Ruby

It's hard to believe that I am writing ANOTHER post about ANOTHER adoption that didn't happen.  ANOTHER sweet baby that we fell in love with, dreamed of, planned for, and gave a name.  ANOTHER round of grief...sadness, anger, and many tears.  And ANOTHER delay in our journey of trust as we wait for God to give us the children who are the desire of our hearts.

We found out about Ruby about three weeks after Millie's adoption was disrupted.  We were thrilled to be chosen so quickly and for another girl!  As excited as we were, I would be lying if I said that I was not anxious throughout the next two months.  But, we don't want to miss out on the excitement.  I was anxious, but honestly thought it would not be possible for us to have this happen again.  Everything was going smoothly.  Ruby's birthmom was very sweet and we texted back and forth quite a bit.  A couple of times we lost contact with her, but tried not to be too anxious about that because that is not completely uncommon.  She kept coming back.

We named the baby Ruby Dalayna.  Dalayna was the name chosen by the birthmom and we chose Ruby, after my great-grandmother, Ruby Reed Williams.  Both my mom and my grandfather teared up when we told them the name we had chosen.  I felt confident that this one would stick...confident enough to give her a treasured family name.  My confidence was more based in statistics than in the Lord...how could we possibly have three adoptions disrupted in nine months??  Looking back, I ignored some red flags...or God protected me from seeing them.

The process of how the adoption plan fell apart is somewhat of a mystery to me.  Deaconess has always been good at telling us exactly what we need to know.  There are many details that I do not know (and that is okay), but I do know that Ruby's birthmom decided to keep her.  To be frank, there were things that happened that broke my heart.  When we first met, I opened up and told her our story...our infertility, disappointments, and losses.  I cried.  I genuinely believe her intentions were good and I want to believe that they stayed good until the end.  But I really don't know.  I have struggled with some bitterness towards her.  I completely understand her decision to keep the baby, I just wish she knew how broken we are.  That sounds so selfish when I read it back, but it's the truth.

Ruby was born on January 7th, a month before Jordan's second birthday.  We did not know about her birth until the next day.  But, as far as we knew, we were just to wait for the call to come get her.  Nothing happened on the next day, but on January 9th, we finally heard.  The adoption specialist was headed to the hospital to talk to birthmom.  A couple of hours later, she called back and told me that she was leaving the hospital and I knew that something was wrong.  An hour after that, they called to tell me that it was over.  I had already been crying for an hour.  I knew.  I looked back on the past couple of months and saw all of the "red flags".  And I felt dumb. 

Why did I hope again?  I put off pulling out clothes and getting ready, but in the week after Christmas, I decided to decorate her room and wash her clothes.  I pulled out the pretty pink dresses and laughed to myself about how Blake would be so nervous about dressing a girl.  I re-packed the diaper back with sweet little clothes for the hospital.  I made my list and lined up baby-sitters.  I'm getting pretty good at this part of the process!  I hoped.  And I got excited.  And attached.

When Millie's adoption fell through, I lost it.  I was taken completely off guard.  I was a mess.  I was not that way this time.  I was more prepared, but I still grieved and cried.  It's funny because I was surprised and yet not surprised at the same time.  I don't even really know how to explain it.  I think my fear tried to hold me back, but I knew the right thing to do would be to prepare and love.  I was afraid of getting hurt again, but I know I would have regretted not doing those things to get attached.  Here's the thing: if Ruby was home with us right now, I would have been thankful that I had prepared.  I would have been thankful that I loved her before I met her. 

And this is why I am terrified.  I am terrified because I know we have to keep going.  We have to keep trying.  We want a house full of children.  Jordan would love a sibling.  This sounds incredibly selfish...but this is our only way to have children.  Adoption is a noble thing...and incredibly painful.  It is joyful and terrifying.  God brings a family to a baby and a baby to a family.  It's a miracle and I am so thankful for it.  But part of the grief of this season has been of my infertility.  I feel that pain again...it is the loss of control.  There is nothing I can do but wait on the Lord. 

In my humanity, I want to fast forward through the pain of today and the fear of future heart-break.  I don't have that choice.  Instead, I have to choose every day that I will give that pain and fear over to the Lord.  He knows what will happen.  He knows our hearts.  I have to "trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding."  It is a beautiful thing to turn those things over to Him.  He is good.  He is good.  He is good.  Nothing is outside of His plan.  My understanding is very limited.  I DO NOT UNDERSTAND.  But that is not what is important.  I have to give all of my heart to Him.  It is the only way we will be able to glorify Him through our grief and through our fear as we wait for the next call and start risking our hearts again.

So, we add Ruby to our list of babies who are out there somewhere.  They are our babies, if only in our hearts.  We miss them and we love them and it is so hard to know that they will never know who we are.  Jake, Millie, and Ruby.  Sweet babies.  I pray for you all of the time.  I miss you.  God, please protect these babies.  Watch over them.  Keep them safe.  And please show Yourself to them.  Bring someone into their lives who tell them about Your Son who died for them. 


P.S. The body of Christ has come through big-time for us.  We have been loved so lavishly by their prayers, gifts, dinners, tears, and words of comfort.  God has been good to us.

Missing the Mountains for the Messes

About once a week, I spill coffee grounds.  I get so mad at myself!  Yet, I refuse to buy the sturdy brand of filters.  I buy the paper thin ones that could rip at any second.  I drag myself over to the coffee maker every morning and brew myself a pot.  When the filter breaks and coffee grounds get all over the floor, you would think that I just broke my arm.  It gets me so frustrated...which of course sets the tone for the whole day.  (This little ditty just makes me cheap and lazy!)

As the new year starts, I have been reflecting on what I want 2014 to look like.  What are some things that I can focus on?  One consistent lesson that has been coming to mind is contentment.  We have had some set-backs and sadness in 2013, but who hasn't?  We are beyond blessed.  However, I lose my joy and contentment in the every day, mundane grind. I lose it when I'm expecting Blake to be home at a certain time and he calls to tell me that he's going to be late (the audacity of him wanting to get his hair cut!!).  It's the early mornings when I really want to sleep a little longer, but my little dude wants to be up before the sun.  It's having to sweep up coffee grounds again, or having to run and buy diapers because I didn't plan ahead and we ran out.  All of those little things steal my joy.

A friend shared with our Sunday School class some lessons she had learned out of Psalm 106.  It is one of the historical Psalms that talks about God's faithfulness to His people.  It is a look back at the history of their sin and failure to acknowledge Him.  Then after they suffer the consequences, they return to Him and are restored.  And then before you know it, they have lost focus again, and are back to doing the old things that got them in trouble in the first place.   It is a picture of our own hearts and thankfully, it is also a picture of God's loving kindness.

I am such a flake.  My heart wanders, and then I am gently guided back to God through His Word.  I hear a sermon or read a Scripture that reminds me of how greatly I am blessed.  My heart comes back to Him and then I spill my coffee grounds.  And I'm back to grumbling and complaining.  So, so petty. 

When we lived in Africa, we had the opportunity to travel to many beautiful places.  My favorite, by far, was Innsbruck, Austria.  The town reminded me a lot of Norman in it's size and in the fact that there was a university in the town.  But what set Innsbruck apart was that it was completely surrounded by mountains.  It is a beautiful little town in the middle of the Tyrolean Alps. 

Everywhere we went in this town, we were looking at the mountains.  We were so silly...we could not get enough of them!  If we ate a restaurant, we tried to eat at a table with a clear view of the mountains.  We would sit on a bench for an hour and just look at them.  Every evening, we sat by the river and watched the sun go down behind the mountains.  Even after it was dark, we were in awe of the barely visible shape of the mountains.  They were beautiful and we were enchanted.

I started to think about the people who lived there.  Did they not realize how beautiful their scenery was?  A bus would go by full of people who were looking at newspapers or at phones and not gazing at the mountains.  They would scurry about to their jobs and to their schools without looking up once.  It made me sad and I thought, "How long would it take for me to get used the the mountains and quit noticing them?"  It saddens my heart, but I think it would be quicker than I wish it would.

You see, it is the same in my life.  I have amazing blessings from God.  I have a husband who loves me and works hard to provide for our family.  I have a sweet little boy who makes me laugh and gives the greatest hugs.  The list goes on...my church, my family, my friends, my home, my neighborhood...all are blessings from Almighty God and yet I scurry around, getting caught up in the messes.  I never look up in awe and rejoice at God's majesty and beauty.  I get so caught up in those coffee grounds on the floor, that I forget to savor the God who gives me the ability to taste the coffee beans that he created.

God, help me to remember to look up.  Help me not to get caught up in the messiness of life so that I miss the majesty of who You are and what You have done for me.