looking to survive

I can't remember a time when our life has been so delightfully and chaotically FULL. Each of our children could singlehandedly keep us busy, and together the four of them keep our days absolutely filled to capacity. After everyone recovered from Eden's recent medical emergency (a run-in with unexplained anaphylaxis at the beginning of September), our focus shifted to Kami's upcoming vision evaluation.

Most children coming from Kami's background experience some degree of abnormal eye alignment. This comes from spending years laying flat on the back with no meaningful visual stimulation. The first thing a loving mother does is hold her baby in her arms, about 8-12 inches from her face, and gaze into her little lovey's eyes. Kami never experienced this. Since she entered the institution at 6 days old, she was deprived of even the earliest right to eye contact, which is the necessary start of visual development.

Two years ago, her eyes were almost always crossed. I have videos of our orphanage visits that document this. She could scarcely focus on anything or anyone, spending most of the day staring off into space with crossed eyes. Her ability to make eye contact and focus has improved tremendously over the course of her two years in our family. We knew early on that we would eventually need to get her eyes checked out, though. Her first therapist, Jennie, who started working with her 6 months post adoption, noted that Kami's eye turn would need evaluation. Because there was were so many issues that needed to be addressed at that point, we took a triage approach, and vision was not at the top of the list since it didn't seem to be interfering with daily life. 

One of the first things to be taken care of was extensive dental work, which was done under sedation within a few months of adoption, as well as a physical checkup. At the physical, our pediatrician in Louisiana was shocked to learn of the conditions Kami experienced in Bulgaria. Taking into account the gross malnutrition and neglect she had suffered, he was expecting her blood to reflect this history. I remember when he came back into the exam room in October 2014 and told me that her blood was unbelievably healthy. He almost couldn't believe it. On one hand, I was surprised; but on the other hand, I wasn't. We had been praying for months ahead of Kami's adoption that He would preserve her health, and we also had felt much more prepared to deal with emotional problems than physical health problems in a child. Our family doesn't frequent healthcare facilities. We're quite unfamiliar with the processes and procedures of the medical industry, and we just didn't feel like we'd be a good fit for a child who was sure to need extensive medical care. (Not that we can choose these things when we give birth to biological children - but when we adopt, we fill out piles of paperwork detailing what conditions we think we can handle. It's just part of the process, as strange as it sounds.)

At two years post-adoption, it was finally time to pursue the vision evaluation. Her therapist, Kathy, very kindly urged us to get this done. So last week, Kami and I took a special trip together. We drove over to the area of town with the university where Mason and I graduated back in 2007-2008. Now that we live here in Florida again, it's always fun driving over to that part of town where we had our first little apartment as newlyweds! It seems like another lifetime, but it was only 9 years ago. Driving on those roads to the optometrist, I was struck by the fact that when we moved into our first apartment Kamelia was a newborn baby in Bulgaria. While she suffered on the other side of the world, we lived just around the corner from the location of the visual health office where she would be evaluated 9 years later.

This center came highly recommended, and I was excited about the trip. Actually, I was excited that Kami had finally reached a place where I could take her to an appointment and expect nominally good behavior the whole time. I still remember when we could hardly take her outside. The iPad always helps in these kinds of situations, since it's the only time she gets to play with it. All she wants to do on there is look at pictures, especially pictures of us in our Louisiana house.

She understood where we were going, and the office staff understood where she had come from. They were very interested in making the visit as pleasant as possible given her traumatic past. We waited  only a few minutes and then were ushered back to the exam room for a full hour of the doctor's undivided attention. Dr. Chi was a kind, young doctor with a gentle and patient demeanor. He works primarily with special needs kids, so he wasn't thrown off by any of Kami's reactions to him. None of the equipment in the photo was utilized, but she did sit in the chair while he used his flashlights, lenses and prisms to magically discern what was going on in those searching brown eyes of hers.

She only cried out one time, when we put a pair of sunglasses on her, and quickly calmed down with my calm admonition. I did bribe her with fruit snacks as a reward for staying calm. Dr. Chi wisely decided to skip the dilation procedure, as he didn't think it was necessary and knew the benefits would not outweigh the pain. As he carefully got in her face with his lights and lenses, she murmured over and over to herself, "He not hurt you, Kami; he not hurt you." The iPad came in handy since I was able to hold it up for her to view pictures and videos while Dr. Chi examined her eyes. I'd never been to an eye doctor in my life, so the fact that he could shine a light into her pupil and exclaim "I saw it! I saw the nerve!" was pretty amazing. He worked hard to catch glimpses of the internal workings of her eyes, and somehow he saw everything he needed to see.

Kami's eyes, though one of them turns 20-30% of the time, are perfectly healthy. There is no damage, which is a wonder, again, considering the malnutrition and lack of proper development. What she does have is low muscle tone, since her eyes weren't exercised properly as she grew. For her entire life, she's been using her sight only for survival - literally looking to survive. Not looking for meaning, not looking for enjoyment, but looking merely to survive. I can see this now that the doctor explained it to me. This is why I often have to send her back to her room during my final minutes of dinner preparation, because she is staring intently at every food item I put on the counter. She's visually making sure that the food is there, and practically devouring it with her eyes to make sure that she gets some of it. I've figured out that I just can't make dinner with someone staring at me!

Our goal is to encourage her to keep learning to use her eyes for things beyond survival. Dr. Chi said that continuing to encourage her to climb, jump, play, and interact with her world meaningfully is what we should be doing. We're seeing glimmers of this already when she does a puzzle now, for example. It used to be she'd angrily overturn the puzzle and wail because she had zero visual recognition skills. The idea of matching the wooden shape to the matching hole made no sense and had no impact on her survival, so why should she do it? But in recent weeks, she's mastered an entire stack of wooden puzzles in our living room. This simple stack that used to bring her misery now brings her a sense of accomplishment that she knows what to do and how to do it. Our goal is to teach more of these visual skills through practicing matching and recognition.

The appointment was wonderfully encouraging because it confirmed to us once again that Kami is physically very healthy. God, in His wisdom, has equipped us to raise her. This was also the first doctor visit I can think of where the medical professional brought up the name of God before I did. I probably mentioned Him at some point in the conversation (because He comes up pretty naturally anytime we share Kami's story!), but Dr. Chi noted in amazement that there comes a point in optometry studies where everyone has to acknowledge God's design. I had heard this before - that of all the parts of the body, the eye is so masterfully complex and beyond human understanding that it's brought many doctors to their knees in awe of His intricate and intelligent design.

If you're so led, as many of you have been, you can pray for Kami to understand that her eyes are meant to do so much more than merely look to survive.

Kami's new dinnertime verse:

The eyes of all look to you in hope; you give them their food as they need it.

Psalm 145:15

Look, I am about to do something new; even now it is coming. Do you not see it? Indeed, I will make a way in the wilderness, rivers in the desert.

Isaiah 43:19

8 months in America

I've been inspired by a special friend (who is herself parenting a new child from Bulgaria and relying on the same power for the task as we are) to recognize the great positive changes in our new child's life rather than to focus on her current struggles. It's so tempting and easy to harp on the issues that are presently causing us frustration, but how important it is to look back on the incredible, seemingly impossible journey of the last 8 months and see the gigantic leaps that we have seen by the power of God, who is Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals!

The other day I dressed Kami in a swimsuit for the first time and let her loose with a super soaker in the backyard with her siblings. She looked so normal! Years of deprivation and neglect make it difficult for her to move with great coordination, stay focused on a single task, display appropriate facial expressions, and other things. But when she is playing with a squirt gun running barefoot in the grass, I discovered, none of these issues present themselves. She laughs as her big brother squirts her in the face and she pumps that super soaker handle smoothly, with ease. This is a child who, less than one year ago, did not have the muscle strength or coordination to depress a toilet handle to flush it.

The other day she bolted across the house into our bedroom when she heard the sound of her daddy wrestling her siblings on the bed. She knows that these sounds mean fun, and that she wants to be part of it. 

I said "Goodnight, Kami," and she replied with "Goodnight, Mommy." She asked me to show her how to snuggle when we were all loving on Isaiah before his nap (we are a super snuggly family, so this is an important lesson!).

She brings toys out of her room and sits down with them in the family room in order to be with us. She no longer retreats back there on a regular basis to pace and babble.

She drank liquid from a straw during her last therapy session! I found myself cheering as I watched, and I celebrated as I watched her lick her lips for the first time. Early deprivation and neglect led to so many deficits, but as her therapist noted, Kami learns very quickly after being shown what to do. 

Even and perhaps especially in the area of emotional control, Kami has made great strides. She knows when she is feeling angry, sad or hurt, and she knows when she is laughing and happy. She can assign words to those feelings and makes the effort to remain calm or ask for help when she needs it.

Most importantly, and this is what has led to most of the other changes - she knows a great deal of Scripture! She can verbally fill in the blank on many verses, like "God sets the lonely in families" and "Rejoice in the Lord always." When I sing "Jesus Loves Me" and leave out words, she fills them in. No longer humming and singing mindless orphanage songs, she sings praise and worship songs, her favorites including "Cornerstone" and "Build Your Kingdom Here." She doesn't have all the lyrics down yet, but simply hearing the melody come from her mouth is pretty astounding when we remember where she came from.

"My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly trust in Jesus' name

Christ alone, Cornerstone
Weak made strong in the Savior's love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of all"

"Build your Kingdom here
Let the darkness fear
Show your mighty hand
Heal our streets and land
Set your church on fire
Win this nation back
Change the atmosphere
Build your Kingdom here we pray

We seek Your kingdom first
We hunger and we thirst
Refuse to waste our lives
For You're our joy and prize
To see the captive hearts released
The hurt, the sick, the poor at peace
We lay down our lives for Heaven's cause"...

Today was an amazing Saturday. There were no abnormal emotional outbursts, no need for time outs, no need for separation from siblings. This must be real Kami, and we must expect to see more of her! It was amazing to watch Ezekiel, Eden and her play in their swimsuits in the backyard together, enjoying sprinklers and squirt guns, as I reflected on a specific pre-adoption moment from last spring when I remember distinctly longing to have her playing back there with us. It was equally amazing to sit at her bedside tonight as all three of her siblings came in to hug on her and say goodnight, her dad standing in the doorway looking on. For the first time, she volunteered "Ah wahv you" (I love you) as I left the room. She fell asleep on her pillows with a blanket over her, which is very rare - every night I can recall, she has thrown everything off her bed and situated herself face down with her hands tucked under her thighs for comfort. Please forgive the poor quality photo, but I must share it.

She is surrounded by love. And I'm exceedingly grateful that today, there was no need for tough love. We had plenty of that over the past week, and there will be more to come, but God gave this momma the blessing of a day with tough taken out of the equation. 

For all of our mistakes - for all of her meltdowns - for all of my meltdowns - Kami is making spectacular progress towards health in her spirit, mind and emotions. I am proud of her!


And I am humbled to mother these three incredible blessings who are daily being the hands and feet of Jesus to their new sister! To God be the glory for the mighty works He is doing in this family!

all things new

One morning recently I walked across the house to find Kami waking peacefully in her room, putting on her slippers, about to head to the bathroom. Many, many mornings over the span of the past 7 months since her homecoming have been anxious, loud and stressful, but on this particular morning I suddenly realized that peaceful was becoming the new norm. It was the week Ezekiel, Eden and I were studying butterflies in school. You may remember me mentioning that at several points, the children's "words to remember" from our curriculum turned out to be words I clung to myself even as I tried to teach them. This was one of those weeks! Our words to remember were "God can make me new."

They reminded me of this song, "All Things New" by Steven Curtis Chapman. It's a song that I would listen to early in the morning in my dark dorm room as a freshman at the University of Florida, wearing headphones so as not to wake up my sleeping roommate as I got ready for class. It moved me then, as I stepped out onto campus and watched the sun rise, but now it moves me in ways that would blow away 2004 Christen. The Christen of 2015 has a much deeper understanding of newness.

You took the hopeless
The life wasted, ruined and marred and made it new

You make all things new
You make all things new
You redeem and You transform
You renew and You restore

We had a cup of caterpillars sitting on the kitchen counter for about a week before they spun their cocoons. Ezekiel knew what was supposed to happen, but he would carefully and quietly study the caterpillars and ask, "Is God really going to turn those caterpillars into butterflies?" Those ones, the very same ones that are crawling around in their own excrement, doing nothing but eating and growing furrier by the day? Will they really transform into something totally different, wings and all, he seemed to be asking? I knew the answer but was still eager to watch the transformation. This 28-year-old was as amazed as the 5-year-old. 

We learned that once inside the cocoon, a caterpillar's tissues actually liquefy and are restructured to form the butterfly. The caterpillar parts not needed for the new creation are expelled as red drops from the butterfly's intestines. We watched and waited, cheering on the last of the five caterpillars as he finally made his way up the side of the small cup and hung in the J-shape where he could spin his cocoon (I don't remember if this was Guido or Luigi - one was named Guido and four were Luigi, so odds are it was a Luigi). When all 5 were finally hardened, we transferred the paper disk into the butterfly habitat and waited for the butterflies to be born. Upon returning from Ezekiel's Saturday morning soccer game, we discovered that the first one had emerged! We then witnessed our first ever expulsion of red liquefied caterpillar parts. Three more have followed and once the final one emerges, we'll release them on a (hopefully) warm day (hopefully) before they have a chance to make friends with each other and produce more caterpillars. How amazing that we serve a God who transforms us completely, who makes something new where there was once nothing that even remotely resembled it...

The round white disk with the cocoons is pinned on the left with one of the new butterflies resting beside it. Since Guido and the Luigis became new, their names did too: last I heard they were Zacchaeus, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and a poor nameless one.

Yes, and it's happening elsewhere in our home, too (minus the liquefied parts)!

My longstanding prayer of many many months before Kamelia joined our family was that the LORD would restore her to the state she would have been in had she been born into our family. I still pray this every day. I think I took a brief hiatus from this prayer during the very dark first months together. It was all we could do to pray for survival, but the new year has brought hope, and we are beginning to see just how many chains have already been broken in her young life. 

We are about one month into Kami's occupational therapy, and it has been a blessing and a help. Her skilled therapist has become a trusted adviser to me, and we're exceedingly grateful for her support. Jennie has become the first adult besides Mason and me to both see Kami on a consistent basis (twice a week) and deeply care for her well-being and progress. While therapy is helping, as is the growing distance from orphanage life, it is God's Word that is changing Kamelia. It is living and active, and more powerful and adequate than any other source for raising an adopted child, a biological child, any child. It was a significant turning point for me as a mom to stop depending on a source besides Him for raising this new child. Between the adoption books that say "forget every traditional method you used with your bio kids, they won't work" to the helpful social workers whose advice and opinions often contradicted one another, I became aware of the fact that God placed Kami in our care because He was planning on giving us and us alone the wisdom required to train her and facilitate her healing. This is not to say we spurn all advice and help; on the contrary, there is wisdom in a solid team of advisers, and we use them! But they are just that, advisers. One strange and challenging part of adoption for me has been learning that my responsibility in raising her is to the Father alone - not to her birth country, not to an agency, and not to any adoption experts, though we must submit periodic progress reports to Bulgaria in order to keep the international adoption process smooth and unencumbered for other families. This message from Maggie (our facilitator in Bulgaria, you may remember her from past posts) regarding our 6-month report brought us such joy and encouragement: 

Dear Christen,

It is always so exciting for me to hear from you! I am soooo happy to know how well Kami is doing.

You know, I have my own theory that since many of the developed countries have not had orphanages for quite some time, and definitely nothing close to an orphanage in Eastern Europe, the people there have kind of "forgotten" what that does to children. I know from my personal experience how frustrating it could be to try to convey the potential that you see in a child to others. After all, you and Kami might just prove some people wrong along the way. I see that happen a lot.

Kami has gone a long way and you walked that hard road with her. Thinking about what the 7 years in the orphanage have been like for her, I just could not be more amazed that now, several months later, she SPEAKS, and that is in ENGLISH, and that is in SENTENCES. 

Frankly speaking, her eyes tell me more that any report could because I can feel she is no longer the child I met while you were in Bulgaria, she is no longer the Kami that I knew in person. She has started turning into Kamelia Joy Martin, and that is going to be a completely different child. (emphasis mine)

It is a proven fact that a mother's heart knows best. You know the truth about her in your heart. 

Sending you lots of hugs,

Maggie

"Look, I am making everything new!" - Jesus (Revelation 21:5)

Raising these four children can feel overwhelming to us at times. It's usually not the homeschooling part that overwhelms me, because I truly enjoy being with them all day, teaching them, playing with them and watching them learn. It can get loud and hectic when a few require discipline at the same time, or when we have to get somewhere on time, but tonight reminded me that of all the times of the day, shower/bath/bedtime is the one that should really not be performed by one parent alone (it was wild). When Mason and I are both home, we can divide and conquer fairly easily. Being responsible for two children at this point seems like a breeze. This is completely relative because I remember what it felt like to add Eden to our family and go from one to two babies; we didn't know how we would find time to eat dinner again. Many of our friends are just starting out their families, transitioning to one or two small children, and they feel like it's insane. I sometimes feel like our situation is insane with four of them developmentally under the age of 6 (Ezekiel will be 6 in May), but then I think of moms who have 5, 6, 7 or 8 young children and realize that they would look back on "just" 4 as feeling like a piece of cake. (I wish I had more of these women in my life! I have virtual relationships with a few adoptive moms of this caliber and am encouraged by their mere existence!) The point is, we rely on God to get through these highly demanding years.

Sweet, bubbly Eden is beginning to read and too-complex-to-condense-into-two-words Ezekiel is well on his way. We're a few weeks from completing their kindergarten curriculum and will then fill our remaining time in Louisiana with studying topics of interest to their precious little minds. We have about four months left here! There are so many people that we'll miss, yet we feel ready and eager for the new adventures and ministries that await.

As for Isaiah, he is just a riot. As we easily predicted when he was in the PICU teetering dangerously close to intubation as a newborn, he is the child who can do practically no wrong. (To be clear, he is just as much a sinner as the rest of us, but he is also 100% the baby of the family. You babies out there may know what I'm talking about.) Like me, Ezekiel and Eden still think he is a baby. One way you can tell Isaiah is the baby of the family is that I have busted out cloth diapers again! Cleaning his diapers is truly fun. There is something about believing that this is my last baby that makes me enjoy these things that once felt burdensome. When Ezekiel was wearing cloth and I was pregnant with Eden, I couldn't handle diaper duty without getting sick. (Maybe it's partly that I wasn't using Fuzzibunz back then!) The baby of the family gets a good deal because mom is focused on him instead of growing the next tiny human. I have never had so much fun hanging out with a child sitting on the potty. He looks so fat and cute sitting there with his big, easygoing grin, and the great thing is I don't care if he potty trains now or 6 or 12 months from now. He still sleeps in a crib two feet away from me, so when his cheerful little face wakes me up in the morning I just pull him into bed with us and he becomes my human teddy bear. I am treasuring these last few months of him sleeping in our room because when we make the move to Florida, he will start rooming with a sibling and have a big boy bed. It's such fun every day to hear him expressing more thoughts as he learns to talk. He is an absolute joy to our family and keeps us all laughing.

We continue to anticipate God's direction with Mason's next career and are about to start preparing to rent out this beautiful house that He clearly led us to 2 years ago. I'm excited for the next family who gets to live here, and also glad that we won't be leaving it completely behind by selling it just yet - we have made many memories in these walls.

Around here, we are grateful for the illustration of new life that sits on our kitchen counter. I'll feel a little sad when we release the butterflies, just because they offered so much educational entertainment to the children, but will be glad to have the smell of rotting foliage out of my kitchen (I've never been one for keeping insects inside the home anyway! It's a wonder I caved and ordered the caterpillars!). 

There is so much life in this home! Jesus said He came that we may have life, and have it to the full. I pray that you, reader, will experience the abundant life that comes only through Him!

brokenness aside

Sunday was our first full day at home with Kamelia, and Mason was kind enough to let me attend our regular 11am worship service with Ezekiel and Eden while he stayed with Isaiah and Kami. While there I understood for once what hurting believers mean when they say that they attended worship services during a difficult season of their life not to sing the words, because they just couldn't, but to be encouraged by hearing others sing the words for them. I wasn't able to utter the words "whatever may pass and whatever lies before me, let me be singing when the evening comes," but I desperately wanted them to be true - and the wonderful thing about worship, at church or at home or anywhere, is that God knows our hearts. I was already tearing up from the song lineup, but then the band introduced a totally new song called "Brokenness Aside." I have no doubt that one of the reasons He led them to select this song was so that my weary heart would hear it and be encouraged by it at that moment. It was about how Jesus takes our brokenness aside and makes it beautiful, even when the only thing the broken person knows how to do is run away and lie. Thinking about how Kamelia's life up to this point has left her completely stripped of freedom and love, broken to the point of being terrorized by the freedom and love that are now surrounding her, was powerful. I left the service encouraged that God is setting that brokenness aside and already making it beautiful.

Will your grace run out
If I let you down
‘Cause all I know
Is how to run

‘Cause I am a sinner
If it's not one thing it's another
Caught up in words
Tangled in lies
You are the Savior
And you take brokenness aside
And make it beautiful
Beautiful

Will you call me child
When I tell you lies
Cause all I know
Is how to cry

I am a sinner
If it's not one thing it's another
Caught up in words
Tangled in lies
You are the Savior
And you take brokenness aside
And make it beautiful
Beautiful

Kamelia is not the only broken person in our family! We all are sinners and all need His grace to not run out. Fortunately, it never does. We are at the close of our third full day as a family here at home, and Mason and I have already made alot of mistakes and learned several important lessons. Thank the Lord for our agency's post-adoption department. Lifeline has literally become my lifeline at this point! I have a long way to go in properly approaching my parenting of this child. She won't be like our others. Just applying some of the concepts I discussed with Lynn (she's an angel from heaven, I'm pretty sure) changed the game tonight. I know there are no quick and easy fixes, but rather a daily, moment-by-moment choice to love Kami in the way that she needs to be loved. I hope to write more in detail about this another time, but we are going to bed pretty early these days since both Isaiah and Kami are up with the sun. Even Ezekiel and Eden are getting up before 8 these days! I miss the days when I rarely saw the world before 8am (we have been sleepers-in for a long time), and these are certainly much fuller and more exhausting days, but maybe one day when they are all a few years older I will sleep in again. One can dream!

I don't want to visually capture and share too much of Kami's brokenness, though I did share on Facebook that video of her calmly rocking. Instead, here are two special pictures from today that show a glimpse of a new beginning for her.

Mercy

Today is Wednesday in Bulgaria. One week from today we'll be packing to go home, so that feels good to say. This morning was hard - mornings are extra hard for me because the day is so new and looks so daunting.

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning, great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23

We learned several interesting things about this country today. It baffles me that when I look up at the sky, it's the same sky we see in the United States and that we are in fact on the same planet, because there is not much we seem to share in common besides the obvious.

Perfection is of high value here. We've been frequenting some wealthy areas of Sofia where both women and men are dressed to the nines for a simple shopping trip. Children, when you see them, look perfectly dressed and neatly groomed. "If you're going to do something, do it perfectly" is the message that comes across. Of course, we casually dressed Americans with our obviously imperfect child stick out like a sore thumb. The judgmental glares and comments (sometimes through open windows, during Kamelia's tantrums) we've received around town are very telling. If I could communicate back to them, I'd like to tell them that yes, this child is screaming and flailing violently because she's been put away like an animal for 7 years, right under your nose, in your own country. Yes, you could have adopted her, but at least three Bulgarians decided to pass on this child which is why she was made available to us. Yes, it's difficult to see and deal with a child having a fit, but her apparent misbehavior is the result of extreme neglect that could have been prevented by more one-on-one care for her when she was an orphan. None of this would do much good even if I spoke Bulgarian, because adoption is just not something people do around here. I have trouble accepting this criticism for sure, but I'm finding myself more on Kamelia's side and less nervous about what the perfection-obsessed observers will think.

During my downs, I look at her and think to myself, what have we gotten ourselves into? We can't do this! It's hard! She is so hurt and is literally a baby inside of a girl's body because she was never given the stimulation to develop further. Then the Lord reminds me that He is our healer and that He can restore lost years, and that He's set her in our family in order to effect that healing. He reminds me of the hope that I felt from the start regarding her potential and her hidden abilities. He reminds me that no matter what needs any of my children have, He'll equip me to mother them and Mason to father them.

Kamelia has only been with us for THREE DAYS. For some reason it's felt like an eternity, and I have a tendency to transfer that time frame to my expectations for her. Why isn't she doing better yet? Because it's been less than 72 hours since we picked her up, that's why. She was unceremoniously removed from the only place she's ever known. She was clearly not told that she wouldn't be returning. Some orphanages, and of course foster homes, do a better job of preparing the children for their new life. But even if Kamelia's orphanage had provided consistent and logical explanation of what was about to happen, she surely wouldn't have had the perspective to comprehend it. Here she is, away from "home" in a huge, noisy city full of strange people, her schedule is gone, her sleep is affected, her food is different and suddenly there are these two people handing her more of it than she has ever seen in her life. These two people seem to really like each other, and her too, because they take her everywhere they go. Suddenly she is not her own boss, wandering around all day mindlessly doing the same things over and over, including hurting herself. They are telling her that she can't do some things. Instead of leaving during her fits or giving in weakly to what she wants when it's bad for her, they speak strange sounding words to her and hold her still to keep her from hurting herself or them. Once she calms down, they treat her like it never happened, and they keep giving her more food and drink! They make her laugh, especially the big tall guy, and the woman keeps singing songs to her about this guy named Jesus. They hug her, they kiss her, they bathe her and change her pull-ups and stay by her side as she goes to sleep. They've been there the last 2 days she's woken up, too.

When I consider the absolute strangeness of all of this to Kamelia's mind and heart, I am filled with mercy and compassion for her. It's only when I'm selfishly concerned about how I look with her or how I'm going to swing these fits on the plane or at home that I freak out. I'm learning that obedience to God is messy sometimes. It's really messy, and it seems chaotic and like He must have made a mistake or maybe we misheard Him - but no, I marked this trail well enough to be able to retrace my steps. She is who He told us to come for.

The more time we spend with her the more conclusions we can draw about her past. Our assumption based on the last few days is that in the orphanage the children are given cold showers where they put their heads under a running faucet, not a shower head, because when we turn on warm water or get the shower head down, she cowers and panics. She barely drinks at all, and we know from the schedule we were given that she only had prescribed times of day for receiving water. She continually pulls all pillows and blankets off the bed to create a flat surface before falling asleep. Her orphanage behaviors are rocking back and forth, tapping on objects, playing with her fingers, grinding her teeth, and singing and talking to herself, all to self-soothe. Tell me, what person would NOT resort to these behaviors and act frightened and angry when their routine was suddenly changed after seven years of such poor treatment? Please pray for Kamelia to forget the former things and to see that God is doing a new thing, making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. Right now we are watching her mourn her desert and her wasteland.

Here are some requests you're welcome to join me in praying for!
- continued peace, protection and good behavior for Ezekiel, Eden and Isaiah as they do one more week with their grandparents, who also need protection and extra strength
- a seamless and smooth reunion when we return (we aren't sure how Kamelia will react and where/if she will sleep those two nights in Florida before returning to Louisiana)
- the ability for me to eat and sleep well; both are very hard when away from my children
- continued strength, endurance and patience for Mason as he is dealing with the brunt of the tantrums
- for Kamelia to sense a new beginning and to quickly make a history with us so that she is confident she can trust us on the trip home and beyond; for smooth, calm flights home next week
- for clear, unwavering vision for the future that sees beyond the current situation

And finally, good news to conclude: Kamelia's fits are lessening in duration, intensity and violence. She's accepting our offers of distraction and diversion more. She's said several words in English after clear instruction: yes, push, walk, drink, tick-tock; and of course mama and ta-tee (daddy) translate easily. In Bulgarian, she says many words and sings many songs, some of it baby babble and other of it actual words. We don't really know which is which when a translator is not around. :) She sits with us at meals and eats independently, and today we bought a stroller so she will not be so exhausted walking the city streets with us. Today she took a nap for the first time. This morning when she woke up (at 0550! Not in this family, Kamelia, we need to work on that!), she climbed up in bed with us and even laid down for a moment next to me. She followed that by sitting on the floor rocking back and forth, but it's still progress. We are so grateful for every bit of progress we see.

Pictures below:

That hair is going to be even more beautiful as it grows out!
View looking to the left from our hotel balcony
First ever nap with us

are you waiting?

Is there something you're waiting for? Something you think it is high time happened because you can hardly fathom any logical reason why God would keep holding it off? Do you sometimes start to panic because you wish you could take matters into your own hands but simply can't? If so, we have something in common, my friend! 

Our waits might look different. Here's what mine looks like: sometimes when I go to sleep I see a flash of our daughter eating watery cabbage soup and stale bread off a metal tray.

I want to feed her healthy, homemade food along with vitamin supplements and a bottomless cup of cool water to moisten her lovely little parched lips. Now. I see her falling asleep in a crib for which she is way too old, without even a pillow, and I long to tuck her into the elegant princess bed in her new room, complete with the purple pillow that has her name embroidered on it. I think of her spending long, mindless hours each day without meaningful interaction and desperately want to study her eyes, speaking love and life into her soul, inviting out the intelligent and inquisitive child within, just as I do daily with our three at home. Even though she may not yet know that this kind of life is possible, it hurts me to think these thoughts. It hurts more to remember that until all of the appropriate authorities set our in-country appointments and invite us to come, there is absolutely nothing we can do to hasten her exit from the institution. 

The good news is that with every passing day of no news, we're one day closer to the call that tells us our travel dates. On that day, we will know exactly how many more days stand between us and physically welcoming her into our family. How can each day feel as long as a year and as short as a minute, both at the same time? I think it has something to do with the three vivacious little personalities that keep us on our toes all day long here. Without them, this adoption - all of the waiting and wondering - would be so much more excruciating. I have a new and profound respect for moms and dads who choose (whom God calls) to start their family through adoption, who become parents for the first time in this way. What a wild ride to start off a parenting journey. 

We met one such couple in the Paris airport in February. Mason said to me before we exited the plane from our transatlantic flight, "I believe God is going to send us an encouragement after this." Sure enough, while sitting in the terminal waiting for our final flight to Sofia, a young woman sitting across from us asked "Excuse me, are you with Lifeline?" How thrilled we were to meet this amazing couple, married just a few years and working with the same agency, on their way to Bulgaria to meet their firstborn, a precious 3-year-old boy! We shared the same flight from Paris to Sofia, and walking into that deserted, rundown terminal with them made such a difference as we all set foot in our children's country of origin together, united in our faith in Jesus and His purposes for our families. Just yesterday, I found in my purse one of the crushed-up Lifesaver mints that they gave us as we parted. Through emailing with the mom and praying for one another since then, we've kept in touch. This precious family will be leaving to go pick up their son on July 16! I am overjoyed for them even as I wait to hear news of when our trip will happen. They have waited patiently with empty arms as they've navigated this rollercoaster-like journey of international adoption. I'm grateful that my arms have been full during this time of waiting, because the pain of waiting is surely magnified a thousand fold when there is not a little child (or two or three) in the home already toward which the expectant parents can channel their eager attention.

I've been honest about our desire to plan our trip now and to finally circle a date on the calendar, but beneath it all we have the deepest underlying peace about the whole thing. It's true that God will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are stayed on Him because they trust in Him (Isaiah 26:3).

Below is the July 4th entry from Streams in the Desert, my favorite devotional book. It's one example of how the LORD has been faithful to encourage us during the emotional ups and downs of the past 3 weeks since court.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the vision is yet for an appointed time...though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry. Habakkuk 2:3

In the charming little booklet, Expectation Corner, Adam Slowman was led into the Lord's treasure houses, and among many other wonders there revealed to him was the "Delayed Blessing Office," where God kept certain things, prayed for, until the wise time came to send them. It takes a long time for some pensioners to learn that delays are not denials. Ah, there are secrets of love and wisdom in the "Delayed Blessings Department," which are little dreamt of! Men would pluck their mercies green when the Lord would have them ripe. "Therefore will the Lord WAIT, that He may be gracious unto you" (Isa. 30:18). He is watching in the hard places and will not allow one trial too many; He will let the dross be consumed, and then He will come gloriously to your help. Do not grieve Him by doubting His love. Nay, lift up your head, and begin to praise Him even now for the deliverance which is on the way to you, and you will be abundantly rewarded for the delay which has tried your faith.

O Thou of little faith,
   God hath not failed thee yet!
When all looks dark and gloomy,
   Thou dost so soon forget - 

Forget that He has led thee,
   And gently cleared thy way;
On clouds has poured His sunshine,
   And turned the night to day.

And if He's helped thee hitherto,
   He will not fail thee now;
How it must wound His loving heart
   To see thy anxious brow!

Oh! doubt not any longer,
   To Him commit thy way,
Whom in the past thou trusted,
   And is "just the same today."

patience

I wonder if for the first time I might finally be getting the hang of patience, and not the kicking and screaming with gritted teeth kind that I've been familiar with in the past (which isn't really patience at all). Something interesting happened last week starting on Tuesday, which marked 1 week since our court date. We had expected to hear travel dates by that point, and when we were told that it was still too early, discouragement loomed and expectations required rearranging. 

During the rearranging, the Holy Spirit encouraged my heart that this wait is nothing in the light of eternity. 

Our days on earth are like grass;
    like wildflowers, we bloom and die.
16 The wind blows, and we are gone—
    as though we had never been here. 
              Psalm 103:15-16

Since our entire life here on earth is but the blink of an eye to God, I don't even know how to identify the very short time that stands between us and picking up Kamelia. It's hardly worth mentioning. At the same time, the LORD is working this wait to the good of everyone involved. If nothing else, it's a practical lesson in waiting patiently for Him. The timetable for Kami's adoption was intricately planned and set by her Creator from the foundation of the world. He knows which day will become known as "Kami Day" in this family, the day that we walk her out of her orphanage and into her new life.

This current lesson in patience reminds me of labor and birth (which is not surprising since that is one of my favorite subjects!). During Ezekiel's birth, I was unfamiliar with and unprepared for this new kind of pain and dealt with it by tensing up. Naturally, this made it feel more pronounced. During Eden's and Isaiah's births, I put into practice all of my natural birthing preparation and found that relief was truly found in surrendering to the pain and working with it. Most if not all of the pain had been a result of my tensing up. I've found this week to be not dissimilar! Once I let go of the fruitless anxiety over whether we will pick up our daughter by such-and-such date, I found that although this wait is still uncomfortable at times, it's not as painful. It's much more exciting, and in the moments that I find myself becoming restless or imagining that I can control any of this, the Holy Spirit reminds me that He who began a good work in this family will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:6).

We were also greatly encouraged by the prayers of our friends in our small group at church. A dear family even brought dinner over last Tuesday night and covered our home and family in prayer. What an encouragement to these weary souls! The last five months since our first trip have brought some of the wildest events Mason and I have ever experienced. I would like to share with you a thorough list of the bizarre challenges we've faced since that trip, but to do so would take far too long and require far too much rehashing in light of the bright and exciting future ahead of us. When I wrote a few months ago about how "adoption isn't charity - it's war," I had no idea what lay ahead, but God did. He has been so faithful to protect us and sustain us at the most difficult times, and I know that He will be right there with us when it's go time and we take off to finish what He began on the day we first saw that little girl's picture.

We're praying for travel dates SOON, but until they come down, we will be waiting patiently! 

"Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:18

I am an adopted daughter

On Tuesday, June 3 we received the call we'd been waiting for: Our court date is scheduled for June 17! Two weeks had never seemed so imminent and so distant at the same time (well, at least not in this way). Less than one week from now, Kami will legally be our daughter. We will legally be the parents of this precious 7-year-old girl on the other side of the world who God made and formed for His glory, whose life He planned from the foundation of the world.

Now that we have this momentous date marked on our calendar, everything feels different. We're reminded that the whirlwind trip to Bulgaria in February was in fact real. There is a legal transaction preparing to take place that will forever change the lives of everyone involved. In a courtroom in a post-communist country, in a language we don't understand, a representative will appear on Mason's and my behalf. He or she will stand and state that we are willing, able and qualified to assume lifelong parental responsibility for Kamelia. Next week, she will no longer be under the guardianship of the orphanage director. A transfer of guardianship will take place and she will be given a new name with a new life to follow. Though we feel we are her parents already, a legal transaction is necessary to recognize this relationship as legitimate.

I'm no lawyer, but there is one other legal transaction that I'm familiar with. It's the one that bought me over from the dominion of darkness and into marvelous light, the one where my debt was paid in full. It's the one where I stood helpless and guilty before a holy God, an orphan in spirit, locked up behind walls of sin that separated me from Him. But this Judge was compassionate in His justice. In order to make a way for people of every tribe, nation and language to walk free, He sent His Son to live a spotless life - without even the slightest stain of sin - and then offered Him to die a cruel death, taking the full penalty for our sin, bearing all His wrath, and tearing down the insurmountable barrier between us. Without the shedding of blood, there is no remission of sin, but while we were still sinners Christ died once for all so that those who live can live not for themselves, but for Him who died and was raised to life. This new life is available to all who believe. With this new life in Christ, where it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me, I stand before the Judge now forgiven because my sins have been cast as far as the east is from the west! I have a new name and am a completely new creation. My old life is gone and before me is a brand new life. Salvation is a transfer of ownership of a person's life from Satan to God. I have been bought with a price, and who the Son sets free is free indeed. Not only this, but now this holy God calls me His child. How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called the children of God! 

I recently read back in my prayer journal to read what God was doing in my heart during the months He was growing Kamelia in her birthmother's womb. I went journal hunting fully expecting to find something breathtaking, and what I found in my entry from April 11, 2007 was sufficient. Kami was a new resident of the orphanage on that day. She was just a couple of weeks old, a precious, beautiful, tiny newborn. Oh, how I wish we could have swooped in and carried her out of there in our arms that day! But we were still a month away from our wedding day and never could have guessed that our 4th child was already born. It is so amazing to look back and see how God has knit our lives together! I wrote these words to God on that April day, seven years ago, after studying Romans chapter 11:

"I am not one of Your chosen people by birth, as the Jews, but rather by adoption."
"I am an adopted daughter."
"You truly were and are the King of the Jews, and through adoption and Your opening of the gospel to Gentiles, you are also my King."

How incredible to me that at the very moment I penned those words, my oldest baby, who would enter our family through adoption, had already arrived. This realization hurts my heart because I am mentally running through all the times I know she cried and nobody held her, she was hungry and nobody fed her, she was alone and nobody came to her. When we go to get her in a few weeks, we will seriously be making up for lost time. We are bringing into our family a child who has been seriously wounded. But we serve a God who makes all things new, brings beauty from ashes, and can redeem even the most devastating circumstances. We have great hope for Kamelia's healing, but we also know that the road will be difficult. By bringing a severely wounded child into our family and embracing her, we embrace all of her suffering and will come face to face with it. Please keep her in prayer for peace, comfort, and hope as she waits for us; and please pray that all 5 of us (and many more, when you factor in extended family) who are waiting to welcome her into our home will be sensitive, patient, loving, and able to minister to her unique needs.

Last but not least, we certainly pray that we will pass court on Tuesday. I haven't heard of any cases where a family hasn't passed court, but still we will be eager to hear the news next week! We hope to receive travel dates quickly after the 17th, though in some cases it can be about 3 weeks before dates are passed down and airline tickets can be bought. 

Thank you for standing with us in prayer and excitement during this wild time in our family's life!

adoption isn't charity - it's war

A few days ago I started reading Russell Moore's Adopted for Life. I haven't gotten far into it, but this statement - "adoption isn't charity, it's war" - resonated with me as I prayed about whether or not I should share this story that I had recorded as more of a personal journal entry.

Already one month has passed since the trip. In some ways it's been an easy month, as I've parented through new eyes, and in other ways it's been difficult, particularly when trying to reconcile the current living conditions of the child we left overseas with our affluent lifestyle. Knowing she'll soon be under our roof brings us hope regarding her well-being, but our new understanding of the disparity between the U.S. and her post-communist country is the gnawing kind. There is so much going on in our minds and hearts as far as what God wants us to do with this new-to-us information that there isn't much more to say about it at the moment.

What I can say with confidence is that when followers of Jesus set out to adopt internationally, particularly from a very dark place, all hell breaks loose. I detest empty cliches, but this is one that I can back up with our experiences since committing to our new daughter. Ephesians 6:12 says " For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." If you are not yet a follower of Christ, this may sound ridiculous to you. There is one who wants it to seem ridiculous so that you don't realize what is going on when you are overcome by fear, sin, or any of your other weaknesses. He is called by many names in the Bible, but the most pertinent to me of late have been "adversary" and "father of lies." He is the enemy of God and of everyone who advances His Kingdom, and because he knows that he is fighting a losing war, no tactic is too desperate or low for him. 

You may remember back in June 2013 when we committed on paper to adopt our girl, I shared here that I was overcome in those critical decision days by a spirit of fear like none I had experienced (and I was quite the fearful child, so I have had some experience with this feeling.) Never in my adult life, since walking closely with the LORD, had I felt such a crushing, terrifying weight of fear on my soul. I could hear the audible whispers of the enemy in my mind: "She's not your problem. Leave her there. Just return the file, move on, and pretend this never happened. You're in over your head. You won't be able to handle her. She's too retarded, too disabled, too much of a burden for you. Leave her there." After much prayer, including asking for and receiving confirmation from God that He was indeed telling us to move forward bold and confident in adopting this child, we committed; and the lifting of the burden was instantaneous. As soon as the enemy knew that battle was lost, he retreated, moved on, and waited for another opportune moment. 

The opportune moment came 8 months later in Atlanta as we hustled to our gate to catch our overnight flight across the Atlantic. Just typing these words is making my heart race as I return to the moment of this attack. The entire day had gone smoothly, including everything from saying an anticlimactic goodbye to the children to enjoying our first flight. I remember the moment the doors to the "plane train" in Atlanta opened and we entered a car that was empty except for one man. We smiled at him, though he did not smile at us, and we rode until the stop for our terminal. He exited at the same stop. I remember he seemed a little lost and asked someone for directions while Mason confidently led us to our gate (he's so good at that). We took a quick restroom stop, dashed out just in time for the boarding call for Air France, and then got in line to board. As I looked around at our fellow passengers, I noticed the same man from the subway. This is very difficult to explain, but when I looked at him this time I was overcome with an immense weight of dread. He suddenly appeared to be in great turmoil, raking his fingers through his hair and fumbling with his passport, nervously patting his one black rolling suitcase and looking as if he was under a great deal of stress. I was sure at the moment, irrational as it sounds, that getting on this airplane was a death wish. I voiced my concern to Mason. (The enemy tends not to attack Mason in this way because he only fights battles he has a chance at winning, and Mason is not easily panicked or made anxious. Our adversary knows his opponents well.) Mason took one look at me, then one look at the man, and knew that something was going on - with me, not with the man. I feel certain that Mason saw something completely different when he looked at that passenger. At that time, however, I felt 100% sure that this man was going to blow up our airplane. Looking back, this was quite an unforgettable lesson in the importance of not trusting my feelings. I wanted nothing more than to alert the Air France attendant to a potential terrorist situation and bolt away from the gate. Thank the LORD, I did not do that, but as I handed my passport to the attendant I fully believed I was going to die on that flight. It didn't get any better as we made our way onto the plane. The man ended up directly behind me in line. He sat a handful of rows in front of us, in perfect view of my seat, so I could see his every move. He carefully searched for a good place to put his one black carry-on, but seemed unsatisfied with his options. All this time I was watching his every move like a hawk and narrating to Mason what he was doing. At one point he walked towards the front of the plane with his bag as if he was going to get off the plane. Mason actually asked me if I wanted to get off the plane! I think I told him multiple times to please pray, please pray for me, and he did, but he also had no idea the duress that I was experiencing. At that moment, in our final few minutes of cell phone service before crossing the Atlantic, I texted two key people: 1) my dad - without wanting to share the details, I asked him to pray for my peace, and 2) my dear dear friend Jacque (I don't think she will mind me sharing her name with you). I did text her the specific details, because that is just the kind of friendship I am blessed to have with her. She is an amazing pray-er who has taught me much about how to pray. 

What happened next changed the game. God is so amazing to send His Spirit, our Encourager, when we need Him most. She texted back with this: "the Holy Spirit had already told me to pray for you in this way, and now you are confirming it." Game changer. The moment I was reminded that God, Father to the fatherless, Creator of us all, was already working on my behalf to encourage me through this panic attack and get me across the ocean to our little girl, His little girl, I knew victory was mine in Christ. That was one of the most important text messages of my entire life. (Another one would have been about 3 days prior when Mason texted me that he got approval at work for us to go on this trip!) Mason prayed with me more and we took off. I still felt nervous about the man, and I still saw him doing suspicious things that made me tense, but I knew my God was fighting for me and that He had brought me onto this plane. One by one, the lies started to fall off of the table, lies that sounded suspiciously like the ones I had heard over the summer, except more desperate and far-fetched sounding: "You are going to die on this flight. You will leave all three of your children at home as orphans. You will not live to adopt Kamelia." These gave way to the promises of God, one of which was actually printed on Mason's sweatshirt - the words of Jesus: "I will not leave you as orphans, I will come to you," and  "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion." Recounting it now brings to mind Exodus 14:13-14, when Moses said to the Israelites leaving Egypt these words that the LORD gave him: “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today...The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” 

Really, God was fighting for Kami that day. This intense, paralyzing, terrifying panic attack was the enemy's last-ditch effort to keep this mother from getting to her child. He had tried once months ago and failed, and he wasn't going to give up without trying again. You see, the adversary did not want us to set foot in that orphanage in that economically and spiritually depressed town or to cover it in prayer. He did not want us to speak the Name of Jesus in the halls, and he most certainly did not want Kami to hear it and be released from the bondage that a life of neglect has imposed on her. He fought us tooth and nail with good reason... but if God is for us, who can be against us?

I carefully submitted this to God before choosing to share. I chose to publish it because I have desired from the start that this page would be a place for truth and encouragement. There is no room for pride or trying to maintain a false image. I want my friends who are considering adoption, or who maybe are at a decision point right now, to enter into the battle prepared. It's really not charity. It really is war.