Our Mission

mis·sion/ˈmiSHən/Noun

1. An important assignment carried out for political, religious, or commercial purposes, typically involving travel.

2. A group of people taking part in such an assignment.

We have found ourselves on a mission.  Traveled to a far-off land.  Carrying out this important assignment is all we can focus on these days - if we are going to do it right, if we are going to accomplish our mission, then we need to remain intensely focused.  

So many things have caught me off-guard, things I never expected would be a part of this journey... namely the reality that we are on a journey.  Wasn't it just February?  Wasn't it just yesterday that we filled out papers to adopt one boy?  Weren't were going to adopt...a boy?

Why is it that I find myself living in a far-off land?  Why is it my heart feels a palatable loneliness and separation from all that I once knew?  I'm still right here, in my home... aren't I? I pull into the parking lot at church, and see all the people I "once knew"... somehow I am always aware that though I live in the same place, attend the same church, shop at the same grocery store... NOTHING is the same anymore.  And no one knows I am gone.

Once, in high school I was sure that I wanted to be a missionary... but that had more to do with a certain boy who knew he was being called to the mission field.  When I read more about life as a missionary in a third world country, he suddenly didn't seem so cute.  But I digress...

Our wings have been clipped.  No longer do we come and go as we please, but each trip is thought over and planned out to the last detail, making sure not to place any undue stress on our little tribe, lest we crash apart on the rocks of emotional upheaval.  I miss my friends.  I miss my freedom.  I miss speaking to people who "get" my life.

So today is all about informing you more intimately of our life, allowing you all to see more clearly what each day looks like; then when we pass you in the Sunday School halls and you ask 'how is it going' and we say 'not so good' you'll know of the reality we speak of.  You'll understand how it is that I have on two different shoes, my hair is flat and I forgot my make-up.

We're on a mission.  We have received our marching orders from the Lord, and we have begun finding the rhythm of our cadence - but the road is getting steep.

I was going to give you a "day in the life of" but I can't choose which hour to begin it in... our clock goes around and around without stopping.  How about bedtime?

Bedtime begins at 5:30pm.  If we aren't eating dinner by 5:30pm then we have lost the bedtime routine that has brought peace (well - what we have come to define as peace) into our home.  At dinner we all sit in exactly the same places, as this has reduced arguing when we sit down and power plays made by our more aggressive kiddos.  Seven plates around the table, with seven glasses at the top of each plate; all marked with a different colored rubber band so that we only have to wash seven glasses a day... instead of twenty one.

After dinner, depending on the mood of our home we all do the dishes.  There is one child among us that was so hurt regarding chores and cleaning in her old home (they were used NOT for shepherding feelings of accomplishment and inclusion - but rather laid upon her, and her alone as a way to punish other siblings who had done wrong.  Their punishment was having to watch her complete these "chores".)  Just asking her to help can trigger a rage response - so we work around her and usually she participates.  On days she opts out, she usually "communicates" her feelings leading out with anger and begins a 2-3 hour process of trying to get us to engage in her chaos and inner turmoil.  We have learned to wait her out - all the while being open and ready to help calm her when she finally allows us to come alongside her and teach her once again how to find peace.  He always brings His Peace... eventually it always comes.

While dishes are being done, and if there is no rage, then the little ones get a bath and we begin lowering lights and change the music over to instrumental music to help us all feel peaceful (by this time of day - it's the two grown ups who appreciate this climate the most!)... 

If it all fell apart, then the dishes will wait on the table while we work in tandem, working together to restore balance to our home.  Our Motto:  People First, Then Things.  It's the only way to fly!

At 7:00 it's off to bed with our two littlest girls.  Their favorite part? "Bible Study like the big girls"... so we sit on one bed together and read of God's Works and Miracles straight from my "pretty Bible"- the gold rimmed pages turning with that beautiful sound - and they are always SO impressed with how BIG He is, and how people come to love Him because He is so Good.  Then they pray, such sweet , sweet prayers and they work down the little list I made for them of people who need to be prayed for - and then I pray for them.  We spend a great deal of time on "no nightmares".  They have never come to get me in the middle of the night - but talk often of dreams that plague them.  And then I tuck one in, she picks a song, I pick a song... I tuck the other one in, she picks a song, I pick a song... and two are down!

Now down to the big girls.  If nothing went wrong while I was upstairs, then there are two "big" girls waiting for me to begin.  They have gotten three glasses of ice water ready for us and we retreat into a bedroom.  We read, each of us taking a turn, slowly making our way through Genesis - I have never read through the Bible before - so it seemed like the perfect choice to take my two girls along with me.  We pray down the list of prayer requests we have acquired from friends (to help teach empathy, compassion and concern for others) and then it's lights out.  My oldest heads up to her room, and I sit beside this volatile one, she picks a song, I pick a song (and in my head I PRAY my GUTS OUT that she will sleep).

I tuck my oldest in - she picks a song, I pick a song...  Meanwhile, my Man has been reading through Genesis with our son, and has tucked him in as well.  I swing by - he picks a song, I pick a song - and down the stairs I go!  It may seem long, 2.5 hours for a bedtime routine, but we decided it beats raging until 2am.  It's a no-brainer. ;o)

If all goes well, she's asleep by 9:30 when we look in on her, and we can retreat together... to the basement where our haven awaits!  (OR we spend our time doing the dishes shoulder to shoulder, sneaking kisses we forgot to give and receive in the climate of business we find ourselves in during waking hours.)

We most often spend our time speaking of the day - what went right - what went horribly wrong, and how to avoid it tomorrow... and how crazy we are for living like this.  "Is this crazy?" we ask ourselves?  Each night we conclude "Yup."

"Can we sustain this?" we ask each other.  "Tomorrow," we always say "we can do tomorrow".  No one would fault us for saying it's un-doable.  No one who has seen her rages, witnessed the anger, the lashing out would ever say "you gave up too soon".   But we would know... we would know we had failed.  We could have done one more day.

God wants us to keep pressing on - I know, I ask Him all the time! (is that horrible? :o)... and so press on, we will!  Last night I asked my husband "'could you ever give up?" (it had been a particularly hard night) and he answered me, "No way, I love her!".  Somehow this little porcupine has found a way into our hearts.  We could never let go.  But the day isn't over, it has just paused...

We will get up in the middle of the night countless times, to soothe away the fears, to calm the raging, to return the sleepwalker back to her bed.  Last night upon hearing her door open, we jumped out of bed and threw on our clothes to go help her and he turned to me and smiled and said "We're like firemen!"  I burst out laughing!  I love this man God has given me for the journey!  I am a lucky girl.


She never really sleeps - if she's not wandering, she's 'sleeping' and crying and moaning, enduring something we don't understand and can only guess at what is plaguing her as we listen to her wail.

Morning comes too soon every morning.  They start ascending the stairs around 7am (thank goodness they sleep until then!) and we begin again.  I dress her, for some reason this is so important to her - so important to becoming reconnected to me once again, and take her "emotional temperature" so to speak.  I've learned to read her quickly and try to get ahead of those rages as soon as I spot one from far off.

We work to get all five of them dressed and ready for the day, breakfast, dishes, chores...  and we try to figure out which breathing and sighing to ignore, and which to correct.  One little slip of anger left to be unleashed, and we are facing a two hour battle, or more.

The day continues on like this, with intermittent spells of rage from the other two girls - they are not as long, and they are not as violent, but they are exhausting all the same, usually taking us both working together for an hour or more.  

During the day while they are at school, I intentionally fill, fill, fill the love cups of our own two children who have opened their hearts and home to these girls - so openly and freely given and shared their parents with girls who are taking so much of the time they used to know.

After school, I work with her for an hour while my darlin' man takes the other four and we rock, and she learns how to connect again, and we sing together, and we work on training her body to listen to her mind - to obey her - and she loves this part.  It is necessary... every day... it is a non-negotiable part of the day, to help her settle, to help her find a moment of sweetness.

Sometimes we go for long periods of time without seeing the storms... and we get to experience little peeks at what it might be like someday.  These girls are silly - and they are bright and sweet under all the quills they throw our way.  We love to see all five of these children working together, and picture that one day, when they are all healed, we will have accomplished something great for Him... rescued these three from their own violence and rage... and our mission will be complete.

Until then, I will be here.  In my home - watching and training and playing (they MUST learn to play and laugh!) on my "mission field".  And I will try not to envy the freedom I once knew, try not to long for pieces of my old life that held so much flexibility... and I will focus my eyes on Our Mission Field... and thank the Good Lord it's not in a third world country!

A Broken Heart...

Grief has overcome me today.


My chest aches, such a heaviness in my heart and through my very being. I feel pinned down by the weight of it all - as if I might burst at the memory of it.


It was a simple task that prompted it, just my own hands following the routine of Saturday morning breakfast, that jolted her to my mind, and instantly I felt my heart rip apart.


It's not always this way, most days those big brown eyes come to my mind's eye and I smile at the days we spent together - 19 months right to the very day... 19 months of love, and sharing my heart; of giving all of myself to a little brown baby I wanted to call my own.


I remember the night they put her in my arms... the very moment my hands touched her.  All chubby and round, and I found fear in her little eyes, scared at the drama she found herself caught up in.  I watched her sleep all night, just wanting her to feel safe in our home, wanting to fill whatever it was in her that might be empty or broken; to awaken the parts of her that had yet to stir.


And all the next day, as I rocked her and sang, I prayed that the Lord would give me a Mother's Heart for this child - so that she could grow up in the arms of sacrificial love; begged Him to teach me how to give my heart away to a child who never knew my heartbeat... all the while knowing that she might one day leave with this very heart of mine.


I keep pulling myself away from the hustle and bustle of this noisy, happy house today - looking for space to grieve my baby.  "She was never really yours" someone said to me awhile back... this may be true in the legal realm - but my heart, my soul, and my arms knew no difference.  


And I know without a doubt that she didn't know either - she had come to rest easily in that place of belonging... this child of my heart that never knew my breast.  The little babe that stood in front of our family's Annual Christmas Talent Show curtain singing: "Ninkle, Ninkle, Little Star" and knew that she belonged - and basked in the safety of family, of Love, of Him.


I ache today, at what she must think.  Where is my Mommy?  Where is my Daddy?  Why can't I be with them?  What did I do wrong?  Am I safe?  


And I pray, oh how I pray.  I cover her in earnest prayer that the Lord would go in my stead, and speak to her little heart.  That He would protect her, fight for her, surround her, save her, nurture her, guide her and call to her all the days of her life.


And then I lay her at His feet once again, trusting Him to care for this child while I cannot.  Trusting that His love for her is greater than anything I could ever give her, or feel for her and that His goodness is unchangeable and eternal.


Still, I grieve.  I wish there was a way to feel this sadness without enduring the physical pain I feel in my chest.  It is unsettling and it is crushing.


As I listen around my home I can hear the feet and shouts and squeals of three more babes that have found their way into my "mother space" and I wince at the grief that is most likely to come one day.  I have done it again - given my heart away, recklessly wrapping it around three babes who needed the covering of sacrificial love, mother love.  I fight the desperation that rises inside me.


The only good I can see today in all of this is the lesson to love hard, to love intentionally and to never wait until tomorrow.  Today is all I am guaranteed with these girls - today is all we have to teach our children what it means to lay our lives down for another... to teach them to Love.


I anxiously await the quiet of my evening, where I can find the privacy needed to share my heart with my husband and faithful partner on this road - the only other one that knows the loss of my heart and shares it's searing pain.  I know already where he will take me - straight to the Author of this Love I find myself giving again... and together we'll find rest, and healing.


And now, I have to find a way to press on.  For there are five children in this home that need a mother with a heart that is alive and flowing freely.  So I will continue to look to Him to help me walk this road with confidence, that when the day comes that I have to say goodbye, He will be there waiting... waiting to heal my broken heart.

Great Wolf Lodge

We waited to tell them where we were going until we were almost there.  They wanted to know why we had the cooler with us.  "Because we have a lot of errands to do, and we're going to be gone a long time, and I don't want us to get hungry."


"Oh.  Well, why do we have all those suitcases?"


"In case it rains.  Then we have dry clothes and all the coats."


"Oh.  Well, why do we have to drive so long?"


"Oh, well... (think, think, think...) Every so often you have to drive your van to Olympia and get it registered.  We're going to do that today."  (Please forgive me for lying to my kids, Lord.)


...And then Daddy gave them the news.  We took all five by surprise!  And that was my favorite moment... until the other 1200 favorite moments that came after that.


We checked in and then came some of these:


"Oh, Daddy, it's a PALACE!  You bought us a palace for our trip!"


"Thank you, Daddy.  For showing me what a happy day feels like!"


"Oh Look! (Hands clasped over her mouth) There is a REAL bathtub! And a Fridge-R-rator!  (Squeal!)  And a microwave, OH! and a curtain... oh, these are palace curtains!"


"Oh, Thank you, GOD!"


"Guys?  We are really in a kingdom.  I think we really are!"


"Watch me!  I'm turning on the FIREPLACE!!!"


"LOOK!!! There are BEDS!  LOOK!  Real BEDS just for US!"


...and then there was 1 million trips up the stairs to fly down the "Howlin' Tornado", the wave pool, the Lilly pads, the fort, the kiddie pool, every single tube conquered, the basketball pool, climbing on the snake, complimentary towels (MOM!!! They let you use the towels!!! They are WARM!!!), wearing their brand new flip flops all around, a trip to fill the ice bucket, the testing of the room key ("What if a bad man comes?  Can a bad man get in our room?"), the testing of the room key on all of our neighbors' doors (just to make sure each key only worked for ONE room), a picnic around our coffee table, calling Nanny and Poppy to tell them every single part (times five!), seeing the Howlin' Tornado lit up at night,  family bible study on the big bed ("Hello Nanny?  We were just readin'... do you know the one about Shadrack, Sherack, and Abendeedago?  (Close enough - right?)  Well - they were thrown in that firey fire by the bad king, and Jesus was in there with 'em and do you know that when they came out not ONE HAIR was burned, and they didn't even smell like fire!"), practicing "smiling to your eyes" to new people, "please" and "thank you" and "may I's" all over the lodge without being prompted (!), my first kiss from my middle girl - offered to me on her own (one of my favorite parts!), silly songs sung, a bit of dreaming:  "I wish we could be yours" (me too, darlin'...), and 50 little sleeping toes tucked in - 40 of which got right to sleep... but it's hard to sleep right away when you are five and you are holding a glow in the dark wand... in a palace... :o)


We hopped in that pool right around 9am the next morning, and we didn't stop until 8:30pm.  We did, however, take a bit of an intermission around 2:30.  We had lunch in the Big Living Room, and then let the two jumping beans sleep on the big couches in front of us for hours, while our three big kids ran all over the lodge, solving the MagiQuest.  It was beautiful.  They shared the wand, they worked together, they ran hard and fast, and they came down after every quest was completed to give us an update. We wondered if our girl could handle it... so much patience, so much delayed gratification... and it turned out she led the way to "trying one more" over and over... in fact... they worked for over 4 hours together solving puzzles and sharing that wand together.


We sat in the living room by the fireplace and held down "homebase" and watched them running back and forth and up and down... I was proud of my kids... delighted to see them all working together and sharing and "putting their heads together" to figure it out, encouraging each other, and laughing.


When it was time to leave, they all piled in the van and thanked Daddy for saving and planning and surprising them.  And we promised to go again someday. . . and I thanked the Lord for this beautiful family He has given us for now. . . and for somehow creating something New and Good and Sweet in our family.


Thank you all for praying for our time together.  It was everything we had hoped it would be!

Moving Day...

Last night at 9:00pm every child in my house was asleep.  This is God's gift to us and evidence that He is at work in our home... that His hand is on this little one.  Prior to this calming turn two days ago, our little one once stayed up three days without sleep raging on and on and on...


Our weekend had been horrible... not as bad as before - but definitely not good.  Last week was a constant nightmare, involving running into the road, biting Daddy when he tried to pull her from the danger of traffic, kicking, hitting, scratching, raging... when we tried to take a two day respite break, it took 1.5 hours, 5 workers, 3 car changes (she wouldn't get out of my car), 2 policemen and 1 detective...  I was starting to believe that it wasn't going to be worth it to try to take a break again.  I felt like someone being held hostage by her fearful rages in my own home.


I found myself driving last week as the tears ran down my face "Father... I want to go home!  But I can't find it..."  I'd never known this kind of upset.  I've never lived anywhere that wasn't a peaceful, joyful, loving place.  I began to fear that I'd never 'be able to go home' again.  Doubt crept in... what if she never heals?


We made BIG decisions.  We opted out of attending the family camp that we had believed was going to be her "saving grace"... suddenly being keenly aware that this was NOT what God had laid out for her path of healing.  Both of the books that we had thought would be our "manuals to learn how to parent her" could not be found.  We were staring down the barrel of THREE behaviors we had decided would never be allowed in our home. What were we to do?  

And then I heard Him speak to me: "I will show you".  

And He gave me this verse:  

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; 

   I will counsel you with my loving eye on you. Psalm 32:8

It was enough for me... this reassurance from God Himself.  Still, I would dip into doubt through each moment of raging, of darkness all around me - once texting a friend "I don't know how to hear Him!"... and so she was His very voice in the middle of the darkness "Yes you do.  Be quiet.  Bet patient.  Remember what He's already done.  Be expectant for Him to come through again.  Trust Him!  She doesn't understand what your love is..."

And then my enemy turned up the heat.  Presenting us with an unsolvable problem.  "She can't sleep in the girls' room anymore - now what are you going to do?  You... with a three bedroom house... you're renting you know - you can't make walls in the basement, this house isn't yours!  So now what?  When are you going to tell her that she can't stay?  They won't allow foster children to sleep on the couch - go ahead now and let her go...  It's the right thing to do. Boundaries.  This is just about keeping the other kids safe, and there is no other way.  Go on now... let her go..."

And so back again I went: "Father?  What do we do?"  We told her she could STAY!  We told her we would teach her what it would look like to never have to let GO!  We PROMISED! (Oh, WHY did we promise???)  But the real matter is - we DID.  How then, could we make good on this promise if she had no place to sleep?  And suddenly I knew... we could give her our room.


So after church, at lunch... we told her our solution.  And you would have loved to see her face.  Oh, my!  I do believe she might understand our love for her now!  "You see honey, we all know that you can't sleep upstairs - it's just too hard for you to be peaceful up there, and when you have big feelings the other girls can't sleep.  You can't sleep on the couch, because every girl needs her own space... so you see we're out of options... except one.  The only way you can stay is if we give you our room.  And so after we finish lunch, we'll begin moving our bed to the basement and tonight you will get tucked into your own room!"


And since then we have had ZERO rages.  ZERO accidents at night time, and both nights have been peaceful happenings!  

God will make a way, 

when there seems to be no way

He works in ways we cannot see.

He will make a way for me.

He will be my guide,

Hold me closely to His side~

With love and strength for each new day

He will make a way, He will make a way.

She's Home.....

Our little girl came home to stay on Sunday - just five short days ago.  And it's been perfect every moment - just what I'd hoped for!  She loves being here, and we fill her every need just by being our nurturing, loving, predictable selves.  She is appreciative and grateful, and fully at peace.

Oops.  That's not quite right up there.  Let's try again...

Our little girl came home to stay on Sunday - five of the longest days of my life ago.  And it's turned my home upside down almost every moment - nothing like I'd hoped for, or expected.  She thinks she hates us (sometimes), loves us the next,  but mostly we completely freak her little self out with our nurturing, loving, predictable lives.  She is unsettled, abrasive, impulsive, unpredictable and defiant.

We are drowning in our daily lives.  Every day is about getting through to bedtime, and sometimes that's when it all really starts to heat up.  All our attempts to help her find calm are either fleeting or failures.  There are no Hallmark moments anymore.

Every day I make a withdrawal on "what I can do" and then borrow some more.  I'm so "in debt" to myself in terms of energy stores it's crazy.  My enemy tried to counsel me this morning: "What you're doing is too much - no one can live like this forever - what if she doesn't EVER get better? - you could end up having to KEEP her, ya' know - your life is never going to be the same  - it's UNWISE to give this much to one child - it's unsustainable... and on and on and on........"

Craving "an escape" on my way to school this morning, late, flat haired, frumpily dressed, makeupless, discouraged, feeling anger rise up within myself as I recounted the struggle I went through just to get her dressed, I flipped the radio to 93.9 - maybe I could find comfort in Chuck Swindoll... good ol' Chuck...

He was talking about giving - financially - but God applied his words to my heart in a way that seared my soul.  What about giving in an "extravagant" way?  What would that be like?  Really, what would giving in an extravagant way look like in your life?  Giving more than you really should... more than you really have to give...


And it hit me right then.  That's what I'm doing right now. giving this extravagant gift to God each day.  More than I have... that's what I'm bringing.  Step back world... hang on enemy... my Father LOVES this life - He delights in it as a gift to Himself.  I can't out give God!?! What was I thinking?

I hope it brings Him joy - I hope that my gift is pleasing... I hope He sees my heart coming to Him and lights up at the sight of me... for He's given me a life of extravagance, and I am planning on spending it all on Him!