Adoption

“He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.” Psalm‬ ‭18:19‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Our youngest daughter, Hope spent the first two years of her life in an orphanage, confined to only two rooms. From a lot of what we can see, we believe she spent most of those first two years confined to a crib with very little human interaction and physical touch. Her very basic needs were seen to but not much more than this. In every sense, she was only surviving not thriving, not growing, not experiencing the love, comfort and security that a family can give. Even the best of institutions can not fully provide these crucial elements that each child needs to truly thrive. My heart breaks to think of how alone she was.

In May of last year when we first met Hope, she gave us very little eye contact, she showed very little emotion. She was closed off to the world around her, a shell of a little girl—afraid of her own shadow.

I remember our first afternoon with her. I carried her outside where we were to spend time bonding with her. She began to softly coo with delight in feeling the warm sun and the gentle breeze on her face. From what we know this was her very first time outside. Her gentle cooing continued as she looked down at the rows of beautiful multi-colored roses lining the path to the playground. Her face changed from a blank expression, she became more alert and curious.

I reflect on our first playful interaction with Hope that day. I held Hope on my lap and Robert faced her, touching her gently with a textured purple ball, making funny noises and facial expressions. She began to laugh and not just slightly but from somewhere deep within, a true belly laugh. I began to cry because I was so relieved to see her smile and to hear her laugh. I did not realize until that moment how afraid I was, how I was almost holding my breath. What if this place had already stollen her joy, her light, her life?

Today, Hope is a different girl than the shadow of the little one we first met just over a year ago. She is always full of joy, laughter, chatter and movement. She loves exploring outdoors, delightfully discovering new flowers and plants. She enjoys interacting and is learning to relate more fully with herself, her environment and her family. She is curious and open to the world around her which is expanding more and more. She is learning to trust that she is safe. That she resides in a spacious place right here with us—where she is free to grow, to thrive, to find delight and to be delighted in.

Surrounded by love, she is blooming a little broader, smiling a little brighter, laughing a little louder, each new day.

Lord Jesus,
I breathe in, your love surrounds me.
I breathe out, your love knows no limits.

Your love is larger than life, a spacious place for me to grow, to bloom, to thrive. To think that you delight in me just as I am. Under your gaze—I come alive.

Thank you for being my safe and spacious place in a world that threatens to bind and break me. Amen.

In the last several months, I have felt the burden of too much, way more than I can bear alone. I have needed to find my very breath in Christ alone.

I share this podcast and this one with you. Both have helped me to gain new tools and a fresh perspective. The breath prayer is one tool that I am using when I feel anxious and when sleep does not come easy.

I hope and pray that you too will find a spacious place, a breath of fresh air, when this weary world weighs heavy. 

“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”

Psalm‬ ‭27:13-14‬ ‭

Before our last winter of waiting, I planted fifty daffodil bulbs. I kneeled on my hands and knees, digging holes deep, my fingers sinking into the cool soil, a therapeutic balm of sorts. As I broke earth, I prayed, hoping that this would be our last waiting winter. Little did I know that the approaching season would be my darkest one yet. Darkness so heavy, pressing in on every side. Finally, when the spring blossoms were nearly fading and the warmer days were upon us, God made a way. After such a long wait, Hope was coming home!

Daffodil shoots are now beginning to sprout from the still cold and broken earth. Their yellow smiling faces proclaiming and reminding me that a new day has come, new life and hope blooming bright in this place.

Our long winter of waiting has come to an end yet waiting never seems to really end, not this side of Heaven. The tension between the here and now and the not yet glory of our promised eternity, this is our current reality. In this tension, I find myself often restless, weary and worn, waiting in big and small ways. There is a constant undercurrent, a yearning for things unseen.

In mothering a daughter from a hard place, I am learning that it is a slow process of healing and forming healthy attachments. Hope is still unsure of what a mother is, uncertain what a family looks like. She is building her trust gradually, one step forward, two steps back.

At times, she is receptive to my affection and at other times she pushes me away. I’ve been surprised at how emotionally trying this process has been. How raw and vulnerable I feel. I do my best to hold on to the sweet cuddly moments, trying not to let the times when she pushes away effect me too deeply. She has come so far yet fear constantly creeps in and grips me. I wonder, will she ever fully trust, allowing herself to love and be loved.

Just in the last week, Hope has begun to call me her own version of Mama. Every now and then, I’ll pick her up, she’ll cuddle in, gently patting my back or touching my face and she’ll say, “A-Ma, A-Ma”. I have waited so long to hear her say this, a small yet mighty name, packed with so much meaning. In this simple act, I know that she is beginning to understand my love for her and the place I hold in her world. These sacred moments cause me to pause, my heart soaking it in yet sinking a bit, thinking to myself, “Oh, daughter of mine, how long you’ve waited for me.”

We each wait for Spring in one way or another. We watch for signs of new life and  brighter tomorrow’s. We hope in things in the not yet future. We pray for healing, a God-sized miracle.This is the tension we must embrace. Our hope not resting in only what we can see but in that which is unseen.

One thing I do know for certain, I am not alone in my waiting. There is One who sits with me in the tension, holding me in the balance, gripping me tight against the undercurrent. He goes before me, preparing the way. Bringing forth new life and beauty from the wounded deep and buried dark places in my heart. The difficult and impossible relationships in need of mending.  The desires and the aspirations not yet realized by those whom I love most. He sees and knows the deepest stirrings of my heart.

Jesus is at work in the waiting. The seasons are turning, buds of hope unfurling for the waiting, watchful eye. Spring is on it’s way!

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

2 Corinthians‬ ‭4:16-18‬ ‭

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.”
-Emily Dickinson

Late Fall of 2015, I began a blog series called, I Will Sing. I was weary and tired, restless in the waiting to be match with our daughter. At that point, we had already waited a year since being registered with Bulgaria and two years since beginning our paperwork process. Little did we know, we were only half way through our wait.

Yet even then, God was moving, weaving together our lives with our daughter Hope’s. In fine, intricate ways, He was creating unbreakable bonds of love within the very fibers of hearts. God is a God who delights in the details of our lives. I look back on our journey and I can see clearly how he so tenderly and personally loves each of us in the details.

I began the I Will Sing series because I need to be reminded that God is faithful and He saw me in my waiting. That I was not forgotten in such a dry and thirsty land. That He delighted over me, surrounding me in song. I also needed the reminder that He saw and sang over our daughter in her waiting.

Little did I know that when I began this series, God was at work on the other side of this great big world. Hope’s life had begun, tucked deep in her first mother’s womb, her tiny heart beginning to beat strong. God saw her and he delighted in the details as He fearfully and wonderfully made her. His song always surrounding her.

0n April 13, 2017, I wrote another post entitled, Finding Her Song. I was in a season of healing from my own past wounds, beginning to find my own heart song. I also felt God gently reassuring me that He was still surrounding our daughter in song. Songs of hope, healing and new life. Little did I know, a year later, almost to the day, I would first lay eyes on one brown eyed beauty, handpicked by God. Propelling our family into a new chapter, preparing to make this precious one our own. Journeying across continents and an ocean, two times over, to bring our daughter home.

I’ve shared in recent posts how much Hope loves music. It has become a soothing balm that calms her when she is upset and overwhelmed. It has also become a catalyst for her and I to connect and bond as mother and daughter. When I sing to her she looks me in the eyes, smiles, relaxing into my arms. I believe it is because song is the language of love God has used since the very beginning of her life.

God continues to delight in the details and just a couple weeks ago, He fulfilled yet another desire that I’ve had for a few years. This desire has been for our oldest daughter although I’m pretty certain it is also for our youngest. We have graciously been gifted a beautiful, old, dignified piano that now graces our front room. Filling our home with mostly delightful yet sometimes loud, pitter pattering of piano keys, music-making, song.

In this season of new beginnings and added challenges, God is reminding me that He still see’s me. That He is my strength and my song, even when I feel I am falling short and will never measure up. He continues to provide in the big and small details of each day. Delighting in, singing over, surrounding us with His love song.

Can you hear Him singing over you?

Listen closely, He is singing your song.

A song of hope,

of love,

of belonging,

surrounding you.

Perching in your soul, singing a unique tune that never stops at all.

“You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭32:7‬ ‭NIV‬

“The LORD your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.””
‭‭Zephaniah‬ ‭3:17‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

“By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me— a prayer to the God of my life.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭42:8‬ ‭NIV‬‬

I Will Sing: You Say

Part of the I Will Sing series.

I wanted to share one of mine and Hope’s new favorites. We play it on repeat, singing and dancing along. May it speak to your heart today as it has ours.

As I begin this post we are on the first leg of our journey home from Sofia, Bulgaria to Munich, Germany. Hope is in the middle seat between Robert and I. She has her child size head phones on, listening to worship music. She loves music, loves being sung to. It’s one of the best ways to get her to calm down and relax. She will wiggle her feet and sway her shoulders, sometimes dancing along and waving her arms. I believe that God has been singing over her from the beginning, surrounding her with His love. With song she is at peace. I am so grateful for this.

As we took off and flew away from Bulgaria my heart had a mix of emotions. Mostly, I am relieved and ready to be home again. To be reunited with our other children, to begin the journey as a family of seven now. Yet there is a part of me that grieves. I grieve for Hope and all she is leaving behind. I grieve for all that was lost and all that will never be. For Hope’s birth mother and father. For her biological family. For the beautiful culture and country that she will not have the opportunity to fully know and be a part of. Yes, we will do our best but it will not be the same.

My heart is also so grateful. Grateful for our time in Bulgaria. For our in-county agency and how well they have cared for and tireless served us and so many children and adoptive families. We will always hold a place for them in our hearts as they have played a vital role in uniting us with Hope. They are the hands and feet of God, doing His work to care for the orphan.

I will be ever grateful to Hope’s birth mother. There is a tender place for her in my heart. I can only imagine the pain she felt and the heartache she must carry and always will. I will strive to express to Hope over the years, how courageous I believe her birth mother was for choosing life and how much she must have loved her and wanted more for her.

My heart is full, brimming over, for all who have walked this journey with us. For your countless prayers and words of encouragement. For the many who have supported us in our long wait and for all who so generously donated financially.

We look forward to each of you personally meeting Hope at some point and for the journey ahead. A new chapter is beginning and we are so grateful for the support of so many friends and family members. You are our village and we need you now more than ever.

More than anything, we thank God. To Him be ALL the glory. He has made a way and He has provided immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine. Our faith has grown immensely during this journey, experiencing in miraculous ways the work of His hand.

As I concluded this post, we have been home now for a week. I am grateful for the ways our four older children have opened their hearts and so generously poured out love on their baby sister. They have such pure and sweet intentions yet at times this love is almost too big and wide for Hope to fully take in. (We’ve had lots of talks on personal space and boundaries)

We are hunkering down at home and learning to live and love with our newest addition. Hope has had lots of laughs and smiles yet some pretty significant meltdowns too. With the ten hour time change, lots of new stimulation and all the changes, she is having to adjust on many levels.

Thankfully, she sleeps well and is beginning to eat a ton more, her expanding belly is proof. We are taking joy in seeing a little more of her personality each day which is a little feisty but also so sweet and joyful. Over time, we pray that she will begin to settle in and grow more and more comfortable and at peace with all the palpable love and energy that surrounds and covers her. That Hope will begin to understand deep down that she is safe, she is loved beyond measure and she is home.

We thank you all for your continued prayers and support. We can sense His hand of grace upon our family, surrounding and caring for us in very tangible ways. We are ever grateful for you, our village.

“I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever.”
-Robert Browning

After God created the world, He saw that it was good. Then He created man in His own image yet God said that it was not good for man to be alone (Genesis 1 and 2). We were made in the image of God and God is love. We were made for love. To be loved and to love. To be delighted and to be delighted in. We were made for each other. I believe that is why God’s heart is for the orphan and the widow. We all need love, we all need a life witness.

God is at work, filling in the missing gaps, beginning to heal Hope’s little heart. So many prayers are being answered. Hope is such a little love bug. So ready for the love of a mama and daddy. We have been amazed at how receptive she has been in receiving our love for her. How at peace and trusting she has been in allowing us to care for her needs. This morning she woke up around 6:30 and I put her in bed between Robert and I. She was content and happy, kicking her legs and babbling away. This is what Hope was made for, exactly where she belongs. Smack dab in the middle of love.

This morning we crossed the Bulgarian countryside, a four hour car ride one way from the capital city of Sofia to Burgas, Hope’s birth city. The hillsides all dressed in bright yellow, fitting for such a joyous occasion. Fields of sunflowers, blooming large, blanketed the landscape, their brilliant faces smiling up towards the sun.

We arrived at Hope’s orphanage just after her lunch meal. Her caregivers dressed her in the ladybug outfit her big sister chose for her, complete with matching ladybug booties. When she was brought to us, a caregiver handed her to me and said to Hope, “Mama” and Hope began to make happy cooing noises. After a quick exchange and good byes we walked out of the orphanage into the sunshine. Hope again made happy cooing sounds yet this time much louder and varied. It seemed as if she knew that this was a very joyous occasion, a time to celebrate!

We are now two hours into our return trip to Sofia. Hope has been sleeping peacefully for about an hour now. She fell asleep holding my hand. I look at her sweet baby face and I look out my window to see sunflowers far into the distance, like an ocean of pure light. My heart fills with gratitude. This day has finally arrived, our daughter is officially ours and she is coming home!

Oh, Happy Day!

“This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭118:24‬ ‭NLT