I've been doing a lot of reading lately. A few days ago I stumbled upon an incredible blog written by another adoptive mama. I've had a lot to catch up on in her story, and I've gained tons of insight from her already. In fact, that is what I want to talk about right now. Most recently I read a post entitled, "Jesus is the Prize, or the Orphan is the Idol". Wow! The title really grabs you huh? I know it grabbed me. I've been thinking about it off and on all day, pondering if she was describing me or not. I would love to say not but, I don't think I can. You see, I have to confess that I have spent more time on facebook stalking for pictures, searching for a glimpse into her past and present; more time googling GVCM and watching Youtube videos......than I have spent in prayer for my daughter. There. I said it. The ugly truth. I have made Maphada the prize, I have made her an idol in my world. In doing so I have neglected the most important relationship I will ever have, the only real constant in my life. I have become so wrapped up in her, in imagining life with her, spending countless hours daydreaming and romanticizing what it will be like to have her home...... All time that I could have spent drawing closer to my Heavenly Father, the One who loves her best. I have not done this intentionally. Surfing the internet, stalking facebook, and reading blogs are all things I do to feel like I am doing something. This process has left me feeling so utterly and completely helpless, and it would seem that I have fought against that feeling, instead of embracing it, learning from it, and gaining strength from my God. Sure, I've had my moments, He hasn't let me wander too far. I wouldn't still be here fighting for her if He hadn't sustained me, if I hadn't called out to Him to keep me afloat as I tread these tumultuous waters. It's just that I was really struck by one of the comments in her blog and how accurate it was. She listed the outcomes of making the orphan an idol, one of which was burnout and the desire to quit. I haven't shared this with very many people, but this last trip was particularly gruesome. I found myself feeling like I was running out of steam. I found myself asking how much more of this I could take? How many more times can my heart handle leaving her tear-stained face behind? I found myself wanting the pain to just end. Now. We all know the only way the pain could stop now is if I quit, and quitting is not an option! At all. But the thought crossed my mind, and it terrified me. Anyway, the point is, I've experienced that feeling, as well as a few others that made her list, and when I read it earlier today I realized the cause. I have lost sight of what this is really about. I have lost sight of the ultimate prize. My Jesus. Jesus is the prize. He is the reason we fight for her. This is all about Him and what He purposes to do in her life, in mine, and in the life of our family.
So, the way I see it, I can take door number one and keep stalking facebook, keep scouring the web for news, keep googling GVCM and basically driving myself crazy...... or...... I can take door number two and turn my eyes upon Jesus, tirelessly pursuing my Savior, becoming the faithful believer I soooo want to be, the wife and mother I need to be for my family as it exists in this moment, as well as how it will exist in the future.
And, as long as we are being totally honest with each other, I must also confess my obsession with facebook comments. I have desperately needed the encouragement of friends and family, which is okay without the desperation factor. It is so comforting to know we have friends and family praying for us faithfully, and painful to me when those who I thought were walking along side us stop participating in any way. The hurt turns to anger and it poisons relationships. What is that about? It's hard to navigate the social aspects of our world now with facebook and myspace, bloggers and instagram. I can see when friends are online, when a post about laundry soap gets more traffic than a post about my daughter. It hurts. But once again that is just me making this process about me and about Maphada, instead of keeping my eyes on the ultimate prize. I am learning a lot about myself in this process. I hope I come out on the other side a more accurate reflection of Christ who lives in me, instead of the hot mess I feel like right now.
*Okay, I think I've had enough transparency for one night. Just in case you are wondering where all this honesty came from, you can thank my friend Andy, :)
**For those of you who want to follow the story of the other adoptive mama, her blog is entitled "This Poetic Present", and she is a much better writer than I am! Thank you Cindy, for sharing your heart and helping me see deeper into my own!
***And please, someone tell me I am not the only obsessive facebook comment psycho!!! ;)
Goodnight friends! Thanks for reading...
7.08.2012
I see her everywhere...
Today has been all kinds of awful. Yesterday, with one breathtakingly beautiful chocolate exception, was one of those picture perfect kind of days filled with family, friends, food, fun and even fireworks. Gee, that is a lot of F's. Anyway, whatever yesterday was, today has been the exact opposite. Birthday party, pity party...doesn't matter. I can pull off both rather well. In today's defense, I should say that the first taste of awful actually took place yesterday, in Burger's Lake, ten feet from a diving board. I was trying to keep track of 7 kiddos, all determined to make it to the diving board first, when my eyes met hers, I mean his, and instantly filled with stinging tears. This adorable little boy had eyes exactly like hers, same shape, same darkness, so deep, and soulful. I felt like I had been punched in the chest. I pulled myself back to reality, forced myself to turn my gaze away from those eyes and focus on the laughter and excitement of the kiddos I was in charge of...only to be faced with a little girl about her age, with the same beautiful complexion, same size and walk, jumping off of the diving board and kicking her little legs up in the same way I've watched Maphada kick her little legs up dozens of times. Why? Why did I have to see that? I try really hard not to question God's timing with the adoption. I truly and sincerely trust Him and His plan for this journey. It is the only think keeping me sane! But why, oh why do I have to see her everywhere while I wait? It is so painful. I guess that's how it goes when you've spent hours pouring over pictures, memorizing every aspect of someone's face and profile???
Anyway, moving on to today. I have to confess, I more or less just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I was up for 31 hours straight before dozing a bit in the car and then finally falling into bed at midnight last night. With another 12 hour shift ahead of me and a completely destroyed house on my hands, I felt completely exhausted (and super sensitive) before the day even started. While washing one of approximately one hundred dishes, with the help of my sweet neice Rylee :), my phone vibrates letting me know I have been tagged in a picture. I open my facebook app and am greeted with a picture of my sweet Maphada and the smiling face of my friend Jackie who was just in Haiti on a medical mission trip. While at the orphanage she loved on my girl and took a few pictures for me. I am so thankful for those pictures! Although I have to say, I totally have a love/hate relationship with them. I love seeing her, seeing her smile, seeing her healthy...I hate not seeing all of those things in person, not being able scoop her up into my arms and hear her and smell her as well. So once again I find myself with stinging tears in my eyes, feeling as if I've been punched in the chest, and that's not the worst part...
I am so mad at myself for not planning better, for not thinking of what Maphada's reaction to Jackie and her team would be, for not preparing her little heart in some way. You see, n the day the team left for Haiti it occured to me that I had been a part of the last two medical trips Jackie had been on. I wondered if Maphada would see Jackie and think "yay, my Mama is here!" and proceed to look for me among the unfamiliar faces on the team. I sent Jackie a message to see how she was doing but facebook is really whacky in Haiti and she didn't get the message at the time. It wasn't until today that she responded, confirming my fears. She said that Maphada did seem to wonder where I was, that she completely avoided them the first few days, that she had to chase her down to take that first picture. It wasn't until she told her the picture was for Mama Maphada that she smiled and warmed up to her. Jackie told me that the last few days she hung around more and seemed to be okay. Oh how I wish I had thought to prepare her, to let her know I wouldn't be there. It is so hard to know what she is thinking most of the time, to even attempt to anticipate her feelings and reactions to things. I hate knowing I could have lessened the hurt of this experience for her. Throughout this journey I have prayed that God would allow each day to pass in a pleasant routine for her, that time would move quickly, that she wouldn't hurt and long for us like we do for her. I pray that when she thinks of us it brings a smile to her face, a warmth to her heart knowing she is loved, knowing she has a family waiting for her. Don't get me wrong, I want her to want to be with us, but not for that desire to be painful for her, if that makes sense. Anyway, it's just been a rough day thinking of my precious little girl, the time we've missed already with countless days still to come, no idea of when she will be home. Please, if you are reading this, pray for her heart, pray for mine, her papa's, her brother's. Pray for our journey to come to a joyful end really soon. Aside from simply pressing in to my Savior and standing on His promises, the prayers and encouragement of our family and friends are the only thing getting us through this process. We miss her and need her here so badly.
Thank you,
Mama Maphada
Anyway, moving on to today. I have to confess, I more or less just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I was up for 31 hours straight before dozing a bit in the car and then finally falling into bed at midnight last night. With another 12 hour shift ahead of me and a completely destroyed house on my hands, I felt completely exhausted (and super sensitive) before the day even started. While washing one of approximately one hundred dishes, with the help of my sweet neice Rylee :), my phone vibrates letting me know I have been tagged in a picture. I open my facebook app and am greeted with a picture of my sweet Maphada and the smiling face of my friend Jackie who was just in Haiti on a medical mission trip. While at the orphanage she loved on my girl and took a few pictures for me. I am so thankful for those pictures! Although I have to say, I totally have a love/hate relationship with them. I love seeing her, seeing her smile, seeing her healthy...I hate not seeing all of those things in person, not being able scoop her up into my arms and hear her and smell her as well. So once again I find myself with stinging tears in my eyes, feeling as if I've been punched in the chest, and that's not the worst part...
I am so mad at myself for not planning better, for not thinking of what Maphada's reaction to Jackie and her team would be, for not preparing her little heart in some way. You see, n the day the team left for Haiti it occured to me that I had been a part of the last two medical trips Jackie had been on. I wondered if Maphada would see Jackie and think "yay, my Mama is here!" and proceed to look for me among the unfamiliar faces on the team. I sent Jackie a message to see how she was doing but facebook is really whacky in Haiti and she didn't get the message at the time. It wasn't until today that she responded, confirming my fears. She said that Maphada did seem to wonder where I was, that she completely avoided them the first few days, that she had to chase her down to take that first picture. It wasn't until she told her the picture was for Mama Maphada that she smiled and warmed up to her. Jackie told me that the last few days she hung around more and seemed to be okay. Oh how I wish I had thought to prepare her, to let her know I wouldn't be there. It is so hard to know what she is thinking most of the time, to even attempt to anticipate her feelings and reactions to things. I hate knowing I could have lessened the hurt of this experience for her. Throughout this journey I have prayed that God would allow each day to pass in a pleasant routine for her, that time would move quickly, that she wouldn't hurt and long for us like we do for her. I pray that when she thinks of us it brings a smile to her face, a warmth to her heart knowing she is loved, knowing she has a family waiting for her. Don't get me wrong, I want her to want to be with us, but not for that desire to be painful for her, if that makes sense. Anyway, it's just been a rough day thinking of my precious little girl, the time we've missed already with countless days still to come, no idea of when she will be home. Please, if you are reading this, pray for her heart, pray for mine, her papa's, her brother's. Pray for our journey to come to a joyful end really soon. Aside from simply pressing in to my Savior and standing on His promises, the prayers and encouragement of our family and friends are the only thing getting us through this process. We miss her and need her here so badly.
Thank you,
Mama Maphada
6.30.2012
A Momma's Heart
June is a big month for our family. First we celebrate the anniversary of our marriage, then Dabby's Day rolls around, and, drumroll please, we celebrate the birth of our two beautiful, amazing children...who just so happen to live in different countries. With it following so closely on the heels of my seventh trip to Haiti, June 2012 was no exception to the typical emotions this month brings to our year, it just threw in a few dozen extra! My heart has navigated through more raw, human emotions than one would think is possible in the last four weeks.
Well, not to be outdone by June 10th, 17th, 21st, or 27th, June 29th sauntered in with its own brand of emotional highs and lows. You see, tonight was our son's very first performing program of any kind. Being homeschooled, he hasn't had many opportunities to participate in these types of things. It was rather last minute, but fortunately for me, I work with some of the best people in the world. A day shift nurse agreed to flex shifts with me so I wouldn't have to miss this moment in my son's life. I will be forever grateful to her because I think a small part of my soul would have died to have missed my son's performance and all of his goofy, adorable antics on the stage. I sat there in the crowd feeling so proud, so honored to be his momma, so blessed to call him my son. He was full of energy and spunk, his dramatic hand motions and uber expressive face have me thinking I have got to get this kid into some drama classes! Anyway, I digress... I sat there with a heart so full I thought it would explode, eyes totally riveted on his every movement, every expression, oblivious to all of the other children around him. Happy tears filled my eyes as I watched this little piece of me and Chris up on the stage, singing his heart out to our Lord and Savior. Suddenly, my vision changed and I wasn't oblivious to the other children anymore. I sat there thinking how great it was that all of these children had people in the crowd who loved them and where there just for them, just to marvel at the little people they are and who they will one day become. London had his parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and his aunt and uncle and cousins there to watch him, to participate in something that was important to him and his little soul. My heart was so full. On one hand I felt like it would burst with joy...but on the other, it was equally filled with sorrow.
Here's the thing. These moments are never complete for me anymore. Life after Maphada, life after Haiti, life after loving dozens of orphaned children just isn't the same as it was before. My heart dwells in two very different places. I feel split in two most of the time. Life here is so vastly different. I sat there thinking how sad it is, how incredibly wrong it is, that thousands of children in the world have never experienced a moment like that, a moment that is just for them, a moment where people show up...just for them. Thousands of children die every day because of starvation and thirst. Thousands more die of malaria, a preventable and treatable disease! Others waste away in institutions, never knowing the love of a family, listlessly waiting for someone to show up. The problem is so huge, so unfathomable, where do we even begin? Oh how I long to make a difference for the orphans in this world! How I long to show up! I don't know exactly how to do that but I am hoping I figure it out.
In the meantime I pray for their little souls, for their broken hearts...
Well, not to be outdone by June 10th, 17th, 21st, or 27th, June 29th sauntered in with its own brand of emotional highs and lows. You see, tonight was our son's very first performing program of any kind. Being homeschooled, he hasn't had many opportunities to participate in these types of things. It was rather last minute, but fortunately for me, I work with some of the best people in the world. A day shift nurse agreed to flex shifts with me so I wouldn't have to miss this moment in my son's life. I will be forever grateful to her because I think a small part of my soul would have died to have missed my son's performance and all of his goofy, adorable antics on the stage. I sat there in the crowd feeling so proud, so honored to be his momma, so blessed to call him my son. He was full of energy and spunk, his dramatic hand motions and uber expressive face have me thinking I have got to get this kid into some drama classes! Anyway, I digress... I sat there with a heart so full I thought it would explode, eyes totally riveted on his every movement, every expression, oblivious to all of the other children around him. Happy tears filled my eyes as I watched this little piece of me and Chris up on the stage, singing his heart out to our Lord and Savior. Suddenly, my vision changed and I wasn't oblivious to the other children anymore. I sat there thinking how great it was that all of these children had people in the crowd who loved them and where there just for them, just to marvel at the little people they are and who they will one day become. London had his parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and his aunt and uncle and cousins there to watch him, to participate in something that was important to him and his little soul. My heart was so full. On one hand I felt like it would burst with joy...but on the other, it was equally filled with sorrow.
Here's the thing. These moments are never complete for me anymore. Life after Maphada, life after Haiti, life after loving dozens of orphaned children just isn't the same as it was before. My heart dwells in two very different places. I feel split in two most of the time. Life here is so vastly different. I sat there thinking how sad it is, how incredibly wrong it is, that thousands of children in the world have never experienced a moment like that, a moment that is just for them, a moment where people show up...just for them. Thousands of children die every day because of starvation and thirst. Thousands more die of malaria, a preventable and treatable disease! Others waste away in institutions, never knowing the love of a family, listlessly waiting for someone to show up. The problem is so huge, so unfathomable, where do we even begin? Oh how I long to make a difference for the orphans in this world! How I long to show up! I don't know exactly how to do that but I am hoping I figure it out.
In the meantime I pray for their little souls, for their broken hearts...
that the Lord will keep their lamps brightly burning,
that our God will turn their darkness into light.
Psalm 18:28
6.21.2012
Birthdays and countdowns...
So, in an effort to be totally transparent, I am going to share some not so flattering details of my day today...
First of all, I slept in to a ridiculously late hour, 1:15 I think... The first thing I did was check facebook. Like I said, these details are not pretty and I am embarrassed to admit that checking facebook first thing is not at all unusual for me. I am an addict. Where were we? Oh yes, facebook. The first post I see is from a fellow adoptive mama cheerfully posting details of what this day means for her family, counting the days, the 4 month anniversary of bringing her adorable baby girls home from Haiti, followed by an equally adorable homecoming video. She had no way of knowing what this day meant for my family...and she is not responsible for the emotions I felt in seeing her post. Don't get me wrong, I am happy for her. Happy for what it means to her family, as well as filled with hope for what it will one day mean for mine. It just wasn't a good day. We are counting too. Today is Maphada's 9th birthday. We have celebrated three birthdays with her so far. Three. Last year I posted a sweet pic of Markes taking her out for ice cream on her 8th birthday. Someone commented asking how long it would be until we could bring her home. Naively, I replied that best case scenario she would be home by Christmas, but hopefully at least before her next birthday. Well, here it is. And here she isn't.
Lately I've been answering the above question with something similar, "Best case scenario she will be home by Christmas, if everything goes absolutely perfectly from this point on". Why do I keep doing this to myself? I have no idea when she will be home!!!! NONE!!! I am constantly fighting to keep my sanity, to maintain a sense of peace, to cling to God's promises when it feels like it will never happen. So, today has not been pretty. I have wept, I have questioned, I have prayed, I have searched, I have been angry, I have been numb, I have been lonely, I have been heartbroken, I have thrown one heck of a pity party...and I have scolded myself for all of the above.
Where is my faith? Where is my trust? Do I really believe God is who He says He is? Do I believe He loves me? Do I believe He loves her? Of course, the answer is YES. I do believe God is who He says He is, that He loves me, that He loves her (more than I do). I believe He has a purpose in the wait, that He is molding us and stretching us to make us stronger...because this gut wrenching wait is only half of the battle. We will have so many challenges once she is home. This little girl I love so much is basically a stranger. Yes we've traveled seven times to see her, we've caught little glimpses of who she is, but we have yet to see and understand the complete canvas of her heart. I romanticize the process and say things like "I love everything about her", "I wouldn't change anything about who she is", etc. when in reality I barely know her. And that's okay, because the truth in those statements is that I choose to love her, and will always choose to love her, no matter what we learn about her once she is home. So with tears in my eyes, more questions than answers in my heart, I wish my beautiful baby girl a
First of all, I slept in to a ridiculously late hour, 1:15 I think... The first thing I did was check facebook. Like I said, these details are not pretty and I am embarrassed to admit that checking facebook first thing is not at all unusual for me. I am an addict. Where were we? Oh yes, facebook. The first post I see is from a fellow adoptive mama cheerfully posting details of what this day means for her family, counting the days, the 4 month anniversary of bringing her adorable baby girls home from Haiti, followed by an equally adorable homecoming video. She had no way of knowing what this day meant for my family...and she is not responsible for the emotions I felt in seeing her post. Don't get me wrong, I am happy for her. Happy for what it means to her family, as well as filled with hope for what it will one day mean for mine. It just wasn't a good day. We are counting too. Today is Maphada's 9th birthday. We have celebrated three birthdays with her so far. Three. Last year I posted a sweet pic of Markes taking her out for ice cream on her 8th birthday. Someone commented asking how long it would be until we could bring her home. Naively, I replied that best case scenario she would be home by Christmas, but hopefully at least before her next birthday. Well, here it is. And here she isn't.
Lately I've been answering the above question with something similar, "Best case scenario she will be home by Christmas, if everything goes absolutely perfectly from this point on". Why do I keep doing this to myself? I have no idea when she will be home!!!! NONE!!! I am constantly fighting to keep my sanity, to maintain a sense of peace, to cling to God's promises when it feels like it will never happen. So, today has not been pretty. I have wept, I have questioned, I have prayed, I have searched, I have been angry, I have been numb, I have been lonely, I have been heartbroken, I have thrown one heck of a pity party...and I have scolded myself for all of the above.
Where is my faith? Where is my trust? Do I really believe God is who He says He is? Do I believe He loves me? Do I believe He loves her? Of course, the answer is YES. I do believe God is who He says He is, that He loves me, that He loves her (more than I do). I believe He has a purpose in the wait, that He is molding us and stretching us to make us stronger...because this gut wrenching wait is only half of the battle. We will have so many challenges once she is home. This little girl I love so much is basically a stranger. Yes we've traveled seven times to see her, we've caught little glimpses of who she is, but we have yet to see and understand the complete canvas of her heart. I romanticize the process and say things like "I love everything about her", "I wouldn't change anything about who she is", etc. when in reality I barely know her. And that's okay, because the truth in those statements is that I choose to love her, and will always choose to love her, no matter what we learn about her once she is home. So with tears in my eyes, more questions than answers in my heart, I wish my beautiful baby girl a
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
BONNE FETE!!!
JOYEUX ANIVERSAIRE!!!
And on a happier note... WE JUST SKYPED WITH MAPHADA!!! Mesi Jezi! A beautiful end to a very trying day. Choosing to believe God is good. All the time. Loving a beautiful little girl in Haiti with all of our hearts...
5.08.2012
Retail therapy...not so much
We went shopping for our baby girl tonight. Every once in awhile, when I feel like I will suffocate from the pain of waiting, I convince myself that shopping for her will make me feel better. Jokingly, I told my husband I needed a little retail therapy because I miss her so much. Silly I know, but sometimes it does make me feel a teensy bit better. I feel like I am doing something, participating in her life in a small way.
Well, tonight didn't really go as planned. Sure, we bought a cute outfit for her to wear, we found a couple of t-shirts and her dabby picked out a pair of flip-flops...and that's when it all began to fall apart for me, the fantasy that I was in. This happy little bubble, shopping for my daughter as if she were going to be home in a matter of days. You see, the first time I went shopping for my sweet Maphada, I purchased 4T shirts and shorts. Her first flip-flops were a 12/13. Tonight, we bought size 6-7 clothes and 3/4 flip-flops. It was painful to pick those up and see how very big they are. Maphada will be 9 in June. 9... Chris changed the subject, London pointed out a silly hat, and I shook myself out of my funk and we continued on with the rest of our evening, completing our purchases and driving home.
But wait, we need milk and bread at the store. So, we pile out of the truck again and go in Wal-Mart. And who do I see, standing up on little tippy-toes reaching for the apples? Of course it's an adorable 2-year old with a poof ponytail, a little black beauty, so pick-up-able, so snug-able, so not almost 9 years old. I can't really describe the conflicting emotions that hit me like a load of bricks when I see my M in another little girls face, particularly when that little girl is a toddler. You can ask anyone, with London, I did not want to miss. a. thing. After working a 12 hour shift all night, with very little sleep the day before, I would drive to my mom's house right after work to pick up my baby boy because I couldn't stand the thought of missing a single moment more than was necessary. So yes, I cringe inside whenever I allow myself to stop and think of Maphada as a baby, a toddler, of everything I have missed with her. So mostly I just don't think about it.
Then there is the flip side of it all. I love Maphada with all my heart. I love her very being. I would not change a single detail about her. She would not be who she is right now if she had come to us as a 2 year old. When I first met my beautiful M, she was quiet and shy with an awkward smile, very unsure of herself and what I was all about. Now she is every bit as beautiful, full of joy and spunk, with an adorable little bounce in her step now that she knows what I am all about. I cannot wait to see her again in two weeks. I CANNOT WAIT TO BRING HER HOME! Oh how I love our little M.Jade!
So...it turns out that retail therapy isn't all that therapeutic, but love is, and the God who controls it all loves her even more than I do, so what do I have to fear?
Well, tonight didn't really go as planned. Sure, we bought a cute outfit for her to wear, we found a couple of t-shirts and her dabby picked out a pair of flip-flops...and that's when it all began to fall apart for me, the fantasy that I was in. This happy little bubble, shopping for my daughter as if she were going to be home in a matter of days. You see, the first time I went shopping for my sweet Maphada, I purchased 4T shirts and shorts. Her first flip-flops were a 12/13. Tonight, we bought size 6-7 clothes and 3/4 flip-flops. It was painful to pick those up and see how very big they are. Maphada will be 9 in June. 9... Chris changed the subject, London pointed out a silly hat, and I shook myself out of my funk and we continued on with the rest of our evening, completing our purchases and driving home.
But wait, we need milk and bread at the store. So, we pile out of the truck again and go in Wal-Mart. And who do I see, standing up on little tippy-toes reaching for the apples? Of course it's an adorable 2-year old with a poof ponytail, a little black beauty, so pick-up-able, so snug-able, so not almost 9 years old. I can't really describe the conflicting emotions that hit me like a load of bricks when I see my M in another little girls face, particularly when that little girl is a toddler. You can ask anyone, with London, I did not want to miss. a. thing. After working a 12 hour shift all night, with very little sleep the day before, I would drive to my mom's house right after work to pick up my baby boy because I couldn't stand the thought of missing a single moment more than was necessary. So yes, I cringe inside whenever I allow myself to stop and think of Maphada as a baby, a toddler, of everything I have missed with her. So mostly I just don't think about it.
Then there is the flip side of it all. I love Maphada with all my heart. I love her very being. I would not change a single detail about her. She would not be who she is right now if she had come to us as a 2 year old. When I first met my beautiful M, she was quiet and shy with an awkward smile, very unsure of herself and what I was all about. Now she is every bit as beautiful, full of joy and spunk, with an adorable little bounce in her step now that she knows what I am all about. I cannot wait to see her again in two weeks. I CANNOT WAIT TO BRING HER HOME! Oh how I love our little M.Jade!
So...it turns out that retail therapy isn't all that therapeutic, but love is, and the God who controls it all loves her even more than I do, so what do I have to fear?
Our tiny tot Maphada,
Fingers in her mouth as always,
Sporting the purple seersucker.
4.01.2012
Trampolines and butterflies
I am always hesitant to share my heart so completely, to share what belongs to me and my sweet girl, but my heart is so full right now, and it helps to know my friends and family can see a glimpse of where I am in this journey, to know how to pray for us, so here it goes...
Today is Palm Sunday. I just came inside after spending some time lying out on the trampoline with your Dabby and London. I laid there, staring up at the beautiful trees all around me, watching the breath of God move through the leaves, the branches waving at me, the half moon growing brighter and brighter in the evening sky, the shades of blue going on forever and ever…and suddenly there were two butterflies fluttering and flying overhead and I felt you had joined me there, in a small way. Dearest, sweetest Maphada, I miss you so much! My heart hurts at the thought of you, at all of the precious moments we are missing with you. You will be 9 years old in June. 9. I think of all of the steps yet to be completed in your adoption and I have to stop around 3 or 4 because it is too painful to think about. I pray that you are blissfully unaware of what is left, that each day passes with a comfortable rhythm, school, jumping rope, singing, playing with your friends. I hope that when you think of us it is with a sense of hope and happiness, a sense of thankfulness that God brought our lives together.
Today is Palm Sunday. I am thinking of you, so many miles away… I am thinking of Jesus, riding into Jerusalem on a colt, listening to the people shouting “Hosanna, Hosanna” welcoming their king, knowing all the time that those same voices would be shouting “Crucify him, Crucify him” in only a matter of days… I am thinking that I claim His truth in my life, I profess my love for Him, my faith in Him… So I will not speak two different things, I will not lessen the beauty of His plan by contradicting who He is with pain and questions… He is a God who sent His one and only Son to die for us, He is a God who makes all things new, a God who makes beauty from ashes… He will bring you home. And I will wait in patience, praising Him all the while, no questions, just hope, happiness, and thankfulness that He gave me you. Sweet, precious, adorable, you.
Sweetest dreams, Maphada Jade Hutton. We love you so deeply. We will never give up. Thank you Father, for my beautiful butterfly… xoxoxo!!!
Today is Palm Sunday. I just came inside after spending some time lying out on the trampoline with your Dabby and London. I laid there, staring up at the beautiful trees all around me, watching the breath of God move through the leaves, the branches waving at me, the half moon growing brighter and brighter in the evening sky, the shades of blue going on forever and ever…and suddenly there were two butterflies fluttering and flying overhead and I felt you had joined me there, in a small way. Dearest, sweetest Maphada, I miss you so much! My heart hurts at the thought of you, at all of the precious moments we are missing with you. You will be 9 years old in June. 9. I think of all of the steps yet to be completed in your adoption and I have to stop around 3 or 4 because it is too painful to think about. I pray that you are blissfully unaware of what is left, that each day passes with a comfortable rhythm, school, jumping rope, singing, playing with your friends. I hope that when you think of us it is with a sense of hope and happiness, a sense of thankfulness that God brought our lives together.
Today is Palm Sunday. I am thinking of you, so many miles away… I am thinking of Jesus, riding into Jerusalem on a colt, listening to the people shouting “Hosanna, Hosanna” welcoming their king, knowing all the time that those same voices would be shouting “Crucify him, Crucify him” in only a matter of days… I am thinking that I claim His truth in my life, I profess my love for Him, my faith in Him… So I will not speak two different things, I will not lessen the beauty of His plan by contradicting who He is with pain and questions… He is a God who sent His one and only Son to die for us, He is a God who makes all things new, a God who makes beauty from ashes… He will bring you home. And I will wait in patience, praising Him all the while, no questions, just hope, happiness, and thankfulness that He gave me you. Sweet, precious, adorable, you.
Sweetest dreams, Maphada Jade Hutton. We love you so deeply. We will never give up. Thank you Father, for my beautiful butterfly… xoxoxo!!!
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