Sifted

I really can’t count the number of times I have started this post.  I get a few lines in...a paragraph...and then I stop.  And erase it.

I’ll just tell you now--there’s a lot to say here.  So I’m guessing that once I get the words out there will be a lot of words.  You’ve been warned.

When we reached the decision to adopt in April 2012, I had an idea of how this whole adoption thing would go down.  Paperwork, lots of waiting, a few hiccups, referral, boom! Family of four!  We wanted to share the journey with you because we assumed God would do some crazy awesome things and we wanted people to know how crazy awesome our God is.  We felt compelled to be real and raw and honest in our posts because we believe that as Christ followers we should be honest.  It’s easy when you are a pastor/pastor’s wife to look around and find yourself placed on a pedestal simply because of the job title---not because you have done anything special to earn that place.  Kyle and I are blessed to be a part of a small group that has seen us as we truly are and still seem to like us.  I mean, they keep coming over week after week, so that’s a good sign...right?  These people have been in my home when it is at its cleanest and dirtiest.  They have seen us sacrifice for each other but also argue with each other.  They’ve been around for our parenting wins and major losses.  They have seen us place our faith in God again and again and they have listened to us when we’ve asked the hard questions about His plans.  They’ve been around when we laughed until we cried and they’ve been there when we’ve cried until we laughed.  I can tell you that we couldn’t have made it through the last year without these people holding us up.  

We are real people when our small group is around, and I try to keep it real here on this blog, too.  Not because I want to, though.  To be clear….I am quite the introvert.  If I know I’m going to be in a situation where I have to talk to a lot of people that I don’t know well I actually make a mental list of conversation topics!  Yes, I’m serious.  Yes, I know I married a pastor and people I don’t really know talk to me all the time.  Small talk is hard for me!  But one on one deeper conversation?  That I can do.  So this whole sharing my heart with the Facebook world bit is not easy for me.

So why do I keep doing it?  Back to the being real thing.  Just because Kyle is a pastor and I am his wife does not mean that things like faith and wisdom and understanding the Lord come easier to us.  It turns out that faith is hard sometimes.  It turns out that God’s ways are confusing and complicated and trusting Him often looks crazy.  I really prefer to update this blog when there is something positive to say, something that at least points to hope.  It’s much harder for me to write when hope seems lost.

These past few months have been very difficult for our little family.  Bad news has been rolling in and updating has seemed too hard.  But it is time for us to open the window and be real with you.  So brace yourself...I’m taking the “church face” off.

In August while on vacation at a secluded cabin in the no cell phone service woods, we managed to receive an email and a voicemail from our adoption agency.  We learned that for a third time we would need to find a new agency.  Our agency was too small to maintain the financial requirements outlined by the Hague agreement.  That wasn’t the only implication, though.  The other issue is that there was no other agency that has an adoption program in Azerbaijan.

The end of the line.

As we drove home from that vacation, we discussed our options.

Give up?

Try to have a biological kid?

Adopt from China?

We began to look at other agencies and wondered how to explain all of the Azerbaijan stuff in our home.

The puzzle with a photograph taken in Azerbaijan by an Azeri-American.

The canvas painted by a friend with an outline of Azerbaijan.

The vase, slippers, hats, and snow globe purchased for us in Azerbaijan.

The ornaments with the Azerbaijan cut out inside.

Were we wrong all along?  But it always seemed so clear!

Within a week we got a call.  There was another agency.  If we still wanted to pursue Azerbaijan, the agency we worked with in 2013-2014 was opening their program again.  And they wanted to talk.

Trust had been broken before with this former agency, but after a lengthy conversation, many things were cleared up.  They couldn’t guarantee any progress would be made, but they would try.

Perhaps another week passed...I’m not sure.  And the phone rang.

We want to tell you about a little boy in Ethiopia.  You are home study ready...he could be yours if you just update your home study to say “Ethiopia.”

And they sent us his picture.  His sweet face with liquid brown eyes and short, curly hair.  Wearing pink in every picture.  They sent us his name and his history and how could we say no?  How could anyone say no to a child in need of a home?

But the road would be long because Ethiopia is no walk in the park.  

So we said yes and emailed our home study agency.  We explained the situation and what we needed to make a match official.  Just change the word “Azerbaijan” to “Ethiopia.”

Nope.  The answer was no.  You see, the adoption situation in Ethiopia is very fragile right now.  Laws are changing.  Very few agencies have programs in Ethiopia open right now.  And each agency is matched to a specific orphanage in the country.  Our home study agency and our placing agency both have programs in Ethiopia...but they are matched to different orphanages.  And the home study agency has a policy against providing home studies for Ethiopia for families using different placing agencies.

Which means we would need a new home study agency.  Which means we were not “home study ready.”  Which means the liquid brown eyes needed to be passed along to another family who would be ready more quickly.

It is probably weird to admit this, but although this situation should have devastated us, it really didn’t.  It was disappointing--absolutely.  Annoying, sad, frustrating.  Feeling like we came so close only to have it taken away.  But deep down, in the deepest parts where we think and feel things but we are afraid to say them out loud---in those places we never really thought he would be ours.  His face never haunted my dreams.  

So as September rolled in, we took a deep breath and turned our attention back to Azerbaijan...where nothing was happening.  Nothing at all.

And then we got some good news.  Great news!  The best kind of news---a plus sign!  A positive pregnancy test!  And perfect timing, too!  Baby would be due in June--just as the school year draws to a close here in Virginia.  Matthew was thrilled!  So much to look forward to!

And unlike “adoption pregnancies,” these kinds of pregnancies...the biological kind...have expiration dates!  Give or take a week or two, you know that kid HAS to come out!  Praise the LORD!!!

It didn’t last long, though.  I don’t know why these things are so very hard for women to talk about, but can I tell you, until I experienced a miscarriage I had no idea that I was surrounded by other women who had experienced the same?

I had suspected for a couple of weeks that something was wrong.

In the midst of my happiness, my joy over expecting new life, I always wondered if God would really say yes this time.  Wondered if it would end this way.

And as I helped a group of my 5th graders work on their book reports, I knew it was over.  I knew I’d have to leave early.  Call my doctor.  

After an ultrasound it was confirmed.  The words are permanently burned in my mind.

“Your womb is empty now.”

The anger.  The confusion.  Lord, WHY was this even necessary?!?!  Have I not proven to you time and again that I will follow you?  I am so angry, so very angry the words aren’t even available to explain the anger!  But I still choose YOU.  You know I do.  I don’t much want to talk to you, but I still choose You.

That was all I could pray for a while there.

I still choose You.

I don’t understand You.

But I still choose You.

That was about a month and a half ago now.  And sharing this with Facebook land scares me to death.  I tried to convince myself that this isn’t really part of our adoption journey so I shouldn’t include it at all...But the thought won’t leave.  It’s as if the Lord keeps whispering it in my ear.  Be Real, Be Raw, Be Honest.

Can I just say something that some of you learned a long time ago, some of you are with me now, and some of you will learn in the future?

Sometimes the road is long.  Sometimes the journey is hard.  Sometimes the light is dim and the dark is scary and you feel lost.  Sometimes the next step has to be taken in pitch black darkness and you don’t know where your foot will land.  Sometimes you yell at God.  Sometimes you tell Him you don’t understand.  Sometimes you yell and you scream and you cry and you beg and you try to turn away.  Sometimes you find yourself holding your only child who is sobbing in your lap because he was so excited to get a sibling and you demand that the Lord tell you WHY.

And sometimes

He doesn’t.  Sometimes he doesn’t tell you.  Sometimes all you can hear is that still, small voice saying, “One more step.  Trust me.  Take another step.  Trust me.  Keep going.  Trust me.”

And when you cry and yell and scream---He lets you.  And then he sends people to you with stories like yours...stories of adoption and miscarriage and anger.  Stories of hope and redemption and unexpected provision.  He sends people with Chinese food and Chick fil a and groceries and the Melting Pot and a cozy scarf and cute earrings and a coloring book and and and and.

Can I do a shameless plug for small group?  Be in a group of people who you can be real and true with.  Cause the ones who stick around for your crazy are the same ones who stick around for your heartbreak.  

So here we are.  Our hearts are healing.  We are trusting the Lord.  We are hanging up that extra stocking for the 5 time this year.  We have an ornament on our tree.  We are updating our homestudy to adjust the age range...and the number of children.

We are willing to adopt two kids up to age 5 ½.  

Thank you for clicking on this post...for still following along after four and a half years!  Send prayers our way---we certainly need them!

I’ll leave you with this verse that God laid on Kyle’s heart the day before our miscarriage:

“Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat.  

But I have prayed for you...that your faith may not fail.  

And when you have turned back,

strengthen your brothers.”

Luke 22:31-32

We’ve been sifted, are still being sifted, but our faith has not failed.