we're done! We-obviously-will have only booked one way tickets to Ukraine, so me, small fry, and whoever else happens to still be with me at that point books the first plane outta there! I'm sure a 19 hour plane ride with a small child who doesn't speak English and has never been in a car, much less a metal roaring tube, will go by in the blink of an eye.  But who cares, because we touch down, he is an American citizen, and we are home.

Then, it doesn't matter if all the choices were opposite of what mine would have been and I had to go back and start over a million times.  Because I know the end of the book, and it's worth it, every bit.

I Will Not Wait

One January night in 2004 I sat sleepless in my bed. My first marriage was officially over and I no longer recognized my own life.  Surprised that I went through a divorce?  So was I. The explanation behind that bewildering mess is for another time, but suffice to say I was suddenly facing a huge unknown.  Friends, who knew all I had been through, tried to be kind, "You're young, you'll find someone else, at least you didn't have children."  Well meaning but meaningless because for months I had been grieving the loss of those very same dreams.  There were no guarantees and I had to accept that fact or live in misery.  So  I was just a bit shocked when in an instant, as I was sitting in the dark, peace like a river washed over me.

Why?

Shadows on the wall

Noises down the hall

Life doesn't frighten me at all

 

Bad dogs barking loud

Big ghosts in a cloud

Life doesn't frighten me at all

 

 

In the blink of an eye, months of anxiety and grief sloughed off my soul as I remembered that I had nothing to fear. No, I was not healed of my past but I was reminded that I had a future.  I was reminded of redemption.  I was reminded of truth, of hope, of all things working together...

 

 

Mean old Mother Goose

Lions on the loose

Life doesn't frighten me at all

 

Dragons breathing flame

On my counterpane

Life doesn't frighten me at all

 

 

Yes, I still dreamt of walking down the aisle, I still longed to be a mom but instead of clinging to my dreams I loosened my grip and just enjoyed them. I was done waiting and I started trusting.  For too many years I had fought  hard and lost-or won-the battle over control. I tried to live out the life I thought I wanted but by forcing my own story I re wrote the fairy tale and the Beast ended up just being, well, a beast.

 

 

I'm an empty page

I'm an open book

Write your story on my heart

Come on and make Your mark

 

 

Fast forward ten years. . .My life is the very picture of redemption.  My dreams have been bought back and built up ten times over. I have many moments where I step back, look at my life, and honestly could not imagine it being any more perfect.  Of course then one of my picture perfect children decides to open her mouth and we go downhill from there but I enjoy the moment while it lasts!

 

I go boo

Make them shoo

I make fun

Way they run

I won't cry

So they fly

I just smile

They go wild

 

 

I just smile, They go wild

 

Maya Angelou was phenomenally brilliant.  She knew what was behind her smile.  She had joy and she lived it out completely, to the full. 

 

It's been hard to smile lately.  Too much waiting. So instead of going wild, my fears have been running wild.  But at some point last week that started to change.  At first I chose to fear the change as well.  Maybe I only felt better because things were finally seeming to go better.  Maybe I am a fair weather fearer.  We finally submitted our dossier, officially, to the Ukrainian government.  So for the first time in 18 months our adoption had finally made it to a foreign country.  Miracle number one.  And, amazingly, tensions were easing in Ukraine, elections went well and Putin was pulling back his storm troopers.  Miracle number two. But maybe things would go bad again and I would despair.

 

Or maybe I could face my fears, see them for what they were, loosen my hold, and just enjoy my dream.

 

 

Don't show me frogs and snakes

And listen for my scream

If I'm afraid at all

It's only in my dreams

 

I've got a magic charm

That I keep up my sleeve

I can walk the ocean floor

And never have to breathe

Life doesn't frighten me at all

Not at all

Not at all

 

 

Wednesday I was driving across the bridge and I felt my life open up before me. There was no need to wait, it was time to live.  I feel like time has sped up.  Realistically I don't think we'll travel before mid July.  But  our agency wants us to be ready by end of June, their last family had one month between submission to SDA and their appointment, in Kyiv, to officially be referred to their child.  We submitted May 29th. The clock has started and so I decided to do what most people would do:  arrange house sitters, make dentist appointments, purchase luggage, plan internet and cell usage while in country, coordinate yard work, discuss plans for the girls, call about a hair appointment (I can't get a referral to meet my third child with all the gray from my first two children showing!), look up flights, book one summer camp for Evelyn, start a new job, find out about car seats, and buy a Ukrainian t shirt.  That was Friday.  No need to wonder why my hair turns gray!

 

I believe there is purpose in waiting.  But waiting itself is not the purpose. Life, in the full. Now I'm alive, and living the life I am meant to live.

 

 

Author of my hope

Maker of the stars

Let me be Your work of art

Won't you write Your story on my heart