Here we go again...

I'm consistently blown away by God's intentionally personalized gifts of mercy. It's easier for me to grasp the bigger picture - the gift of the cross, waking up each day healthy and alive, the love and presence of my family. What I fail sometimes to look for are the creative out-of-the-box ways God chooses to remind me I am His and He is ever relentlessly pursuing me.

When we first started along this adoption road, we felt led to search for an African American sibling group, either a boy and a girl or two boys. Every once in a while, Ryan would look at me as we perused profiles and say, "You know. Every time I've ever thought of adopting, I've always thought of us adopting a white baby girl." I would kind of roll my eyes and remind him of my our plans and the direction we were heading, not to mention the small likelihood of us ever getting a caucasian female newborn without first going through an adoption agency.

It's not that I didn't want a caucasian baby girl - I'm happy with whatever God gives us. I've just always had this idea that we would be bringing our child home from either a third world country, or older siblings from a minority group in the states that are harder to place. 

Time and time again God has shown me that it doesn't matter what I want or think will happen - He's going to do what He wants. Apparently He doesn't need my help in the process. Slowly the plan has changed and evolved...from focus on International adoption, to adoption from foster care. From Interstate adoption to focusing on kids within our state's boundaries. From adoption from foster care to emergency placement and respite. From only sibling groups to individuals. From only boys around the age of 6 to any gender and any age under 7. 

I'm learning expectations are saboteurs of faith, but living arms wide open, expectant and ready allows God to write you into stories you couldn't possibly have dreamt up yourself.

Five days after my last post and two weeks after we told our caseworker we were open to pretty much anything, including infants, I got a call on a Sunday afternoon from a CPS worker. She mentioned she had talked to our caseworker who recommended our family as a perfect placement for the child she was advocating for. And the placement? 

A four week old caucasian baby girl. 

My heart nearly stopped.

I took a deep breath and said, "Yes, I would like to hear more." 

There wasn't much to tell. Baby girl was four weeks old and in a Spokane hospital scheduled to be discharged the next morning. Baby's mother was nineteen and living in Missoula with no known history of substance abuse, and could I please make this decision within the hour? 

I said I would need to talk to my husband but I could be fairly certain I knew what he would say. I immediately called Ryan and told him the news. 

*Silence*

Then: "You know what I'm going to say." "Yep." I replied. "Just needed to make sure." And with those words, our lives were flipped upside down for the second time.

Most people get ten months or more to get used to the idea of a newborn. I had less than twenty-four hours. By five the next evening I was holding the teeniest, scrunch-faced, tiny little girl I'd ever seen in person. She weighed a hair under seven pounds (two pounds less than my lightest baby at birth), had a pinched little face and eyes perpetually crossed and locked into an expression of shock...Like she still couldn't quite believe the road she'd already been on. She had toddler bite marks on both arms, a huge nasty scab on her nose and small puncture wounds on her scalp. She had been in Spokane for blunt force trauma and a small brain bleed. Other than her wounds, I knew practically nothing about this child, except for her name - and even that we didn't know how to pronounce correctly for almost a week.

The first few days were overwhelming, and as I recall them now, a bit fuzzy. It's hard when you can't decipher cries and your body isn't sending cues when it's time to feed the little one. She wasn't very hungry, eating only one to two ounces at a time. The first night she was up every two hours for feedings and would only fall asleep for naps the first couple days if I walked her in the Ergo. But moment by moment, hour by hour, feeding by feeding we started to adjust. 

LeyAna Grace (pronounced "Lay-Ahna") has now been with us for a month. She eats four or five ounces every three to four hours, has gained over two pounds and last night slept for a solid eight hours. (Proof that miracles do, indeed, still occur.) She will sleep just about anywhere, through just about anything - even the unwanted slobbery affections of a four month old golden. She is oh-so-close to smiling, her eyes clear and focusing correctly. Her wounds have healed and only a small w-shaped scar is left on her nose to remind us of her trauma. 

Even though tired, I've moved out of the walking-dead zone and come back to land of the living. Our schedule has settled into place and the kids are so great, jumping at chances to feed, hold or fetch. 

Twice a week I drop LeyAna off for a two-hour visit with her mother and a CPS worker returns her home. Each time Georgia asks "where her baby go?" and each time I say she will be home soon. Last week the judge ordered LeyAna to remain in foster care for at least six months while her mother works on a treatment plan. There is a lot of relief knowing that even though it may not be forever, we do have some time.

So, how are we doing? 

We are - all of us - emphatically, blissfully and completely in love. My love for Ryan has grown a thousand fold as I watch him pour himself into this little life. He is teaching me the meaning of selfless compassion and love. He tearfully nicknamed her "Heartbreaker" - because if she leaves she will be taking the little shreds of our hearts with her. This experience is as peaceful, sweet and healing as our last was anxious, heavy and traumatic. 

God is so good. He knew she needed us and we needed her. Loved ones have warned me against loving her too deeply or letting my mind go where our hearts desperately want to. But that's not how I was made and honestly I have never seen anywhere in the bible where it says to love partially or hold back. LeyAna has one hundred percent of my love and God has one hundred percent of my trust - either to bless us permanently with her snuggles or to heal our wounded hearts when we give her back. I trust Him with all of it. Our present. Her future. 

Resting on the waves of His sovereignty brings so much more peace than fighting for the future I can't change or do anything about. There is peace in the unknown. There is new life from brokenness and death. This is my prayer for our hearts and LeyAna's life...That the scarred places soften and yield to His new life and all the possibilities it contains.

All is grace (even her middle name),

Carie 

Rings of Fire

Photos provided by Bea Hufman Photography

I don't know where you are as you read this, but things have been downright apocalyptic here in the NorthWest with well over 100 wildfires burning in Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana. Some locals jokingly refer to our four seasons as hunting, skiing, fishing and fire...but even our usual "grin-and-bear-it" sense of humor is starting to run dry as we have been socked in with increasingly hazardous smokey skies for days on end.

One or two days, even a week of smoke is pretty usual this time of year, and generally bearable, but when it starts to spread over multiple weeks and the brilliant blue dog-days of summer become a distant dream, you can be sure that cabin fever, irritation, general impatience and malaise are sure to follow.

I've been thinking how much the weather has resembled my emotional state the last several weeks - and whether my soul is mimicking the smoke or it is just a coincidence of timing - I find it a little ironic...

If you read my last post you know that we've been battling little fires of our own on all fronts...finances, relationships, uncertainty of the future, health, school - you name it, we've had a bit of it. Nothing major. Nothing catastrophic. But all those little fires sure produce a lot of spiritual smoke and it can be hard to see the big picture through the haze. 

In my struggle to give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thessalonians 4:18), I decided I would try to find the good in the wildfires raging across the land and what I gleaned has some amazing spiritual applications as well...So stick with me for a minute, it will all make sense in the end.


Wildfires 101

Wildfires are "powerful change agents that shape ecosystems. The specific pattern of fire - including how frequently it burns, how hot it burns, and during which season—helps dictate the types of plants and animals found in a given area." (www.nature.org) They have four major benefits:

1. Encouragement of new plant growth
Wildfires are a necessary contributor to habitat vitality and renewal. Many plant species in naturally fire-affected environments require fire to germinate, establish or reproduce. (wikipedia.org)

2. Creation of more space
Periodic fires can open up sections of the forest canopy, creating an opening for smaller plants that need lots of sunlight to grow; this stimulates diversity in the forest ecosystem.
(Discovery Education)

3. Forest management
By burning forest litter, fires release nutrients present in forest litter that would otherwise decompose very slowly and not be as readily available for the benefit of plants and wildlife. They also reduce the number of pathogens and insects that could cause longterm harm to the ecosystem.
(Discovery Education)

4. Ecological revitalization
Fire suppression can lead to the build-up of flammable debris and the creation of less frequent but much larger more destructive wildfires.
(wikipedia.org)

-----------------------------------

There you have it.

If you weren't bored to tears with the unexpected natural science lecture, maybe you were able to catch as I did how amazingly these natural phenomenon mirror seasons of fire in our own lives. I noticed four major correlations to our spiritual seasons of renewing:

1. Encouragement of new spiritual growth

When we feel like our lives are under fire, maybe our perspective needs to change. Even though it goes against our natural grain, the bible tells us to count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1:2-4, ESV) The new growth - steadfastness - does not come without the trials, or fires, of life.

2. Creation of more space

Maybe I'm the only one, but my life is crazy. You'd think as a stay-at-home mom that maybe it'd be a little more sane than if I were running kids to a million activities or trying to get to work everyday, but even if my days on the outside seem rather tame, my mind is a veritable wasp nest of thoughts, plans and emotions. 

When all the little fires pile up, it can be really hard to get any real grasp on reality or sense of direction. But I've been finding that they are giving me an opportunity to lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely so I can run with endurance the race that is set before me. (Hebrews 12:1)

When all the craziness and struggles crowd close, the light of the fires reveal my true self. My true character, strengths and failings. When rubber meets the road and my back is up against a wall all the imperfections and hidden angst come boiling out and I come face-to-face with the hidden realities that are holding me back in my walk with Christ. My exhaustion and fear give way to anger, impatience, jealousy, cattiness and selfishness. It is not pretty my friends - but the renewing work of the Holy Spirit burns away the spiritual litter and creates space in my soul for God to work. 

It also gives me a chance to simplify and throw off weights that are holding me back and weighing me down. Weight isn't necessarily a bad thing - but too much of a good thing can be a bad thing, and it's times like this that I need to reduce my commitments and the things that are getting in the way of me becoming who God has for me to be. Busyness doesn't always equal righteousness.

Along with the creation of space is...

3. Spiritual management

Creating space in my soul requires the removal of spiritual garbage so it can flourish and add new growth. These icky parts of me that float to the surface when under pressure do so in order for the Spirit to skim off the filth and replace it with the fruits and holiness he offers. Spiritual scrubbing is not comfortable, but the soft tender heart it reveals is worth the pain. 

Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:31-32

And finally,

4. Spiritual revitalization and regrowth

Without pruning, flowering plants cannot reach their full fruitful potential. These hard seasons, these testing of the faith and dark valleys are pruning what is temporary and producing in me the fruits that will last...love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Galatians 5:22) Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. (John 15:2) When God cuts away the dead areas of my life, it is for my benefit. I'd rather have the pain of pruning and renewal than the permanency of spiritual death and destruction.

So all this smoke?

Yes, it's uncomfortable. It limits my vision, makes me feel claustrophobic and a bit panicky. There are moments when it feels a little difficult to breathe. Too much is bad for my health, but it is these seasons of trial and uncertainty and haze that force me to PRESS IN, and PRESS ON. Instead of worrying about everything and solving nothing, I am looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of {my} faith. The moments of pruning seem painful, but I have faith that later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. (Hebrews 12:2,11) 

I know above all this haze, the Son is still shining.

Hang in there dear ones. Brighter days are a comin'.

All is grace, 

Carie

P.S.  Two hours after I finished drafting this post it rained and today dawned bright with puffy clouds and sunshine! Here's hoping we've seen the last of the hazey days...For this year at least.