Adoption Journey: Part 3

[Click here to read "Adoption Journey: Part 1"]
[Click here to read "Adoption Journey: Part 2"]


We finally scheduled [read: hounded CPS relentlessly until they caved] a personal visit to meet Asa. We only had a two-day break between two consecutive weeks of ministry travel, and we needed to get our hands on that little guy! The girls were at "Grammy Camp" at my mom's, and Landen was away working at summer camp, so Luke went with us.

On a bright and steamy morning in July, we drove to the social services office in Smith County. And we waited.

Eventually we were led to an out-dated little room ... stale with musty smells and muffled noise. The room was equipped with a small play table, a crate of old toys, a sunken sofa, a creaky glider, and a camera mounted in the corner. With holes in the upholstery and a sticky film on the floor, to me it felt like a neglected thrift shop.

Soon the case worker walked in with a child who had been woken from a nap, taken from his car seat, and dropped-of by his foster mom. We wanted to pounce, but needed to be patient.

He began to cry. I looked at him and gulped back tiny hot tears.

Philip took him and held him close, but the stranger-baby who seemed supernaturally familiar continued to cry.

I watched helplessly (while shutting down emotionally ... ever-so-slightly ... it's what I do).

We tried all the tricks in our six-kid book. Nothing would soothe his frantic cries.





Ultimately he gave up and fell asleep ... his face sweaty and swollen from emotional exertion.

At one point, he opened his eyes and looked up at me. It was disturbing to me that he was neither soothed nor scared by my holding him. He just lay there still, slowly blinking those gorgeous big brown eyes at me ... ... still interjecting mini-gasps for every other breath.

We gently took turns holding that warm, wonderfully squashy baby boy. We rocked and took pictures and whispered words of hope.

Our two hour visit seemed both brief and eternal - over an hour of emotional strain mingled with many faint rays of hope and glimpses of bright possibilities. 

I remember a few details...

His shirt smelled like fresh laundry. His big brown eyes had a sad glaze that didn't quite match the cheerful photos that had filled my mind to that point. He seemed healthy and strong. I remember Luke being quietly helpful. And Philip was amazing - confident and nurturing and strong.

The social worker came in and announced that our time was up. We packed up the baby and his gear, and soon the foster mom walked in. We introduced ourselves, thanked her for her kind efforts and care, awkwardly kissed Asa goodbye, and handed him back over.




I will always remember the shirt Luke wore that day. I read it a hundred times while I bounced and paced and shushed that sweet baby boy - feeling so completely inadequate.


"Protect this house, I will."


I know I can be SUPER cheesy ... but God made me this way, and He knows how to speak straight to my dairy-laden soul. And so I believe - that in that moment of weakness - He gently reminded me of His promise ...


"Protect this house, I will."


The car ride home was pensive and silent ... except for the Casting Crowns cd in the background.

Lift your hands, lift your eyes.
In the storm is where you'll find Me.
And where you are, I'll hold your heart.
I'll hold your heart!
Come to Me, find your rest
In the arms of the God who won't let go ...

The next day Philip and I drove back along the same stretch of highway to take a flight out of Dallas. As we passed the Tyler exit, I thought about how close we were to Asa - and still so far away.
My emotional dam found fault, and gave way.
Tears steadily streamed down my face onto my shirt for more than an hour.

The gravity of this beautiful mess.
It was almost too much.

God had mercifully ordained that we spend the next few days at the Celebrate Recovery National Summit. A marvelous place where brokenness is encouraged, recovery is celebrated and messes miraculously morph into messages.

Surrounded by soul-level companions, [and exactly zero children, ahem] we were able to process all that God was doing. We worshiped and learned. We looked at Asa's photos often, and phoned our kids at night. We dreamed big dreams, believed the best, thanked God for being in charge, and prayed for grace to trust Him more.


* to be continued

[Click here to read previous posts on Adoption]

Adoption Journey: Part 2

[Click here to read "Adoption Journey: Part 1"]

In July 2013, we got a call from CPS that Philip's sister had relinquished her rights, and a judge had placed 5-month-old Asa with us. 

I wept.

For how heart-breaking and selfless a decision that must have been for her. 
For that precious little boy with all his hurts and healing.
For me. Heart-broken and yet thrilled. Scared and yet determined. 
Silencing selfish thoughts one by one as they attempted to have a voice. 

Shortly after hearing the news, Philip and I headed to Florida with the youth choir.  Riding in the front seats of a church van, we processed together ... asking sideways questions then staring down the road ... wondering when we'd arrive at the answers.

I realized I was battling my own attachment issues ... Whole-hearted, life-long commitment to a child I had yet to hold. 

(Besides the solitary newborn photo with Philip, I didn't even know what he looked like.)

God knew precisely what I needed ... hour upon hour of riding down a highway ... staring straight ahead with road noise and backseat chatter muffling into a strange, loud clarifying silence. 

Adoption Journey: Part 1

Philip & Asa, Feb '13

Wow. A little over two years ago, Philip was out of town watching the boys play baseball, and stopped by to see his younger sister and her newborn baby.

From Aunt & Uncle, to foster parents, to forever Mom and Dad. What an adventure this has been!

At the first of March, 2013, we learned that, at 5 weeks old, Asa was in foster care. I asked my Friday morning small group to pray with me for this child. I remember sensing a strange attachment to the situation ... not knowing what God might ask of me, but begging for His strength to give me courage, and His love to overshadow my selfish fears.

By April, I was growing more certain of our calling to get actively involved. I checked out a STACK of library books on fostering, adoption, high-needs children, prenatal methamphetamine exposure, and abandonment/attachment issues. I knew nothing ... and I could only live with myself in that condition a few moments more.

First and Foremost

Landen and Asa introducing themselves up close and personal.

Today marks two months since baby Asa came to live with us.

I remember bits and pieces of that scary, exciting day. My mind was a fog of anxious nervousness. I wish I had written down my thoughts, but I know I didn't. I remember that part ... talking myself out of writing down anything.

The house was tidy. It was the big kids' first day of school. Philip was still off work, recuperating from hip surgery. I have no recollection of the chunk of time between carpool and lunch. Or was that the other home visit ... where the case worker and lawyer showed up late, so lunch sat on the stove until they left? See, I don't even know what time they brought Asa to us.

Multitude 9.2.13

Giving thanks to God in community for His gifts ...


3 Gifts White ...
Blank paper
New baseballs
Creamy yogurt

A Gift at 10 am, 1 pm, and 10 pm ...
Life Group
Lunch
Laptop

A Gift Outside, Inside, Upside Down ...
Cool rain
Even cooler shelter from the rain
Elizabeth's octopus made by tracing her hand

Our New Normal

Philip and Asa 

Big day of "firsts" at Southfield!

Today was Landen and Luke's first day back in class at the high school,
Ardyn's first day of public school at the Jr. High,
Ashlin's first day to be OJR: "Oldest Johnson in the Room",
Elizabeth's first day to NOT be the YJR, because it was
Asa's first day to live in our home.
(Philip and Mari and I had fun too:)

We began snapping photos right after the case worker and lawyer drove away.

He was so happy all day long. We are all the way in love with this little guy!



This is Ashlin's third rodeo with a 7-month-old sibling. She's got this.



And here is video documentation exploiting Gizzy's not-so-subtle anxiety 

concerning her recent dethronement. Bless her heart:)

AND please note that in this video we are prompting for the word, "Ash" ... short for Ashlin:)

Hopefully I'll get photos of Asa with the older kids tomorrow. And maybe me.

Thank You, God, for a very good day!

Summer Sabbath

 

In the warmth of evening shade, the kids rolled out the slip & slide and had a blast!

 

Landen roars, Ardyn mocks, Mari Alice giggles at those silly people.

 

 

Mari thought she could make it farther if her older brother tossed her onto the slide.

 

 

Ashlin made it roughly a yard and a half on her first "run"... and cracked herself up.

 

 

Elizabeth is wary of this entire operation, Mari Alice is all in, Landen seems concerned.

 

 

Ardyn Grace ... "who me? say wuh?"

 

 

Landen spins around to find Elizabeth cringing at such perpetual moisture.

 

 

Sweet sloppy Mari Alice with Ash-bash, the photo-bomber.

 

 

And ... we finally got the He-Man, Luke to come join the fun.

 

 

 

Thank You, God, for these fantastic kids. Thank You for their handsome dad, for our backyard, for running water, and for all the memories we're making together. Knit us together in love so that we are a soft, secure space for Baby Asa. In this final week of "8 is almost enough", draw us each closer to You and help us love each other well. Thank You for loving us first and for promising to never leave us. Give us the courage to be hopeful, and the strength to be selfless. It's all You!

Committed

I have trust issues. With humans mainly. I don't like it when people are dishonest. There are a lot of folks who simply don't tell the truth. If I interact with very many in a row, I'm sorta ready to live out my days in a cave.

When I was young, my family endured a betrayal of sorts. After that pivotal season, though what we understood of forgiveness had been offered, we each had to navigate relationships through wounded feelings. I subconsciously decided to dive deep into a dream world of denial. "Everything is fine. If it's good, it's probably not that good, and if it's bad, I simply cannot know about that ... things are really fine."

When circumstances looked favorable, I quickly considered all the many ways they could shift -without warning - toward my demise. When life was hard, it instantly proved all my fears were merited ... until the next second when I would ignore my honest feelings, deny any hurt, suck up any emotions, and move on. Healthy? Not quite.

Extra! Extra!

If I had a dollar for every time I've been asked ...

"Are y'all going to have more children?"

My enthusiastic and definitive response has often been:

"Well, I won't be birthing any more, but if God wants to bring more into our home, I'm happy to raise them!"

And now ... the time has come.

In January of this year, Philip's sister gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, but she is unable to raise him. After months of processing - emotionally, legally, and prayerfully - he has been placed with us in a foster-to-adopt relationship.

We are expecting baby Asa to join us the first week of August. He will be six months old and we are VERY excited.

I want to write more about this special journey, but I have a couple things to do around here...
I can't wait to share more of this precious child and the marvelous way God is writing us into his story.

Thank you for praying for us when you think of us. We KNOW God is all over this, so we wait in hopeful expectancy.

 "Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us,  to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." Ephesians 3:20-21