Second Birthday

Last year, we had the privilege of celebrating T.D.'s birthday with him for the first time.

At that point, he had not yet moved in with us.  We were still praying about his future and just weren't sure about adding a teenager to our dynamic at home.  

A month later, Brian's phone rang at midnight, and a few minutes later he was heading to pick up T.D. for the night.  He stayed in our spare room that night and he's been there ever since.  

(Well, he's come out of the room on occasion to eat and play video games.) 

To be honest, I had quite a few concerns about bringing a teenage boy into my house.  

• How much would he eat????
• How would we set boundaries for a kid who had lived on his own for so long?
• How would I feel about it when Brian was out of town? 
• How would it be perceived by our family and friends? 
• How would he respond to being parented by us? 

In the year since moving in, he has blown all my fears, concerns, and hesitations out of the water.  

If you have had the opportunity to hear his story, then you may know the number of schools he's attended, the number of states he's lived in, and the family tragedies he's endured.  His life has been tough at times, really tough.  

But he has chosen to view it as part of his story, and he has never, ever blamed it on anyone or held bitterness for any of it.  We love that about him.   

He is his bio mom's only child, so this is T.D.'s first experience with little brothers.  J-man actually says his name, enunciating each letter with with plenty of emphasis (it's one of the first words he's learned) and has a specific head nod he gives T.D.  He LOVES his big brother.  And though he won't always admit it, T.D. loves those little brothers of his. 

He's made such tremendous strides in school this year, working hard to catch up and get on track.  We are super proud of where he has made it academically and for the fact that he's actively started thinking about his future.

For never having had to listen to parent "lectures" or having a curfew or boundaries, you'd be amazed at how teachable and responsive he is.

It's not because Brian and I have some magic touch, TUH-RUST me, we just pray that we are saying and doing what is best for him each day.

He really is a special kid, who has managed to face adversity and come out stronger on the other side.  Not perfect, still full of regular teenage quirks, but with a willingness to want more for himself and for his future.  

Yesterday we celebrated the second birthday with him and his mom drove up from New Orleans to surprise him.  Loved seeing his face as it slowly registered she was actually there in the room with him.  

Tyson was excited for the party.  Then again, he pretty much always looks like this. 

Who doesn't love a good cookie cake? 

Based on facial expressions alone, you can tell they're related.   :) 

 HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TD!!! 

Redeemed

Redeem

1. Buy back or repaying a loan
2. Fulfillment of a promise or a pledge
3. To liberate, to free, to rescue

I used this word a lot to describe our family.

But hear me on this, it is NOT because I believe we "rescued" or "saved" our children.  That concept can be thrown around a lot in the adoption world and I don't feel comfortable using it.   They don't "owe" me anything for bringing them into our home and they aren't "lucky" to be in our family.   I never want them to feel like we are their saviors.  We are their mom and dad.  There is a big difference.

Brian and I are not the heroes or the rescuers, we are simply a piece in the redemption story of our family.

To be honest, I'm pretty sure TD, our oldest son, was questioning his decision to move in with us when he witnessed our J-man getting regular nebulizer treatments for his wheezing.

After a few weeks of watching J-man wiggle and squirm, annoyed at having a mask on his face every morning, TD asked us why we were putting the little guy through it.

We explained that his pediatrician had prescribed this for J-man's baby asthma and wheezing.

TD's response was classic.

"Oh, I thought that was just something all white people did to their kids."

I can only imagine what was running through that poor kid's mind the previous weeks as we held our toddler down and strapped what looked like a gas mask to his face.

Pretty sure he was hoping someone would "rescue" him from the insane asylum he'd just moved into...

Bless him.

Back to my point.

Redeemed

Here is why I love this word as a descriptor for our family - because of its antonym.

Abandoned

According to dictionary.com it is the direct opposite of redeemed.

The definition of abandoned is to be "forsaken, discarded, rejected, deserted."

There are five distinct histories in our family.  Brian and I lived three decades without each other. Thirty years contains a lot of decisions, hurts, and life experience. T.D. lived 18 years apart from us.  J-man and Tyson have a much shorter past, but still bring a history that has been marked by loss.

Each one of us have felt the sting of abandonment in a different way.  We have wondered when someone was going love us for who we were with no conditions and no expectations.

Our family is patchwork of personalities, quirks, DNA, and life experience.  We're a rag-tag bunch, full of mistakes, fumbles, and missteps.

It's not always pretty over here, as our histories can rear their ugly heads when things get hard.  Old patterns and fears emerge as a way to cope with pain and difficulty.  The feeling of abandonment doesn't just dissipate immediately upon entering a family unit.

Here is where we focus- Abandonment, for each member of our family, is now a feeling, not a current truth in our lives.  However, it has a sneaky way of lingering and whispers just at the times where we are at our lowest and most vulnerable. If we believe the soft lies spoken only for our ears, then we tend to shrink back, close off, and hide.  When we let it become a part of who we are now, we have then become a captive to its power, and it has the ability to make us believe that we are not worth loving.

The feeling of abandonment has the power to incapacitate someone for a very long time.  It can wreck marriages, families, and the future of many kids who have come from hard places. 

So, we are intentional about speaking freedom into our boys.  When things are hard, when pain is evident, and when tempers flare, we are consistent in our message of commitment, love, and a promise of forever into the hearts of our sons and to each other.   We want them to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that our family is not a fleeting trend, a whim, or a matter of social justice.  It's a life-time commitment.

Abandonment may be a part of our past, but redemption is our future.

We cannot solve each other's hurts or take away the months and years where loss has reigned. I'll leave that business to the One who is the true Redeemer.

What I CAN do is to live free.  When I allow stress to rule my thoughts, when I am bogged down in worry, and when I am held captive by fear, it only shows that I am still under the premise that I will one day be rejected, forgotten, and abandoned.

Ain't nobody got time for that.

I look back to where I have been, see what is in front of me today, and think about the potential for our family's future, I cannot help but think of the word, Redeemed.

As a way to remind us on a daily basis of this truth, I spent four more hours than I planned, put waaaayyyyy too many holes in the wall, and muttered a few too many choice words under my breath to put this up.

I couldn't get the pictures exactly straight, there are fingerprint smudges on the frames, and sometimes (most of time) the letters are hanging crooked.  It goes against everything in my Type-A personality, but yet, I'm proud of it.  

Slightly off. Messy. Imperfect.  

That's us.

Just two crazy white folks that put too much smelly hair cream in their youngest son's afro (according to T.D.), torture J-man with a daily nebulizer treatment (according to T.D.), are way too strict on their policy of no brotherly headlocks (according to J-man), and love the heck out of our boys (according to me.)

A work in process. Far from perfect. Redeemed daily.

Why #fitchthehomeless Is Not The Solution

Abercrombie and Fitch hit their stride in the early 2000's, with adolescents clamoring for the brand to be displayed somewhere on their body.  I was teaching fifth grade at the time in an upper income, mostly white area outside Atlanta.  Most of my students were able to afford the brand, so my classroom was a sea of A&F logos, as it was the "cool" status symbol at the time.

I understood the desire, as I had once begged my mother incessantly for any clothes from The Limited or Gap, in order to not have to shop at "The Deb" anymore. (Please someone tell me you know what "The Deb" was...) In any case, back in my day, to own some knee-length plaid shorts was a sign that you had made it.  Clearly, times have changed.

Wearing over-sized glasses before hipsters were even born.  Literally.

Abercrombie has defined its shopping experience by providing half-naked teenager "models" at the door, an excessive use of cologne spray throughout the store, and music being played at decibels that aim to keep away anyone over the age of thirty.

The CEO, Mike Jeffries, has made some pretentious and elitist statements over the years as you can read in this Salon interview from 2006.  One of his comments has garnered much attention in the past few weeks:

"As far as Jeffries is concerned, America’s unattractive, overweight or otherwise undesirable teens can shop elsewhere. “In every school there are the cool and popular kids, and then there are the not-so-cool kids,” he says. “Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely. Those companies that are in trouble are trying to target everybody: young, old, fat, skinny. But then you become totally vanilla. You don’t alienate anybody, but you don’t excite anybody, either.”

You can see why people may be a wee bit up in arms over this. 

In response, a filmmaker in California has made this video calling for Americans to "#fitchthehomeless," which means give all your A&F clothing to a homeless shelter near you.  

Here's where I see the problem in this. 

The CEO of A&F has admitted to propagating an elitist agenda aimed at reaching one subsection of America; rich, white, and good-looking humans between the ages of ten and twenty.  

It's gross.  

#Fitchthehomeless has taken another subset of America, the homeless and the destitute, and dehumanized them.  

Equally gross. 

His tactic isn't to care for the poor because the are in need, but rather, stick it to the "man."  In essense, the homeless are simply a commodity in the video, used to make a point.  

In the short documentary, the young filmmaker hands articles of clothing to the residents of Skid Row, then films them as they hold up the A&F logo.  There is no documentation that he held any conversations with any of those shown in the video or that he has spent any time with the homeless in Skid Row.  It appears that he picked the "lowest" place in society and headed there armed with his weapons, a pile full of clothing.  

I have an issue with this.  

His idea still separates America into a class system, where he views the homeless as inferior and the lowest of the low. 

He isn't advocating for anyone else to wear the clothing, just those that are destitute and homeless. Which to me, sounds a bit elitist and classist as well.  

Throwing used clothes at the homeless does not solve the problem of pretentious elitism or poverty and destitution. 

Instead of #fitchthehomeless. . .

And you are a parent of adolescents, have some conversations with your kids about the CEO's statements and what A&F portrays to the public.  Invite your teens to weigh in with their opinion on the controversy.  It's important that the generation this brand is targeting understand the implications that go along purchasing a shirt or pair of shorts from their company. 

If you aren't buying clothes for anyone in this demographic, lucky you.  I would imagine trying to explain to your 15 year-old daughter that shorty shorts and see-through shirts is not an appropriate clothing choice can be rather stressful. 

Instead of #fitchthehomeless. . .

What if we take the time to evaluate our thoughts on how socioeconomic status and demographics affect the way we interact with others.  Let's take the controversial statements and the video and use them to consider whether we are quietly living out the same narrative in our own everyday interactions. 

Let's continue to fight against the cultural norm that tells our teens they must look a certain way to be known and accepted.  Let's consider our homeless neighbors in our surrounding towns and communities as people who deserve dignity and more than an article of our clothing.  

And finally, let's bring back the long, plaid short. 

And the ponytail with the long side bang.  That looked awesome. 

A Deep, Fierce Love

"Oh what a power is motherhood, possessing
A potent spell
All women alike
Fight fiercely for a child."
-- Euripides

A mother's love is deeper than biology and shared DNA.  It stretches across oceans and continents, race and ethnicity.  A mother's heart can lead in directions that are completely counter-cultural and make decisions that seemingly go against all reason.

Let me introduce you to Robin and Brenda. 

Before each of these women held their child in their arms, they knew that life for them may look a little different. They knowingly chose the path of motherhood that would require a deep trust in God's sovreignty and a His plan for their child.  

People warned them that it didn't make sense, this path of motherhood, there would be too much at stake.  Too much of a risk for loss.  

These mothers knew, despite the uncertainty, the questions of others, and the overwhelming odds, that their child was waiting for them. 

Here are their stories.

This is Robin.  Mom to three amazing girls and to this special little boy, Gabriel.  

Gabriel was born prematurely with special needs.  At a few months old, he was placed into foster care and put into the arms of one of the foster families in our church.   Not long after entering his foster home, he became gravely ill and was placed in the NICU.  This little one is a fighter, and he battled for his life through ventilators and tubes and needles.  While in the NICU, he had a church full of people praying for him.  The Pass family were some of those people praying.  They had met Gabriel one morning at church.  As soon they had laid eyes on this sweet boy, they knew that he was meant to be a part of their family.  Robin he was what her arms had been missing.  He was her son. 

The Pass's became licensed foster parents and Gabriel was transitioned lovingly into their home last Mother's Day.  Despite his medical conditions, constant doctor's appointments, and round-the-clock care, Robin jumped in headfirst.  With a fierce mama's heart, she has made sure that he has the best care, that his medicines are regulated perfectly for his little body, and that he has the therapy he needs.   

Last month, Gabriel was officially adopted by the Pass Family.  Today, exactly a year after joining his family, Gabriel was baptized.  A miracle baby adored by his family and usually found in the arms of his mama. 

This is the Gorman Family.  Brenda Gorman and her husband adopted Zia, on the right, from the DRC.   

A few months before they were supposed to travel to get her, the Gormans were told that Zia had serious health issues.  Their agency asked if they still wanted to pursue the adoption.  

There was no question.  Zia was their daughter. 

Brenda flew immediately to the DRC to be with her.  She fought to get Zia moved to a better hospital in the DRC and was able to get an emergency visa to bring Zia home to Texas for medical treatment.  

Zia was able to spend 33 days with her family before passing away last week.  Please read more of her story here.  

Brenda was featured on the CBS evening news this past Friday night.  It was a beautiful piece about the love of a mother who fought so valiantly for her daughter's life.


  


I've not met Brenda personally, but through our Congo connections, have followed her journey on Facebook.  She is a true warrior, risking everything for a child to know what it means to have a family. Despite heartbreak and loss, she has remained steadfast that God picked Zia specifically for their family. 

Brenda's words on losing their Zia: 
"Death is not the end of her story. My baby girl still gets the fairytale ending; she is in a new body that is healed, she has all the bumba she wants, she is resting in the arms of Jesus, and she is rejoicing in the 
victory"

As we celebrate mothers across the world today, I needed you to meet these two women.  I think you can understand why. 

The Village People

When someone decides to become a foster parent, they knowingly agree to play a role in a story birthed from trauma and pain.

Children do not come into foster care as a result of healthy, thriving families.  They are placed in the system because somewhere along the way, their biological family chose addiction, abuse, neglect, or crime over everything else in their life.

Fostering can produce stories of beautiful restoration.  It can also be hard and exhausting.  At times, it's really, really, REALLY lonely.

Not everyone understands why one would choose to this path.  Almost every foster parent can share a story of friends or family questioning why they would involve themselves in such a messy, broken system.

But then there are the others.  The ones that subscribe to the "It takes a Village," mantra.

They are the hand-holders, the shoulders to cry on, the meal-bringers, the baby-snugglers, the prayer warriors.

I'll affectionately refer to them The Village People.

The Village People are the ones who still may not totally "get" the crazy world of foster care, but they trust your heart and your calling.  They know that this is what your family is MEANT to do. They do everything they can to support your family in the journey.  

I've got to brag about the Village People that have come alongside the foster families in our church the past two years.  They are doing ordinary things that are extraordinary blessings to those that are fostering.

I want to share these examples because they are do-able, practical, and can easily be put in place anywhere for foster families.  Whether you know one foster family or have a community full of them, these are ideas that can be easily implemented and make a significant impact their life.


Foster "Care" Bags:  These bags are made up of donated used/new diaper bags, wipes, diapers and other supplies.  The bags are age and gender specific for infants through school-age children. Foster "Care" Bags are delivered to families upon receiving an immediate placement of a child to get them through the first 24-48 hours.  Most of the time, a child is brought to the family with just the clothes on their body.  The bags aim to alleviate some of the immediate stresses on a foster family during the first few days of placement.

Foster Care Bag for a 12-18 month-old girl

Foster Care bag for a 6-12 month-old girl

Meals-  Simple, easy and a HUGE help when a family first gets a placement.  Takethemameal.com is an extremely easy online program that someone can set-up and share with others.  Sign up online and the date is reserved for when you are going to deliver the meal.  Over 150 meals have been provided to foster families by people in our church.  And man, can they cook!

House Cleaning-  Sue, a member of our church, cleans houses professionally.  She is not at the place in her life where becoming a foster parent is an option, but she wanted to do something to help.  Sue has offered to clean the house of one of the foster families every other week.  As you can imagine, there was quite a response from the families on this one!

Blankets-  Little ones need security and something to call their own. What better than a blanket that is made just for them?  Two ministries at our church, Prayer Shawl and Threads of Love, have donated hand-made blankets for the children in care. A soft blanket is the perfect comfort for small children who have just had their world flipped upside down upon entering foster care.

Hand-knit by the Frazer Prayer Shawl Ministry

Hand-crafted by Frazer's Threads of Love Ministry

Artwork-  Jamie Mitchell, an amazingly talented local artist, has rendered these beautiful creations for each child who comes into one of the foster homes. When all you own can fit in a backpack, gifts like this hold tremendous value and meaning.  We have already seen the excitement and joy on the faces of children who received a painting.

Pictures- For the past year, two professional photographers have taken pictures of the foster children in our church every three months.  Suzanne and Lori donate hours of their time, resources, and their immense talents to provide childhood keepsakes for kids who may otherwise have no documentation of their early years.  I can't show you any pictures of the foster children, so I will share the latest photo they took of our son, T.D.

The pictures have also been a gift to the biological families.  When a foster family gives the biological parents these pictures, two things happen.  One, it reminds the biological family that the the foster family is on the same team.  Two, the pictures become a daily reminder to the parents to keep fighting for the restoration of their family.  A blessing in so many ways.

Prayer- Lots of it.  We have a prayer team made up of ten women who are committed to specifically be praying for our foster families and adoptive families in the church.  When a prayer request arises, we share as much information as confidentiality allows with the team and they get to praying, praying, praying.


What are your Village People doing?  I would love to hear some stories! 



To our Village People at Frazer UMC: 

You are unbelievably awesome.  The meals, the hugs, the encouraging words, and the prayers have gotten us through some of the most difficult days.  We need you, though we may not always let you know it. Thank you for loving us and the children so, so well.  When you treat our foster children just as every other child that walks through the door of the church, you let them know they are valuable and wanted.  By providing them with normalcy, stability, and love, you are validating every truth we are trying to instill in them during the time they are in our homes.  Village People, you play such an important role in the lives of these children.  Thank you.  (And we hope you like your nickname :)

With Love,
The Foster Families

My Definition of Motherhood - One Year Later

**I wrote this post on May 13, 2012.  One year later,  I'm amazed at the way God continues to broaden my understanding of what being a mother really means.  Grateful for the crazy, unconventional ways in which I've been able to fulfill the role of being a mom to those that have been placed in my life.  

My definition of motherhood has changed drastically over the past few years.

Ten years ago, I would have defined it as a woman who birthed or adopted a child and then raised them in their home.  A mother would be a primary caregiver- full of love, good cooking, and hugs.

Some of that definition remains true, yet I've realized how much I missed the mark on what true motherhood is.

Motherhood cannot and should not be compartmentalized into a 50's sitcom.  It is so much broader and richer than June Cleaver and Mrs. Brady.

I have not birthed or adopted a child. Yet I am a mother.

For five months this past year, we had a 20 year old young man living with us to get on his feet.  He needed a place to stay, guidance on his future, stability, and love.

There is another young man in our lives whose mom currently lives 500 miles away.  He has no place to stay, so he lives with his girlfriend's family while he finishes high school.  He watched his father pass away in front of him a few years ago.  He has no family here.  He calls my husband and I, "Mom and Dad."

We have a foster baby that has been living in our home the past six months.  He is in state custody but we provide his everyday necessities- food, clothing, snuggles, and lots and lots and lots of love.

I did not birth or adopt any of these young men.  But they are my sons.

Motherhood has many different faces and each one of them is so significant.

The woman who birthed her children.

The woman who adopted her children.

The woman who chose another family to care for the child she birthed.

The woman who fosters children.

The woman who raises their sister's and brother's children.

The woman who raises her children's children.

The woman who raises her kids as a single parent.

The woman who shares parenting roles because of divorce and remarriage.

The woman who mentors young men and women.

The woman who waits for a child in her heart but not yet in her hands.

The woman who has lost little ones too early.

The woman who spends her weekends loving on kids in the housing projects downtown.

The woman who cares for children at an orphanage somewhere around the world.

The woman who has a child waiting for her in an orphanage across the ocean.

Being a mother does not always include a shared DNA.  It is not just about home-cooked meals and bedtime stories.

To be a mother to someone is to impart wisdom, guidance, empathy, compassion, hugs, tears, smiles, laughter, joy, discipline, nurture, and love.

May you never feel inadequate because your reality of "motherhood" looks different. Your story has been designed distinctly and uniquely for YOU.

I pray you feel valued and loved today and everyday, because your role in this world as a mother is significant and desperately needed.

**That teenager, who was living on other people's couches, is now a permanent member of our family.  The 6 month-old foster baby is now a giggly, rambuctious 18 month-old who keeps us constantly entertained.  A son from across the world joined our family this past January.  

Three boys.  Only one carries my last name. 

I'm a mother to all of them just the same. 

Friends, I pray that today, you would be reminded that a legal document or a societal norm is not what determines that you are a mother. 

Celebrating all the women in my life who are amazing mothers in extraordinary and unique ways.  

Fluffy Pillows, The Month of May, and Feeling Unqualified

I don't want to write posts like this and then not give options on how you can play a role.  So, I'm VERY excited for an easy opportunity to provide a small piece of comfort for children in the DRC. 

The Love More Foundation is partnering with DRC Adoption Services, the placing agency we used to adopt Tyson, to provide pillows to children in the Kimbondo Orphanage and Hospital in the DRC.  

The children were asked what they wanted and having a pillow was what many requested.  

My friends, this is something WE CAN DO! 

These are children that are currently not available for adoption, so the orphanage does not receive as many funds or donations as other places.  

The Love More Foundation was started by adoptive parents and I fully trust and support what they are doing in the DRC.  In addition, our agency has a team in the DRC right now, visiting orphanages and assessing the needs of the children there.  They are working to meet the needs of the children where they are-  LOVE IT! 

In other news. . . 

Welcome to the month of May! It is Foster Care Awareness Month and my friend Catie, over at This Higher Calling, is going to be showcasing blog posts from foster parents all month long.  Please head on over and take a look!  

I'm honored to be a part of a great community over at We Are Statements.  Head on over here to read my thoughts on being "Unqualified." 

TBT: I think we'd be friends

I wrote this post two years ago. Thought it'd be fun to post again (Throwback Thursday for those of you still wondering what "TBT" meant.  LOL, guys.  LYLAS) 

I've updated in red.  

____________________________________________

I think we'd be friends in real life. 

That's what I often imagine as I read blogs of women I've never met from all over the country.  

So in case you ever have considered that about me, I think there are some things you need to know: 

1.) I drink large quantities of UNsweet tea with extra lemons.  I'm usually seen carrying a Chick-fil-a cup full of it on a daily basis.  This causes many southerners to look at me with distaste and call me a Yankee. (Still true. Will never change. Ever. I can drink two sips of sweet tea and then my tongue stops working.) 

2.) I'm not creative. This is not a statement of humility.  It's fact. In my elementary school, students had the opportunity to be invited on a yearly basis to try and "test" into the "Talented and Gifted" program.

That was never me.  In fact, in the fifth grade, I was one of four kids in my class who were not invited to take the test while the other twenty kids in our class were.  I can still remember sitting in the classroom just waiting for the rest of the class to get back.  Bless my heart. (Sidenote: My best friend shared with me a few weeks ago how she was in the "Talented and Gifted" Program in elementary school and was so embarrassed to be in it, she purposely failed the test so they would kick her out. Despite the differences in our IQ's, the common bond of Rap Music is ultimately what brought us together 13 years ago. True story.) 

3.) To further prove number #2, I can honestly say that I never think of my day in terms doing crafts, painting, or sewing.  I can guarantee that I will never attempt to show you how to refinish furniture,  paint a mural, or embroider a onesie on this blog.  I prefer, instead, to surround myself with very talented people to do those things for me. (Due to the emergence of Pinterest in the past two years, I found my crafty nitch, friends, and that means I focused completely on making wreaths.  Since becoming the parent of two boys under two, the thought of DOING a craft makes me tired. These wreaths are going to have to last for the next ten years.)

4.) Once I find a fashion piece I like, it becomes my "thing." (Probably that creative issue again.)

• I rocked the colored jean my senior year of high school.  If it came in a color, I owned it.  Mauve jean? Check.  Dark green jeans?  Check.  They're coming back in style soon.  Trust me.  (Y'all. I was RIGHT.  They are BACK in style! Sadly, I'm so out of style, I haven't even bought any yet.)
• For a few years I owned the tailored blazer.  Literally and figuratively.  In fact, I still actually own them; in navy, brown, mustard, cream, green, black...   Let me know if you need to borrow one.  (Still have them . . . in case anyone was interested. . . )

• My current obsession are sweater coats and scarves.  I own a lot.  In fact, there's a good chance that on any given day, I'll be wearing one or the other.  Or both.  I need an intervention.     (I am just adding these pictures.  Bless. My. Heart.  Embarrassing.  Clearly, this is still a problem.) 

5.) I can't do a cartwheel.  (Still true. I can promise you this ain't changing.) 

So what do you think? Would we be real-life friends?  

Are We Practicing What We Post?

As details from the Gosnell trial started leaking out last week, the outcry from the nation, especially the Christian community, has been huge.

I tried to ignore the facebook links to the story for a while, but I eventually gave in and read the court proceedings.

With my eyes welling with tears and stomach turning, I read the details.  It was horrific.  Human depravity at its worst.

Whatever your views on abortion, the fact remains that this was a degradation of human rights not only for the babies, but also for their mothers.

I am a mother today because three women chose life.  I am honored and humbled to have been given the opportunity to call these boys my sons.  Reading what was done to women and children in that clinic absolutely appalls me and breaks my heart.

Honestly, friends, I have no desire to stir the debate over abortion.  The fact of the matter is that women are going to continue to have them, whether legally or illegally.

Instead, I want to speak to my Christian community today, to those holding tightly to the mantle of the right to life for everyone.

As I scroll through my newsfeed on Facebook and my Twitter updates, the cry against abortion rings loudly from my friends and acquaintances.  We weep at the horrors of Gosnell and his clinic, post pictures of babies that have been aborted to prove their pre-natal development, and rail against our legislators for not doing more to stop abortions nationwide.

Typing a facebook status, sharing a link to an article, posting a picture is pretty easy.  Heck, standing in front of a clinic, asking women to reconsider their choice is fairly easy.

Christian community, if we are serious about lowering the rate of abortions in this country are we ready to care for the babies that are born to mothers who may not be able to adequately care for them?

Studies have shown that the face of women choosing abortion is changing.  It's no longer the unwed, teenage girl getting forced to give up the baby by her parents.  Research has shown that the growing percentage of women choosing abortion are single, african-american women in their 20's, with more than one child, and living below the poverty line.  A report from the Guttmacher organization states: 

“The proportion of abortion patients who were poor increased by almost 60%—from 27% in 2000 to 42% in 2008.” As you might expect, the profile of the abortion patient is disproportionately poor, as well as disproportionately Black or Latina.
In the study, poor women's “relative abortion rate was more than twice that of all women in 2008... and more than five times that of women at 200% or more of the poverty level.” 

From an NBC News Report:
"In fact, the women come from virtually every demographic sector. But year after year the statistics reveal that black women and economically struggling women — who have above-average rates of unintended pregnancies — are far more likely than others to have abortions. About 13 percent of American women are black, yet new figures from the Centers for Disease Control show they account for 35 percent of the abortions."

The pro-life movement, interestingly enough, has continued to grow, with the Gallup poll indicating that 47% of Americans in 2010 considered themselves "pro-life" versus 45% as "pro-choice." 

More and more Americans are defining their stance on the issue, with the Christian community of "pro-lifers," seemingly taking on the most vocal role. 

So, as the demographic of women choosing abortion continues to trend toward minority and lower-income women and the American population seems slowly be heading more in the direction of a pro-life stance, what does that mean? 

It means that there should be help on the way for these women. 

The cycle of poverty is entangling and overbearing.  As we have watched personally in some of the precious lives around us, it is a heavy-handed oppressor often making an individual feel as though there is no way out. 

As a Christian community, are we willing to invest in the life of a mother who chooses life? Are we willing to spend time with these women, helping them to step out of the cycle of poverty? 

Getting a child through the first nine months in their mother's womb CANNOT be enough.  Mothers who are considering abortion but decide instead to carry the child are most likely already facing a myriad of stresses in their daily life. That's why they are considering abortion in the first place.  

My prayer is that we, as a Christian community, would become a support system for those women.  I pray that we would leave the comfort of our middle-income existence and step into the lives of women trying to make it one day to the next.  

Please hear me that I'm not suggesting that all middle-income (majority white) pro-life advocates march into the inner city and start telling people how to live.  What I envision are relationships, real friendships, developed over the common thread of life and children and hope.  Because when you have people in your life that are walking through difficulties with you, offering support and encouragement, you start to realize that you can thrive, and not just survive.  

Investing takes effort and patience.  It takes a committed desire to be intentional with your time and a willingness to care for others when it's difficult and messy.  Investing in the life of a mother in poverty means working with her in how to save money, how to interview for jobs and write a resume. It means putting aside your socioeconomic world-view and being willing to step into her life.  It means loving radically, deeply, and without judgement.  

If we are going to make a stand against abortion, then we have to BE THERE when women choose life for their child.  When we plead with women not to end their pregnancies, we must then, in turn, help them when they have the baby.  

Intentional, committed, and in it for the long run.   

We can spout statistics, talk about the gestational development of a baby, and list the emotional and physical risks all day long.  That's easy.  But are we really willing to do more than vocalize our beliefs? 

What about the 400,000 children in foster care across our country? Their parents choose life for them, but couldn't provide a safe place for them to grow and thrive.  

We asked them to give them life.  Now, are we going to help them LIVE? 

Or the 100,000 children in the United States that are waiting to be adopted?  Their parents chose life for them, but because of addiction, neglect, or other factors, could not continue to raise them.  These children have spent years in the foster care system and they are READY for a family. 

Christian community, if we are serious about fighting for the right to life, then we need to be serious about being a part of the rest of their life.  

There should NOT be a waiting child adoption list in this country.  Plain and simple.  If the Christian community is going to fight for the right to life, then we need to fight for a healthy and safe life for them as they grow into adulthood.  We need to step up and provide that for them. 

The abortion discussion MUST NOT end at birth.  If we truly believe every child is precious and wanted, then we have to act like it. 

I'm challenging us to move from behind our computer screens and into action.  Rather than point fingers, let's get to know some women in need of a support network and start investing in their life.  Let's move the number of waiting children in our country to zero.  Let's make sure that the hundreds of thousands of children in foster care are in safe, stable homes of refuge.  If we make the right to life our battle cry, then these children and these women are not someone else's problem.  

May our facebook statuses, our tweets, and our blog posts be overshadowed and overpowered by the way we are spending our time and investing in others.   

Letting Today Be Enough

I'm a horrible waiter.

And I don't mean the restaurant kind.

I'm notoriously impatient behind slow drivers, I occasionally interrupt folks taking too long to get to their point, and I read books quickly so that I can find out what happens at the end.

If you've ever taken a personality profile test, this is me in nutshell.

As you can see, I'm a do-er, results oriented, and pretty darn self-sufficient.

(Reading that profile also makes me out to be an incredibly boring human.)

Basically, I love to do things myself and I stink at waiting.

Enter the past few years, where ironically, waiting has pretty much become the story of my life.

Waiting on our international adoption to be completed.

Waiting on our J-man's future to be determined.

Waiting on biological children.

Waiting for the day when I finally feel adjusted in Montgomery.

Waiting, waiting and more waiting.

So many aspects of our life are unfinished and messy.  Exactly the kind of thing that drives me cuh-razy.

It's as if I'm supposed to be learning life lesson through all this or something...

In early February, I headed with Tyson to the local Social Security office to get him his very own social security number.  It didn't go so well, and we left with our paperwork and the words "Homeland Security verification needed" and "3-4 weeks wait time."

Four weeks later, I called back, hoping to hear something positive.  Nope.  Our case was still being verified.

Fast forward to this past Monday, which was an additional four weeks later, and another phone call to the Social Security office.  This time, I'm told there is no record of our paperwork that is supposedly being verified by Homeland Security.  I would need to come in again and resubmit our documents. Could I be there the next morning?

Um....what?

Next day, I'm there bright and early as the doors open, hoping to get this cleared up.  Again, they can't figure out how to code his documents correctly to garner a Social Security number for our boy.  Homeland Security verification, here we go again.  Four more weeks.

On top of that, because there are some discrepancies on Tyson's name on his Green Card and Visa, the officer at Social Security told me we'd have to resubmit everything to Homeland Security for a correct green card, then change his name in our state court, and then reapply for a Social Security number with his corrected name.  All of it would take months to finish and loads more paperwork.

Tired of filling out paperwork and on the verge of tears, I left and further fumed about it on my car ride home.

Waiting and waiting and waiting.

In frustration, I called Brian to vent.

His response: "The good news is that Tyson is in our home, not across the ocean.  He's home, Les, we'll work the rest out in time."

The nerve of that man.

I'm trying to have a pity party over here and he is ruining it.

And then there is our J-man's story, which is still unfolding.  Things are moving very slowly in his case due to a backlog in the court system and so we wait and wait and wait for the next step in his future.

We have an amazing array of social workers, resource workers, and a guardian ad liteum that are fighting for the best and safest permanency for J-man. But even they can't move things along any quicker.

I get pretty frustrated as each day passes and we have no word of our next court hearing. In another conversation this week with Brian, I was lamenting on the snail's pace that J-man's case was taking. I want it finished, I want a happy ending, and I want it now.

Brian's response: "He's still in our home, Les, and we need to celebrate that.  He's with us today, let's focus on that."

How dare he bring gratefulness into the conversation when I am clearly trying to whine.

In all honesty, there doesn't seem to be a part in our lives right now where we are not being asked to wait.

We are waiting on answers that have been a long time coming.  It's been years for some, months for others, and all of them are completely out of my control.

Frankly, I don't like it.

Despite my distaste for waiting, the fact of the matter is, the wait still exists.

So, thanks to some gentle reminders from my husband, I'm working on my focus.

When I spend my time thinking and stewing over what I'm still waiting for. . .

          ~Tyson's U.S. documentation finalized

          ~J-man's permanency plan

          ~Our inability to have a biological child

          ~Life in Montgomery to be easy as I'd like it to be

. . .then I am missing out on my life.  My one life.  The one that's flying by at a rapid rate of speed.

I don't want to live in such a way where I am always pining for future wants, needs, or events. That is a slippery slope of envy, bitterness and ingratitude.

Spending my time focused on what I'm waiting for means is that I live like today isn't enough.

Today, with it's frustrations, laughter, mistakes, and joy has to be enough.  Brian and I have already missed out on years with TD, five months with Tyson, and potentially years with J-man if he leaves our home.  For that simple reason, each and every day is a treasured gift for our family.  I need to be IN IT,  instead of continually dreaming about what things will look like when all my waiting is finally over.

I have been entrusted with the care of three beautiful lives, a wonderful man, a home with ample room, and a job that allows me to be home at an integral part of the boys lives. I want my family, Brian and the boys, to know and truly believe that they are enough.  Who they are today will be celebrated, loved, and appreciated.   

Admittedly, I have spent too much of my time waiting for an outcome, (preferably MY outcome), to the unanswered questions in our life.

No longer.

Today has to be enough.  

Some of you are right there with me.

Waiting on that job.

Waiting on him.

Waiting on a child.

Waiting on a cure.

Waiting on that raise.

Waiting for them to change.

Waiting for this season to end.

There are many of you who have been waiting a long time too.  I'm walking this road with you. The fact is, there will always be something we can wait for in this life.

Let's allow our today to be enough.

It has to be, my friends.  It's all we have.