I am a lover of color, art, interacting with people, children, pets, my family but most importantly God. My husband believes he lives with characters from Alice in Wonderland. I am always dreaming and believing for impossible things, like Alice. Sometimes, I am as forgetful and late as White Rabbit. I can also be as misunderstood as Mad Hatter.
Our lives have always been full of crazy stories and our home full of people. Over 13 years ago we put our 3 small girls on their first airplane and moved to the other side of the world. We were crazy lovers of God with a big yes and goal to love hell right out of people. Some days have been more successful than others and one of the main lessons I am learning is, I was the one most in need of saving.
Since I was a child I always dreamed of being a missionary, adopting and having a house full of children. We have 4 daughters. Our oldest 3 will all be in college this year and our 4th is in middle school. Here we are, as we see our nest becoming empty, wanting to fill it fuller. I never expected our youngest daughter’s adoption to take so long and thought we would adopt again. Before she came into our lives we knew there were sons and brothers somewhere waiting for us. We agreed to our daughter before the birth mom knew the sex, but I knew. I knew this child of promise was a precious gift but would not be the awaited sons.
When adoption and citizenship were said and done it was 7 years later and time was running out. We were stuck in America working on citizenship and decided adopting through foster care was the way to go. With the determination of Alice, I crafted a foreclosed house into a home with 10 beds fully decorated up to code and ready to receive more family. Then in a strange turn of events, God gave me the courage to give the house away to a foster family that was in desperate need. So my offering was poured out joyfully to bless the foster care system and to return to full-time overseas missions. Here I was, laying my dreams and adoption desires on the altar for the lost and broken. Going back to the country where our daughter was adopted from, I knew it would take some major miracles for us to adopt from this nation again but ever hopeful knowing Daddy God can move the mountains that needed to move. International adoption we didn’t think would be possible because of our limited income, not to mention we are not residing in America. Then a job offer as missionaries with income renewed hope that maybe we could finally adopt again. Just as we were looking into agencies and how we could adopt Internationally while residing outside America, tragedy struck our family. We were blindsided and all energy turned towards healing and a journey that forever clouds our memories. To the altar again goes the adoption dream for the needs of family. A season of hardships, persecution, slander, and pain ending in a rapid exodus from the city where we lived and another drained bank account was yet another return to the altar.
Here we stand 2+ years later surrounded by a loving community, that includes many families somewhere on the adoption pipeline. Though I’m not so sure standing is the best verb. More accurately we are still bent over with worry and doubt. So I pray and I write to help me stand. My girls have so much more faith than their parents. Is the rug going to be pulled from underneath? Our bank account doesn’t reflect this as a wise financial move or even a possibility.
But my heart says try,. Step out in faith. Stand, tell your story and see the mountains move. So thanks for reading and joining me to stand.