Sunday, February 23, 2014
The call
A year ago I was agonizing over a whisper I had received in my soul to adopt a 4th daughter. Literally, agonizing. My friends and family can attest to my state of mind at that time. My coworkers saw my weary self at work each day as I struggled to discern the right thing to do. My pastor, his wife, and some in our congregation saw the stress. At the time, I actually wished that someone could make the decision for me. That someone could tell me what to do. God doesn't work that way, and this call was mine. Not for anyone else to make. But for me.
What started out as advocating for little Yaoyao, an orphan with thalassemia, to find a family turned into a call for me to adopt once more. To bring her into my family. I really thought that God must be mistaken. I wondered if He was a bit nuts. Or joking. I conceived that maybe it was all in my head. I mean, I am a single mother. To three kids already. And one of them has beta thal major. I work full time. We live in a 2 bedroom condo. Wasn't that enough? My plate seemed pretty full to me. I wrestled with what God was doing. Yet, every time I tried to tell myself, "no, that call is not for you" or "no, you already have too much", my spirit was restless. That is the best I can describe it, although it was more than a vague restlessness. It was much more powerful. It was an agonizing restlessness. I would practice to pretend saying "no, I can't do it", and my spirit felt heavy. Part of me wanted to listen to some of my family, to some of my friends, to others who told me I had completely lost my mind. That I should not do it. I wanted to believe them, that they would know better than God about what was best for me, and my girls, and for little Yaoyao. Because, it REALLY, REALLY seemed crazy. What it came down to, is that I had a choice. I needed to respond to that call. And, there were two possible answers. I could follow that call, clearly a difficult call, or I could be disobedient. My disobedience would have been justified to the eyes of the world. It would have been justified to many of those I love. But, what I realized in a sermon today, was that there really is no excuse for disobedience. Even when the easier answer is to disobey. He explained that when God calls us, or wants certain things from us, it often clashes with the values of the world. Maybe it even clashes with the values or expectations of us from those who love us.
Today's sermon resonated powerfully with me, as I relive the year anniversary of that agonizing over my call. The seminarian's sermon focused on Matthew 4:18-22, where the disciples follow Christ. They had an invitation, a call. And they chose to follow. They gave up alot by following. I am sure that their friends and family thought they were crazy. Maybe they even lost some friends' or family support. I wonder if some of those friends and family thought they completely lost their minds. They had a choice, and they surrendered. They surrendered fears, unbelief of others, everything. All for that call. Their call.
God has called me to do this. Of that I am completely certain. I know it deep in my heart and soul. I still receive the funny looks, the inquisitive questions, the disbelief, of how did I KNOW. How did I know it was a call. I just knew. Just as I know there is a God. A God who cares so deeply about me and my girls. The same God who cares so deeply about orphans. That same God who cares about *all* of us, without any exclusions. Others who have heard a call from God, regardless of what that call is, will understand. I think they might have experienced the wrestling. They even might have experienced the agony of choosing. Is it hard sometimes, as I go along with my life? Absolutely. Does that mean there is no joy? Absolutely NOT. I have experienced joy unimaginable with this adoption. Have I received countless mercies from the people He has placed in my life, to prove to me that I am not doing this alone? Without.A.Doubt. It is "not an easy call, but it's worth it" as seminarian Jeff so eloquently explained to our congregation, whenever we follow the specific call God has for us. We are not called to have easy lives, and I actually wonder if the idea of an "easy life" is a myth.
I think today's sermon was a wink from God. He knew how hard that call was. He knew how hard it was for me to just trust Him completely, in a way I never had before, and how it would change my world forever. How deeply grateful I am for giving me my call. For being patient with me. And for giving me a life I would never, ever want to be any different.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
My heart girl
February is CHD awareness month. CHD is congenital heart disease. One of my sweet girls was born with CHD, and her story is nothing short of a miracle. A miracle from Him above. A grafting of Lianna Tingting into our family.
In October 2005, I took my first mission trip back to Guangxi. It was a moment I had prayed for as I looked out that plane window with tears streaming down my face, holding my new daughter, my first Guangxi girl daughter who made me a mother, in my arms. I knew I wanted to give back to the people who had given me one of my most precious gifts. I wanted to walk among them, show my appreciation, and offer something back. I thought perhaps what I could give were my skills as a pediatric OT. So, on that October day in 2005, I returned to the place where my oldest daughter spent 7 months of her life before becoming mine through adoption. It was a day filled with anticipation. We were going back to Katelyn's orphanage. Katelyn was only 3, and so many people questioned why she should go at that tender age. I just knew she had to go. This work was something *we* would do. Not that I would do. It was HER place, and became mine because she was mine and I loved her. As we arrived at the orphanage to build a small playroom with developmentally stimulating toys, we were struck by the two baby rooms. The orphanage director had us start with the playroom, but then allowed us to go and love on the babies there. It was surreal. I was sitting on the floor where my 1st born daughter had spent her infancy. Little faces all around us. Clamoring for attention. Begging to be held. And then there was one. One who caught the attention of my Katelyn. She was so tiny. So sickly looking. I picked her up and felt only bones. And Katelyn kept coming to kiss her head. This little baby, I was told, needed cardiac surgery. Her little heart was broken, and she could not gain weight because it was working in overdrive. Katelyn continued to kiss her sweet head. This baby was the ONLY baby Kate would kiss. The only one.
Little Tingting waiting for surgery.
We left Guangxi and settled into our routine back home. I really hadn't even thought about another child. Another daughter. But Katelyn began thinking about a sister. She knew. At the tender age of 3. She knew she had a sister. When she began to ask me for a sister, I told her to pray. Imagine my surprise as she replied "He said YES".
Several months later, my friends in Guangxi who had accompanied us to the orphanage that day emailed to say that the little heart baby had her surgery. Her name was Tingting and she was doing better! And the orphanage director was planning to submit her paperwork for adoption. He wondered if I would consider adopting her. A thought that took my breath away as I looked at her smiling face through the photos my friend had sent to me. How would this be possible? How is it possible to become her mother when thousands of families are waiting to adopt? How would she be matched to me? Would that even be a remote possibility? Could her adoption file go to an agency? My agency? Which agency? My mind raced with thoughts of fear, excitement, and faith.
Little Tingting, after surgery, before her adoption papers were submitted.
I contacted an agency. An agency which came highly recommended to me. Little would I know that the email exchange I had with that agency would be with a fellow single mom, who had just started working there. I would become her first family (and the adoption of my sweet Hannah Joy would be her last). The words of this amazing woman confirmed what I thought He might be saying, what He might be showing me "if you leap, the net will appear". I knew it was Him speaking to me through her words. Telling me to trust and take that leap of faith. Even when it seemed next to impossible that I could ever be matched with precious Tingting. Even though I feared how I could possible manage being single with two (HA! As he would lead me to double that number). I took the leap. And God did what He does to form families. The sick, little heart baby we met a year prior, would become ours. I still get chills thinking about how miraculous she really is. The tiny orphanage she came from, before being moved the bigger one she was adopted from, feared she would not survive the 6 hour drive to that bigger orphanage. She vomited all of her formula all of the time, and was desperately tiny. They were told to send her to the bigger orphanage for hope of a chance at life. She survived that 6 hour drive. She survived the first year of her life, living with two big holes in her heart. She was weak. She was delayed. And God sustained my fighter girl. He led us to her. He chose her as the one who would tug at the heart of my 3 year old, as she gently kissed her head that day in 2005. He worked in my heart, teaching me about faith, trust, and provision.
My Lianna Tingting is now 9 years old. She has been home for 7 years now. Her heart is doing its job beautfully. She sees the amazing Dr Lang at Boston Children's Hospital for monitoring. He said the surgery done in China for her was as good as if it were done in Boston. My fellow heart mamas will know the significance of that statement! Broken hearts had always scared me. Even in college when someone in my dorm was having cardiac trouble, I reacted in fear. If I were ever told that someday I would parent a "heart baby", I would have said no way. It scared me that much. The thought of the heart, which sustains life, being broken used to send shivers through me. How naive I was. Now I know that it is not the heart, but Him. He sustains. He has plans for good. He has brought me far from fearing the heart. I now shudder at the thought of remaining in that fear and saying "no, a heart baby would be too much". I would have missed out on the being the mother to my incredible Lianna Tingting. My sweet heart girl has taught me that. She has taught me to seize each moment. She has taught me to stand firm, even in fear. She has taught me to love everyone, and seek the good in everyone. She has taught me we all have broken hearts, and that it is through Him we are made whole. How I love my miracle girl. My sweet heart baby.
In October 2005, I took my first mission trip back to Guangxi. It was a moment I had prayed for as I looked out that plane window with tears streaming down my face, holding my new daughter, my first Guangxi girl daughter who made me a mother, in my arms. I knew I wanted to give back to the people who had given me one of my most precious gifts. I wanted to walk among them, show my appreciation, and offer something back. I thought perhaps what I could give were my skills as a pediatric OT. So, on that October day in 2005, I returned to the place where my oldest daughter spent 7 months of her life before becoming mine through adoption. It was a day filled with anticipation. We were going back to Katelyn's orphanage. Katelyn was only 3, and so many people questioned why she should go at that tender age. I just knew she had to go. This work was something *we* would do. Not that I would do. It was HER place, and became mine because she was mine and I loved her. As we arrived at the orphanage to build a small playroom with developmentally stimulating toys, we were struck by the two baby rooms. The orphanage director had us start with the playroom, but then allowed us to go and love on the babies there. It was surreal. I was sitting on the floor where my 1st born daughter had spent her infancy. Little faces all around us. Clamoring for attention. Begging to be held. And then there was one. One who caught the attention of my Katelyn. She was so tiny. So sickly looking. I picked her up and felt only bones. And Katelyn kept coming to kiss her head. This little baby, I was told, needed cardiac surgery. Her little heart was broken, and she could not gain weight because it was working in overdrive. Katelyn continued to kiss her sweet head. This baby was the ONLY baby Kate would kiss. The only one.
Little Tingting waiting for surgery.
We left Guangxi and settled into our routine back home. I really hadn't even thought about another child. Another daughter. But Katelyn began thinking about a sister. She knew. At the tender age of 3. She knew she had a sister. When she began to ask me for a sister, I told her to pray. Imagine my surprise as she replied "He said YES".
Several months later, my friends in Guangxi who had accompanied us to the orphanage that day emailed to say that the little heart baby had her surgery. Her name was Tingting and she was doing better! And the orphanage director was planning to submit her paperwork for adoption. He wondered if I would consider adopting her. A thought that took my breath away as I looked at her smiling face through the photos my friend had sent to me. How would this be possible? How is it possible to become her mother when thousands of families are waiting to adopt? How would she be matched to me? Would that even be a remote possibility? Could her adoption file go to an agency? My agency? Which agency? My mind raced with thoughts of fear, excitement, and faith.
Little Tingting, after surgery, before her adoption papers were submitted.
I contacted an agency. An agency which came highly recommended to me. Little would I know that the email exchange I had with that agency would be with a fellow single mom, who had just started working there. I would become her first family (and the adoption of my sweet Hannah Joy would be her last). The words of this amazing woman confirmed what I thought He might be saying, what He might be showing me "if you leap, the net will appear". I knew it was Him speaking to me through her words. Telling me to trust and take that leap of faith. Even when it seemed next to impossible that I could ever be matched with precious Tingting. Even though I feared how I could possible manage being single with two (HA! As he would lead me to double that number). I took the leap. And God did what He does to form families. The sick, little heart baby we met a year prior, would become ours. I still get chills thinking about how miraculous she really is. The tiny orphanage she came from, before being moved the bigger one she was adopted from, feared she would not survive the 6 hour drive to that bigger orphanage. She vomited all of her formula all of the time, and was desperately tiny. They were told to send her to the bigger orphanage for hope of a chance at life. She survived that 6 hour drive. She survived the first year of her life, living with two big holes in her heart. She was weak. She was delayed. And God sustained my fighter girl. He led us to her. He chose her as the one who would tug at the heart of my 3 year old, as she gently kissed her head that day in 2005. He worked in my heart, teaching me about faith, trust, and provision.
My Lianna Tingting is now 9 years old. She has been home for 7 years now. Her heart is doing its job beautfully. She sees the amazing Dr Lang at Boston Children's Hospital for monitoring. He said the surgery done in China for her was as good as if it were done in Boston. My fellow heart mamas will know the significance of that statement! Broken hearts had always scared me. Even in college when someone in my dorm was having cardiac trouble, I reacted in fear. If I were ever told that someday I would parent a "heart baby", I would have said no way. It scared me that much. The thought of the heart, which sustains life, being broken used to send shivers through me. How naive I was. Now I know that it is not the heart, but Him. He sustains. He has plans for good. He has brought me far from fearing the heart. I now shudder at the thought of remaining in that fear and saying "no, a heart baby would be too much". I would have missed out on the being the mother to my incredible Lianna Tingting. My sweet heart girl has taught me that. She has taught me to seize each moment. She has taught me to stand firm, even in fear. She has taught me to love everyone, and seek the good in everyone. She has taught me we all have broken hearts, and that it is through Him we are made whole. How I love my miracle girl. My sweet heart baby.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Perspectives
Several weeks ago, the idea was suggested to me that perhaps all that is happening in my life was really not all about me. That all of the struggle over getting the school system to provide services for Mia, all of the medical care which now goes beyond hematologic care, all of the obstacles encountered, and all of the daily life "stuff" is really not about me. Or me and Mia. It was suggested that it is bigger than that, for a greater purpose. Perhaps, even though I could not/cannot see it, my life, these things we are going through, are somehow connected to what God is intending to happen in *someone else's life*...such as one of the educators who is unable to provide help to her, or the nurse practitioner who had blocked access to appropriate medical care for much too long, or the other parents who have come to know me as a mom parenting two kids with thal, or a kid with special needs, or a kid with a possible syndrome. I tried wrapping my mind about that idea, and have to admit that I had a hard time figuring out how it could NOT be about me. Or me and Mia. Or me and my entire family.
Then, that idea came up again. In a completely different context. Where the focus was on a sermon of "Do not lose heart" 2 Corinthians 4:7-16. The pastor suggested that during trials we have a choice of perspective. We can choose to look at trials and suffering as individualistic, or we can choose to look at these things as part of a greater purpose. He suggested, that how we choose to look at something can determine how we feel about something. I admit, I have looked at the struggles with Mia as very difficult. Because they really are. Just dealing with beta thal major was pretty big but at least manageable, but a syndrome on top of that? I'm still feeling blindsided. And weak. But, I am starting to wonder if I look at these obstacles (such as getting her the services she needs) differently, will I feel differently? If I look at this as not about me, will I start to feel differently? Is there something bigger is going on here, through my life? Is this trial an opportunity to display the strength, power, and sovereignty of God? I am beginning to think that maybe it is. Because me, as a single parent, certainly cannot possibly manage all of this alone.
Next Tuesday, my advocate and I will be headed to "central office" to meet with the district wide director of special needs services and the facilitator who ran our last meeting. Our hope is that they will be able to hear what needs to be said, if we are off the actual school turf. It's a long shot. I am asking that they change the elementary school Mia attends due to an unwillingness to give her help. Help she clearly needs based on their own testing. And help she clearly needs due to Mia's numerous medical diagnoses. Last week, Mia's teacher decided she did not need to bring a snack along on a field trip. This was after I sent a note and email asking that she have access to those calories. Her response was Mia can have snack at 9:00am, and eat lunch at 12:45 when they return. On a regular school day, Mia does not go longer than 2 hours without access to calories. Her MD's have asked for accommodations, and it is documented in her school file. But there is no plan in place. No health care plan. No 504. There is also medical documentation of Mia's growth failure. She is the size of a 4 year old, at 7.5 years of age. Unfortunately, there is an unwillingness to accept Mia's needs among the school personnel. I really cannot understand the reason why. It is something I wonder late at night. I have tried processing how this can possibly be happening to Mia with several of my friends. No one can come up with a logical reason.
I am now trying to keep perspective. She is my child for a reason, and I am uniquely equipped to fight for her. I am trying to think that maybe this is not all about us. Maybe this is all about a greater purpose. I admit that I can be hard headed sometimes, and so God has had to repeat themes to me which He wants me to learn and understand. The theme that this latest trial is not about me seems to be repeated now twice. And so I am paying attention.
Then, that idea came up again. In a completely different context. Where the focus was on a sermon of "Do not lose heart" 2 Corinthians 4:7-16. The pastor suggested that during trials we have a choice of perspective. We can choose to look at trials and suffering as individualistic, or we can choose to look at these things as part of a greater purpose. He suggested, that how we choose to look at something can determine how we feel about something. I admit, I have looked at the struggles with Mia as very difficult. Because they really are. Just dealing with beta thal major was pretty big but at least manageable, but a syndrome on top of that? I'm still feeling blindsided. And weak. But, I am starting to wonder if I look at these obstacles (such as getting her the services she needs) differently, will I feel differently? If I look at this as not about me, will I start to feel differently? Is there something bigger is going on here, through my life? Is this trial an opportunity to display the strength, power, and sovereignty of God? I am beginning to think that maybe it is. Because me, as a single parent, certainly cannot possibly manage all of this alone.
Next Tuesday, my advocate and I will be headed to "central office" to meet with the district wide director of special needs services and the facilitator who ran our last meeting. Our hope is that they will be able to hear what needs to be said, if we are off the actual school turf. It's a long shot. I am asking that they change the elementary school Mia attends due to an unwillingness to give her help. Help she clearly needs based on their own testing. And help she clearly needs due to Mia's numerous medical diagnoses. Last week, Mia's teacher decided she did not need to bring a snack along on a field trip. This was after I sent a note and email asking that she have access to those calories. Her response was Mia can have snack at 9:00am, and eat lunch at 12:45 when they return. On a regular school day, Mia does not go longer than 2 hours without access to calories. Her MD's have asked for accommodations, and it is documented in her school file. But there is no plan in place. No health care plan. No 504. There is also medical documentation of Mia's growth failure. She is the size of a 4 year old, at 7.5 years of age. Unfortunately, there is an unwillingness to accept Mia's needs among the school personnel. I really cannot understand the reason why. It is something I wonder late at night. I have tried processing how this can possibly be happening to Mia with several of my friends. No one can come up with a logical reason.
I am now trying to keep perspective. She is my child for a reason, and I am uniquely equipped to fight for her. I am trying to think that maybe this is not all about us. Maybe this is all about a greater purpose. I admit that I can be hard headed sometimes, and so God has had to repeat themes to me which He wants me to learn and understand. The theme that this latest trial is not about me seems to be repeated now twice. And so I am paying attention.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)