Change

If there’s one thing that’s guaranteed in life, it’s change. Like it or not, life is a constantly moving, ever changing, nothing can stop it series of events. Even when we’d like to push the pause button and stay right where we are, the sheer force of time will move us. About the only thing we have control over is how we react to the change. We can choose to embrace it and see it as God’s hand on our lives or we can rail against it and go kicking and screaming into it. I’ve done both. Many times.

I can tell you from my experience it’s much easier (in the long run, anyway) to embrace change and look for God’s best in every situation. When I approach a situation – good or bad – with an attitude of “what is God doing in and through this”, I tend to weather the storm with a lot fewer bumps and bruises. That’s not to say that it doesn’t suck, but usually it will suck less if I don’t fight it. The hard stuff in life really does make me stronger, more sure of my faith in God and better able to help others through their particular trials. I don’t try to over-simplify challenges or over-spiritualize every situation, but the longer I walk with God, the more I understand that His timing and purposes are perfect and always, always, always better than anything I can manufacture myself.

One of my favorite scriptures is James 1: ² Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, ³ because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. ⁴ Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. ⁵ If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. ⁶ But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.

There have been many times in my life that I thought “Really? Do we have to go here again? Haven’t I learned this lesson, Lord?” Obviously the answer is no, or I wouldn’t have to go through it again. Duh. Thankfully, once I get, I really get it and we can move forward again. It’s kind of like teaching your kids to say “thank you”. You remind them over and over again until one day it’s automatic. A change has happened in their little brain and something clicks. That’s how God is with us. He puts us in situations, changes things up in order for us to finally “get it” – to realize that His will is perfect and he only has the very best for us. In everything. All we have to do is trust Him. Pretty simple, really.

Taking JOY in the journey,

Lori

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Adoption Part Three: I’m too young for this

It’s been awhile since I started the adoption story, so I apologize for the delay. Life, as they say, got in the way…

If you are new to this story, you can read the first two adoption blogs here https://thisjoyfuljourney.wordpress.com/2011/12/01/adoption-part-one/ and here https://thisjoyfuljourney.wordpress.com/2011/12/20/adoption-part-two-learning-to-love/

Party of 5. Overnight we had gone from typical young couple with 2 small children; pretty sure we had life covered, to not having a clue what to do with this newest member of our family. I think the only thing that saved us (besides God’s hand, of course) was that fact that we were so young. At 30 we still remembered what it was like to be a teenager to a certain degree. The challenge was the complexity of Kem’s situation. We were in uncharted territory – with no previous exposure to anyone who had suffered abuse, we had to rely solely on God’s divine wisdom to deal with this new “normal” for our family.

Kem was very clear from the outset. She wanted rules, wanted to know her boundaries. She’d never had consistency in her life and she was starving for someone to care enough to give her reasonable limits. How interesting, considering most 17 year olds can’t wait to get out from under the authority of their parents. For Kem those boundaries, that authority (the “right” kind) was like food to a starving man. Our home became her oasis. Her refuge. With us she could finally find some peace – even in the midst of the chaos of two very active little girls.

It took a while for Kem to get comfortable in our home, in our family. There were times when she would react as if she expected us to treat her the same way her old family had. One incident in particular comes to mind: I was cooking spaghetti for dinner and Kem was helping me in the kitchen. Rhett was standing in the doorway, joking and teasing in his usual way. After I poured the dry spaghetti into the pot, Kem was putting the remainder into a new container when the bag broke and spaghetti spilled all over the floor. Rhett and I froze as Kem flinched and ducked, arm shielding her face in anticipation of a blow. Rhett and I calmly (although I know my heart was beating so hard) bent down to start picking up the dried spaghetti. Kem watched us for a moment then bent down to help, all the while watching warily to see if one of us would strike her. When everything was back in order, she bolted for her room and shut the door. I don’t remember if we had dinner that night, but I do remember the hours spent holding her as she cried and reassuring her that we would never, ever hit her. I still get chills thinking about it – and marvel at how far God brought her in such a short time.

Slowly but surely, God brought situations to Kem’s mind and we dealt with them one by one. Situations would trigger memories and emotions and we would talk for hours as we helped her deal with her past. I am still amazed at how God literally spoke through us as He began the slow healing process in Kem’s heart, mind and spirit. Kem learned to have fun and thoroughly enjoyed playing with the girls; coloring, swinging on the swings and even playing in their little plastic pool. She’s still upset that I have photos to prove that one! We’re a family of huggers and at first she was a little put off by our affection. Now she’s the first one to hug pretty much anyone she meets.

Looking back, that first year was certainly difficult, but that’s not what I remember most. I remember seeing the joy on Kem’s face opening her very first Christmas presents. The happiness when she experienced her first birthday party. The laughter when the girls splashed her in the pool. The joy on her face the first time she beat Rhett at basketball (although he still insists he let her win). And the pride in her eyes when she graduated from high school with honors. We all learned so much that first year. And the journey had really just begun.

Taking joy in the journey,

Lori

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Adoption Part Two – Learning to Love

Once Rhett and I signed on to God’s plan we had an initial conversation with Kem.  We invited her over for dinner and began asking questions about her home life.  We wanted to hear from Kem that there was abuse happening, wanted her to admit she needed help.  Her first question was “why do you care?”.  A valid question, and not one we had a precise answer for.  We just knew we had to do something.  There had been people in Kem’s life through the years that knew there was abuse happening – mandatory reporters to Child Protective Services: pastors, teachers, doctors. But it was a small town and no one wanted to get involved. Besides, Frank was a very intimidating man: 300+ pounds, carried a gun…I can’t say that I blamed them.  But here we were, young, fairly innocent regarding any kind of abuse – just willing to be used by God to help a young woman who desperately needed someone – anyone – to care.

Kem didn’t want to admit she was being abused – “he doesn’t hit me all the time” – but we finally helped her see that anyone that left the kind of marks we’d seen (and many more we hadn’t seen) was abusive. We convinced Kem we wanted to provide a safe place for her, a home, when things got too bad where she was. It took about 9 months to gain her confidence and for us to find a house that would accommodate an addition to our family. Our first rent house in Turlock was a very small 3 bedroom on a busy street. I started praying very specifically for a 4 bedroom home in a quiet neighborhood, which we could afford. God was faithful (as we would experience many times!) and we were able to rent a 4 bedroom house on a cul de sac within walking distance of an elementary school and the small university in town. It was comforting to know there was a city police officer living at the end of the cul de sac, just in case. Frank had made threats against us to Kem, but never tried to contact us himself. We felt confident that God was writing this story and would take care of us and the girls in the process.

There were some people who tried to discourage us from “getting involved”. Well-meaning friends thought we didn’t know what we were getting into, but when God speaks it’s best to obey and trust Him. We moved into the house in April with the belief that Kem would be living with us at some point. It took a while, but two weeks into her Senior year she called and asked us to come get her. When Rhett brought her home all she had was two small boxes of clothes and personal items. The emotional baggage followed closely behind.

Looking back I can see how perfectly God orchestrated that time in our lives. Brenna and Devon were just 4 and 2 years old, so we didn’t have any of the jealousy or “why is she here” issues. They were just excited to have a big sister. The girls went to bed by 8:00pm every night, so after that it was “Kem” time. We’d help with homework, spend time together or, more often we’d talk until after midnight. God was so present in that time. He would speak to either me or Rhett (sometimes both) about something that Kem was dealing with, and when we approached her she would look at us in wonder when we described what she was feeling. It was such a God thing – definitely not something we would ever have known on our own. God equipped us one day at a time, situation by situation. It was a constant, ever-present “knowing” that He was in control. Sure, there were times when I wondered what we’d gotten ourselves into, but I don’t recall ever wishing for anything different. Kem being in our family was the new “normal”. Our family of 4 was now a party of 5.

As Rhett likes to say “let the games begin”.

Next: I’m too young for this…

Taking joy in the journey,

Lori

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Fear

What are you afraid of?

I had a conversation with a young friend recently and this topic came up. She was struggling with fear on several levels and desperately wanted some answers. Fear is a determined enemy. Sneaky, insidious and destructive. Debilitating, even. I struggled with fear over the years until I came to the understanding of exactly where it comes from. I may sound overly spiritual (please bear with me), but fear does not come from God.  “For God has not given us a spirit of fear (timidity or cowardice), but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 1:7 (NKJV) God does not want us to be afraid! Not to put too fine a point on it, but Satan is the source of fear.

When our younger daughters were just 5 and 3 years old I struggled with the fear that something would happen to them. I was afraid they would be hurt, kidnapped or even killed. One day this fear overtook me in a powerful way.  One of my best friends offered to take the girls to the zoo for a day so I could work on sewing their Christmas dresses uninterrupted. We were living in Turlock, California at the time and the nearest zoo was in Merced, just about 30 miles south of town. The girls loved being with our friend and were thrilled with the opportunity to spend time with her. I trusted her completely to take good care of my precious little ones.

Everything was fine for the first few hours. I got so much done! The trickiest part of sewing for me was always buttonholes and zippers, so it was nice to be able to focus and actually get the zippers in without having to rip them out at least once! By midafternoon I was ready for a break and sat down to have a cup of tea and read for a bit. A very rare treat in those days. Fear started snaking its way into my brain as I relaxed in the quiet. Were the girls ok? Had there been an accident? Would anyone know to contact me if one of them was hurt? Ridiculous, I know, but the fear was very real and getting more intense. This was before cell phones, so I had no way to contact my friend and I was rapidly spiraling into panic. I began to pace the house, literally wringing my hands. Then all of a sudden I heard God’s gentle reminder: “I have Brenna and Devon in the palm of My Hand”. I began to pray and rebuke the fear, tentatively at first, then with a boldness that came from the understanding that my fear was not from God.  2 Timothy 1:7 rang through my brain and into my spirit and suddenly the fear was gone. Just a very few minutes later my friend called to say they were at her house and had an awesome afternoon at the zoo!

That day I learned that when I begin to let fear control my thoughts it is a very quick descent into despair and hopelessness. I won’t say that I don’t occasionally struggle with fear, but I am much quicker to take hold of God’s promise and remember that His perfect love casts out fear.

God is greater than any fear. Remember that.

Taking joy in the journey,

Lori

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Adoption – Part One

God + Us = Challenge

I’ve spent a lot of time recently reflecting over the last 30 years. Rhett and I were just 22 when we got married – starry-eyed, full of hopes and dreams – and some pretty unrealistic expectations. On our second anniversary we had a discussion about what we thought our next 5, 10, 15 years might look like. We agreed we wanted two natural children, and thought it would be “neat” to adopt a third child. Perhaps a little older child – 4 years to maybe 6 years old. It’s interesting how God puts desires in our hearts even when we don’t fully understand what it might ultimately look like.

Fast forward to September 1988. After a very rough 7 years, God moved us from our brand new home in Cedar Hill, Texas to Turlock, California. I’ll write about those 7 years later. At the time, we thought we were moving for a job that would get us out of the financial hole we were in, but God had another agenda. Shortly after arriving in Turlock, we met a 16 year old girl named Kem. Kem and her adoptive mom worked in the nursery at our church and we began asking her to babysit our then 3 and 1½ year old daughters. It was great for us, since we were new in town and had no family or friends we could call upon. We had no clue how this new friendship with Kem would change the course of our lives, and forever change the fabric of our family.

Kem was adopted as a baby by a missionary family recently returned from an assignment in Fiji. For the sake of privacy, I’ll call the couple Frank and Jean Smith. The Smith’s had a little boy and were hoping for another baby. The difficulties in the marriage began shortly after they got married when Frank began abusing Jean physically, emotionally, brutally. When Jean had difficulty getting pregnant again, she reasoned that maybe if they adopted a baby girl it would soften Frank and maybe he wouldn’t beat her anymore. They went through a denomination affiliated adoption agency and soon brought home their baby daughter, Kem. Now Frank had two punching bags.

What Jean didn’t realize was that when they brought Kem home from the hospital, she was already pregnant – with another son. It’s hard to say when Frank started abusing Kem – about the earliest memory she has is of an abuse incident when she was about 5 years old. Suffice to say, when we met her in 1988 Kem had been regularly beaten for most of her 16 years. She wouldn’t look you in the eye and was evasive when questioned about visible bruises or marks. Not long after Kem started babysitting for us I began to suspect something wasn’t right at home. I don’t know why – I’d never known anyone who’d been abused – I just knew. One Sunday morning I was running late for church and was dropping our youngest daughter at the nursery.  As I handed Devon over to Kem (over the “Dutch” door – where the bottom half stays closed and top opens to prevent kids from escaping!) I noticed a large red mark on her cheek.  It looked like a strawberry birth mark – dark, red and angry looking. I asked what it was – and without looking me in the eye, Kem responded “it’s a just a rash”. The “mom” in me kicked in and started asking questions – “have you seen a doctor?” “Did you get some medicine?” – all the while not putting two and two together. Since I was running late, the hallway was empty when I turned to leave so I was alone.  I’ll never forget hearing the closest thing to the audible voice of God saying “It’s not a rash. She’s being abused. What are you going to do about it?” I actually looked around to see if there was someone behind me. But I was still alone in the hallway.

Later I found out that God had been speaking to Rhett about Kem as well.  We felt strongly that we needed to “do something” but what?  We were barely 30 years old, two small kids, no money in a new state, new town.  Who were we to interfere in this family? But God had a plan, and gradually we understood our part in that plan.  God wanted us to bring Kem into our family.  Not as a “foster” child, but as a daughter. Only God could make this happen. And I’m so glad He did.

Next: Learning to Love

Taking joy in the journey,

Lori

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