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!