I’m not sure where to start, so I’ll just pick age 16. I
needed to pay for my car, so I got a job at Payless Cashways as a cashier. On my first day of work, there was a meeting
for all store employees, so I stayed to see what it was all about. I had only met a handful of employees, and
was still very shy (hard to believe, I know!), so I hung back and let everyone
else sit down. There were two “yard guys”
wearing camouflage pants sitting together and acting silly. One of them even had two black eyes that I
would later learn was from a fight the night before. Right before the meeting started, the
non-black-eye guy turned and asked if I wanted to sit in the seat that was open
next time him. I told him I didn’t talk
to strangers (in a flirty way, of course!) and stayed where I was. Can you guess who he was/is? If you guessed my hubby dearest, you are
right! Defining moment: about a week later, we talked again and
started dating shortly after. So
what? Here’s what: just a couple of years earlier, he had hopes
of playing football at Oklahoma State.
He broke both of his wrists within a year or so, and gave up
football. If he hadn’t, we likely wouldn’t
have met. A hard time in his life ended
up bringing us together. He’s my best
friend. I’m so thankful that he broke
those bones and didn’t move to Stillwater, because I’m not sure where else our
paths would have crossed. God did
that.
Let’s skip ahead about 8 years. We decided we wanted to start a family. We thought it would be easy. We were wrong. It took more than two years and a surgery for
hubby dearest for us to finally be able to conceive. We were thrilled. But something went terribly wrong. My body didn’t enjoy pregnancy and I
developed HELLP
syndrome. Our critterboy was born at
30 weeks, weighing 2lbs 11oz. Click HERE
to read a little bit about his start in life.
We were terrified, angry, sad, confused, and pretty much every other
emotion possible. Why OUR little
man? Why ME? Why US? We’re not strong enough for this! No way.
But we WERE strong enough, and so was our critterboy. At the time, I had no idea why my pregnancy and
delivery happened the way it did. Why my
baby was born too soon. It took a few
years to begin to piece it together. God
knew what was coming and this was only the beginning.
I need to back up a bit, though, because a few other
significant things happened while we were trying to make a baby. During that time, we nearly became parents (of
the temporary kind) to two young family members. The paperwork was done. Everything was ready. Except it wasn’t God’s plan. I was devastated. As far as I was concerned, they were MY
boys. I loved them wholeheartedly even
though I barely knew the oldest and had yet to meet the newborn. I had clothes ready, toys ready, and my heart
ready. Why would He bring us so far,
then not see it through? I wasn’t sure I
could ever recover from that pain. Not long after that, a friend told me about
a mom who was hoping to place her toddler for adoption. That night, I dreamed of a boy with blond
hair and blue eyes as my son. Though I
never met him, I later found out that the little guy had blond hair and blue
eyes. Can you see where this is
going? Hold on . . . I’m getting to
it.
When the critterboy was about a year old, we decided he
needed a sibling. After about six months
of trying, there was still no positive pregnancy test. Because of the
complications the first time around, we consulted specialists. After reviewing my records, the high risk OB
said that he could “probably get me to 34 weeks with bed rest starting around
20 weeks.” Ummmm . . . what?
We have a toddler at home. That
just won’t work. To make things even
more difficult, we soon found out that it wouldn’t happen without medical
intervention, and that wasn’t something we wanted to do given the likely
outcome. We started researching
adoption agencies (together, although I had been researching international
adoption since I was about 20 years old).
We applied with an agency and were approved to adopt from
Guatemala. But then a bunch of stuff
happened. Political tension surrounding
adoption was high between the US and Guatemala.
We were nervous, because financially we had one shot at an international
adoption. If things didn’t go well, we
wouldn’t have the ability to move forward with another adoption. So we changed countries (to Azerbaijan) in
hopes of moving things along at a bit quicker pace. But wait!
Our child wasn’t in Azerbaijan.
Nope. She was in Guatemala. We changed back to the Guatemala
program. I firmly believe that He chose
La Princesa to be our daughter. (I know
not everyone agrees with this way of thinking, but I’m not looking for a debate
here, mmmkay?) She wasn’t born yet when
we were in the Guatemala program the first time. He threw delays and frustrations, countries
we’d never heard of before, and so many emotions at us to get us to wait until she
was born. Obviously this wasn’t clear at
the time. Many of the same feelings of
fear, frustration, anger, etc. were there.
Why US? Doesn’t anyone care that
we want another child in our family? We’re not strong enough for this. It isn’t meant to be. But you know what? It WAS meant to be. La Princesa was/is meant to be our
daughter. We have no other explanation
for the timing of our entire adoption process.
(If you want to see a slideshow about our journey, click HERE)
What’s more (follow me on this), if we would’ve become parents to our young
family members, we likely wouldn’t have had our sweet boy. If our critterboy hadn’t been born early, we
likely wouldn’t have pursued an adoption at all. If we hadn’t come so close to being parents
to our young family members along the way, we might not have understood that we
could love a child that we didn’t create.
An extremely difficult time in their mother’s life opened our hearts in
ways we had never imagined. God did this.
So cool. And don’t even get me
started on the timing of our visits with her in Guatemala and her
homecoming. Oh my goodness. I could go on and on about that.
While I’m on the subject of Guatemala, during my time there,
I saw things that changed me. Not just
on the surface, but changed me all the way to my core. Beauty, poverty, and just another culture in
general. Armed guards were posted at the
entrances of not only stores, but also parking lots. Families, often including more than one small
child, were riding on a single motorcycle.
People were walking even along the busiest of roads and highways. I couldn’t live in my little dream world
anymore, seeing first hand that not everyone in the world had even their basic
needs met. I’m still trying to be
patient and see what God’s plan is for me in that respect. At one time, I thought I should just GO and do
SOMETHING to make it better. In time, I
realized that isn’t what I’m supposed to do, at least not now. Someday I want to go back for a visit, and in
my dreams, I would spend enough time there to teach business skills to
women. I’ll be patient and see what
happens. Until then, let’s recap! J
If we would’ve become parents to our young family members, we likely wouldn’t
have had our sweet boy. If our
critterboy hadn’t been born early, we likely wouldn’t have pursued an adoption
at all. If we hadn’t come so close to
being parents to our young family members along the way, we might not have
understood that we could love a child that we didn’t create. And if we hadn’t come to know that, we wouldn’t
have our amazing daughter and the experience of another culture. Did I do any of this? No way.
This was all HIM.
So, picking up where I left off. . . shortly after we
brought La Princesa home from Guatemala, we were invited to what I fondly refer
to as a “Guatemalan adoption get together”, hosted by a family who lives not
far from us. There were lots of families
with children from Guatemala in our area, and we had no idea! During the course of the gathering, the host
and I were chatting and she happened to bring up that their Sunday school class
was re-inventing itself with a new name and a new direction. Their first study would be “Effective
Parenting in a Defective World” (can I get an amen??). And guess what? Their church was the same one where our kids
had been going to daycare. She kept in
touch and emailed me when the study was scheduled to begin. We visited the class and it was a great fit
for us. We connected with lots of other
couples, many of whom had kids the same ages as ours, and even better, older
than ours. We hit the jackpot of
parenting advice! We started attending
each Sunday and began developing relationships with our new classmates-turned-friends. A few months later, I was baptized and we
officially joined our church. So if you’re
following along, here’s how it goes: almost parents, then change of plans. Infertility,
then fertility, then premature son. Lots
of hurdles and road blocks, then adoption, then church home and church family. Awesome.
Every bit of this happened exactly how and when it was supposed to. Perfect timing, not according to my plans,
but HIS.
Fast forward about three years. Our home was destroyed by an EF-5
tornado. I was at work, while Mark was
home with the kids (and his parents who were visiting from out of state). By the time I could even get to what was left
of my house, one member of our Sunday school class was already there. Within a few minutes of me arriving,
virtually everyone from the class was there helping us sort and load everything
we could. I still don’t know how they
all came to be there. Some say I posted
on Facebook, but I can’t find a post during that timeframe. Some say I talked to them on the phone, and
while I vaguely recall one conversation with a friend while on my way, I
distinctly remember telling her it was too dangerous and not to come. They were the next ones there. Many of them brought their children, the
youngest of whom stayed in their cars watching in wide-eyed confusion, and the
oldest of whom worked right alongside their parents. Several even came back day
after day to help until there wasn’t anything left to do. A family we barely knew from church had a
house that was unoccupied and our things were being taken directly there. When we arrived there late that night, a
family picture, battered and a bit wet, was already hanging on the wall and friends
were laying out clothes to dry throughout the house. Our classmates, along with other members of
our church family and immediate family, organized work days, took 20+ trash
bags full of salvaged clothing, blankets, and towels to the Laundromat for us
so that the borrowed washer and dryer at our temporary home could keep up with
the day to day loads, brought meals, washed trays of silverware that were
covered in debris, donated money, gift cards, clothes, household items, etc. We
were completely overwhelmed by this outpouring of love and prayer. The entire experience was awful. But as I’ve said over and over again, when
you look past the awfulness of it, it was and still is a blessing. The home whose walls blew away, we learned,
had been making me (and at times the entire family) sick in many ways. When we left it behind, I was (mostly)
healed. The number of doctor visits for
illnesses for our family was reduced by more than half during the months that
followed. We grew closer as a family,
made new friends, and gained experience handling the aftermath of tragedy that
we hope someday can bring comfort to others who may experience the same
thing. We saw the power of God in the
tornado and in the healing afterward. He
was there through the entire thing. He
knew all of this would happen and he knew we could handle it because he had
surrounded us with not only His love, but the love of our church family. Need another review? Alrighty! If we would’ve become parents to our young
family members, we likely wouldn’t have had our sweet boy. If our critterboy hadn’t been born early, we
likely wouldn’t have pursued an adoption at all. If we hadn’t come so close to being parents
to our young family members along the way, we might not have understood that we
could love a child that we didn’t create.
If we hadn’t adopted La Princesa, we likely wouldn’t have given our
church a chance. If we hadn’t joined our
church, the tornado ordeal wouldn’t have been nearly as much of a blessing for
us. Amazing. (The tornado will someday be it’s own
post. Nearly two years later I’m still
trying to put all of my feelings into words . . .)
There was a time (okay, most of my first 25 or so years), that
I tried to figure out life on my own. God’s
plan wasn’t something I considered, because I was too focused on what “I”
wanted and how “I” wanted things to happen.
I’m a control freak by nature (can I get another amen??), and if
something doesn’t make sense to me, I have to rationalize it somehow. To think that I wasn’t in control was simply
unthinkable. People would say “things
happen for a reason” and I would smile and nod. I subscribed to the belief that if you lived
right, good things would happen, and if you didn’t, well, that bad things would
happen. I’ve never really believed in fate. I always knew God was behind all of this, but
didn’t take it to heart. I believed in
God, and “was a good person”, but didn’t pray much. We had a hard time settling on a church to
attend due to the vastly different denominations and church experiences we’d
had growing up, so we just didn’t go. You know what’s awesome? God did all of this anyway. Every single bit of this. And not in a spiteful “I’ll show you! Get your booty to church and this stuff won’t
happen!” kind of way, but in a loving way.
Growing me and changing me and bringing me closer to Him by revealing
his glory in all of these experiences.
It was really awesome at times and really hard at other times. If you look closely, you can almost see the
pattern. Sorrow, joy, learning, growing,
changing, then more sorrow, more joy, more learning and growing, rinse and
repeat!
You might be reading about these hardships and trials and
thinking, “how could she keep believing in a God who allows so much pain?” I’ll tell you how. My God is not a vengeful God. He is a loving God who challenges us to be
better people and better disciples. I
look at every hurdle that has been thrown in my way as a learning
experience. Each trial has added to my
story of growing closer to Him and opened my heart to the possibilities yet to
come. And you know what? He’s not
done. While I don’t look forward to
difficult times in the future, I choose to look at them differently now. I feel God’s love for me in each one. All things in life, good and bad and in
between, are temporary. We can allow
them to shape us and teach us, or we can run and hide and ask “why me?” But asking all those questions will get you nowhere. His plans for our lives are much more
complicated and more fulfilling than we could ever imagine. If I have anything to offer as advice, it
would be to look beyond the hard times, whatever they may be. Look for the lesson and look for the gifts
that are hidden among them. It makes the thought of an eternity with Him that
much sweeter. J
If you’re still reading, I hope you have enjoyed the
much abbreviated story of how I got to this point in my life and in my faith. If you don't know me well on a personal level, you might have learned a lot about me. If you do know me well, you probably still learned a few things. (I'm pretty exciting, right?!) I’ve left out lots of details, but I think it’s
pretty clear that this journey isn’t over.
The good times, the bad times, the everyday run-of-the-mill times; they’re
all important in understanding how this puzzle of life comes together. It’s so exciting, and I can’t wait to see what’s
next . . . now back to your regularly scheduled programming.
