Bloom Where You Are Planted {Grandma Rose}

Today, my Grandma Rose went home to be with Jesus, to worship Him forever alongside of the love of her life, my Grandpa Sam. She had a long, full life and I was so very blessed to call her my grandmother.

Grandma Rose was born in the midst of some very hard, spare years in both America's story and her family's story. She was one of 7 children and lost her mother at a very young age. She grew through the years into a beautiful young woman with a gentle and kind spirit. She caught the eye of my Grandpa Sam at a young age and their love story is one that I had tremendous privilege to see in person, even well into their final years together.

As I sit and process her passing, the memories are tumbling. 

Snippets of the great tenors and Italian arias wind through my mind. 

Smells of deep red marinara sauce and fried chicken cutlets come alive. 

Her incredibly soft arms are brushing mine while I sit next to her at the table,

listening to the loud, boisterous laughter between the aunts, uncles,

cousins, in-laws and "outlaws" that were always welcome at their table. 

Thanksgiving feasts of turkey, stuffed shells and lasagna 

spread along the two long tables in their basement.

Sitting at her old-fashioned dressing table, pretending to be 

a grown-up "fancy" lady while playing with her hats, pins, and pearls.

Perhaps one of my favorite memories that I replay the most often, even now, is one that took place in her kitchen almost every time I was with them. Grandpa Sam used to pretend to spar with her as she washed the dishes or folded kitchen towels. He was a huge boxing aficionado and he would dance around her, punching the air and saying "Come on, Ro! Have a go with me. Give me your best shot." Her blushing brush-offs and sweet, almost embarrassed and yet tolerant smiles brought me such peace and enjoyment as a kid. Even at that young age, I remember LOVING how they brought us in to their love story with his winks at me when he snuck up on her in the kitchen. With how she rolled her eyes when I would giggle at her "Oh, Sam" responses. As an adult (now that I've learned so much more of their story before they became the patriarchs of this big family we are now), I see so much more. I didn't know it then though. I didn't know how much those moments would come to mean. I just knew I felt loved. By watching their love. 

Grandma Rose wasn't one of those hot-house roses, fragile and easily overcome by the elements. She wasn't green-house born and raised, withering easily for lack of water or care. No, my Grandma Rose was a Knock Out Rose. Yes, she was a beautiful woman. A knockout as they said back in the day. But I'm talking about these beauties. Knock Out Roses are known for their full, lush blooms and for being very low maintenance. They don't require specialized care, perfect soil or optimum sunlight to thrive. They are drought-hearty and their roots spread wide, allowing them to spread and grow well in almost any place they are planted. They bloom where they are planted and then some.

My grandmother was that variety of woman that bloomed regardless of her surroundings. She had a hard childhood. A really hard one. She and her siblings were forced to cling tenaciously to each other, to intertwine their roots and hang on for dear life. And hang on they did. Back then, there was very little special care available to that scrappy immigrant family. They just had to dig in and do life together. When they married, she welcomed my grandfather's even larger family as her own. Together, along with her siblings and his, their love and commitment crafted even deeper roots and lush, full family trees. Their tenacity yielded our close-knit, loving extended family. It was, as I've said before, a wonderful way for a child to grow - connected to generations before me.

Grandma Rose wasn't as loud and boisterous as others in our family were. Usually, she'd be found working quietly in the kitchen, watching the kids playing in the yard from the window over her sink. Or quietly joining the conversations from her spot behind the long counter. She was gentle. Soft-spoken. Humble. Honest. The perfect straight-woman to Grandpa's light-hearted antics. She was steady. Reliable. Comfortably predictable and constant. Along with my Grandfather, her quiet, persevering root system spread its life to three beautiful daughters onward to 10 grandchildren and now to 19 great-grandchildren. Those blooms are beautiful and plenteous and growing still.

We didn't know it when we named her, but our little Mei Mei's personality couldn't really be more opposite from the great-grandmother for whom she is named. But I DID know that the beauty of a Rose, that the joy and life it gives, takes many different varieties so it felt like the perfect fit at the time. In the years since Mei Mei has been home, I've learned that my grandmother and her little namesake share some very similar hard beginnings to their stories. Difficulties that my grandmother overcame and used as a root system to build the life she shared with my grandfather. My grandmother's story and my daughter's story began worlds and generations apart from one another. Nevertheless, their roots are deeply intertwined now. That is the miracle of family, is it not? It is my dearest dream that our Mei Mei will push that root system even deeper, spread it further, and continue the legacy of beautiful, plenteous blooming. That she will carry her name proudly and feel rooted to the heritage into which she is now grafted. No matter the hardships she has faced or will face as she grows.

For several years now, my best friend has been suggesting to me that I fill the front garden with Knock Out Roses because nothing else has grown well there. This Spring, I will do that. I will plant several rose bushes in honor of The Knock Out Rose that my Grandma was. I will remember and I will tell my children that so very often the most beautiful blooms come out of the hardest of hardships.

Good bye Grandma Rose. Thank you for your gentle, loving ways.

Thank you for digging in and doing the hard stuff and creating

this beautiful family we love. Give Grandpa Sam a huge hug for me.

And maybe just a fun, soft little punch in the arm.

I know you have it in you! I love you.

My Tapestry

See that babe in arms? That's my Uncle Johnny. He passed away yesterday, leaving a legacy of kindness, gentleness, and love of family. He was the last of my grandfather's siblings to pass away, the youngest son in a big, loving, Italian family.

Of course, none of them were perfect, but every single memory I have of these great-uncles and great-aunts is just that: GREAT.

Outbursts of laughter around overloaded tables.

Good-natured teasing and bickering.

Stories of stark but happy childhood.

Bear hugs & kisses until you were gasping for breath.

And yes, food. LOTS and LOTS of food at every single gathering.

OH! THE! FOOD!

Not a bad way to grow up. Not at all.

By now, you all know I'm hopelessly sentimental when it comes to matters of family and legacy. Uncle Johnny's passing has provoked a myriad of memories all rife with emotion today. Anchoring all of those feelings is an overwhelming gratitude, I'm so incredibly grateful for the great big tapestry that both sets of my grandparents' generation wove for me and my generation.

This tapestry has been many things

for many people in our family.

A work of art, giving testament to the family's status and standing in society. A witness, if you will, of that which they have achieved together.

A rich backdrop, giving color, depth, and texture to our collective coming story as new immigrants to this country. Bringing their history to their present.

A thick and stable rug to stand upon, when building a life together. A plush but firm "take your stance" kind of setting point.

A soft landing place, a net of sorts that was wide and secure into which they could fall when hard times rocked them off their feet.

A warm wrap into which they could burrow when life felt cold and brutal.

Today, we mostly think of intricate tapestries as works of art to be hung on a wall. But a true family-woven tapestry wasn't always meant to be just gazed at and admired. Admittedly, we aren't as familiar with the many uses that a hand-woven, artfully crafted tapestry can have in today's world. We don't need one piece to do all those things anymore. We have Wayf@ir for rugs and T@rget for sweaters, right? But if you look back in history, family tapestries had many functions beyond their artisan beauty.

It strikes me that my family tapestry has both beauty and function that is sadly becoming more and more rare in this culture in which we live. I'm proud to declare that I will stay anchored to both families who wove this tapestry before me. I will continue to teach my children well in the art of weaving their rows to grow it strong and beautiful for generations to come.

********************************

Uncle Johnny, say hi to Grandpa Sam for me. Enjoy your reunion and your time to worship Jesus to the strains of heavenly Italian opera with him. You are missed here. All of you.

Here I Lay My Ebeneezer

I had a really cool experience today. The Boss and I took Mei Mei to our local Intermediate Unit location to have an Occupational Therapy assessment performed. Back in June, her speech therapist and I noticed some fine motor skills and a couple processing issues that have been lagging behind. Nothing is super alarming, but when these particular skills are taken in relation or proportion to the progress that she is continuing to make in the other areas of her development, it is worth checking out.

We are preparing to send her to pre-school in the fall and this time of year when her IEP is being renewed, we are especially mindful of all of the areas of development that need our continued attention. The new IEP and the results of this evaluation will also be super useful in determining exactly HOW much she has caught up in the areas that sometimes fly under the radar (ya know, when one is the youngest of 6 kids in a very busy, active household.being made in other areas) and how to get her moving forward in other skills.

The OT also gave us a sensory profile to complete while they worked together at a separate table. (Have you ever filled one of those out?! Oh, man they are so cool. I was really getting into it, thinking about the answers for Mei Mei and then how I'd answer for Li'l Empress. Times like this make me feel like I ought to go back to school and get another degree!)  Anyhoo.... As I was reading the questions and ranging out the answers, I was also listening to Mei Mei interact with the evaluator and giggling at how our girl has grown in the two years since she's been home.

Full interactive conversation.

{Almost} complete sentences.

{Almost} completely understandable to a stranger.

And big dashes of her own little {okay, who am I kidding, HUGE!}

personality thrown in just to keep the evaluator on her toes.

It was pure delight to observe and think on for those moments. I know I'm biased, but the evaluator commented several times about "how much fun" this kid is. Make no mistake, she had to be brought back to task quite a few times and reminded to use her polite kind words to express herself. But she really was so much fun to watch.

I sat there for a few seconds as it was wrapping up, just immersed in gratitude. I'm so thankful for the moments when God stops me in my hustle bustle to show me where we've been and where we are heading. It was so much MORE than the assessment of skills in that moment, it almost felt "holy" - like my very own "Ebenezer."

1 Samuel 7:12 (NIV)

“Then Samuel took a stone and set it up

between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, 

saying, “Thus far the Lord has helped us.”

"Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing"

by Robert Robinson, 1757

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,
Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit,
Here Thy praises I'll begin;
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I've come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;
How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

O that day when freed from sinning,
I shall see Thy lovely face;
Clothed then in blood washed linen
How I'll sing Thy sovereign grace;
Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,
Take my ransomed soul away;
Send thine angels now to carry
Me to realms of endless day.

Different is Good, Right?

I mentioned last week that this summer both LadyBug and The Boss have some extra time on their hands. Unfortunately, The Boss's recent "extra time" is the sort that none of us ever really want to embrace. Due to a departmental re-organization, he has been on "summer vacation" with the kids and I since early June. It's been quite a strange summer. Most weeks feel like an endless string of Saturdays around here, as The Boss's presence at home during a week day tend to "take us all down a notch or two" as far as routine is concerned. There are definite plus's to that environment for The Gang, especially on the heels of the very difficult and high tension winter we all just survived. I'm trying to stay focused on the plus's but I have to admit, it's not easy most days.

Ironically, the Thursday before he was released from his position, we were sitting on the couch, catching our breath at the end of a fairly "routine" day. I said something to the effect of, "Gosh, I feel like we are really settling into a good new groove. Like our new normal is here and is do-able. It's kinda nice, isn't it?"

I'm not superstitious or anything even close but golly, you can bet I'm never uttering words like THAT again around here. Sheesh.

Anyway, as I was saying, there are some "upsides" to having Daddy home for the summer. We got the gift of extraordinary quality time together as a family before we sent our boy off to Basic Training. There's never going to be another opportunity to have all 8 of us home quite like this again, now that both boys are launching off into the next stage of their grown-up lives.

~ Father's Day, June 2014 ~

~ Time to leave for Basic Training ~

Letting go of Dr. D was is really hard on both The Boss and I. But knowing that he was moving on to do something he has always dreamed of doing and seeing the excitement and joy in his eyes as he prepared to go really has made it easier. He was born to do this life he is pursuing and while we miss him terribly (like, "I hate seeing his empty bed, parked truck, and my empty couch" kind-of-terrible!), we are incredibly proud of the man he has become and the path he has chosen. More substantive letters would be nice, but hey, I know better than to expect a novel! :)

Oh, how I miss this afternoon sprawl!

The Boss was also able to finish the renovation of our deck in record time, since it didn't have to be squeezed in on weeknights and weekends only. We are so grateful that we had planned this project in advance - both because of the good timing for him to do it and the finances required to complete it. I'm tellin' ya, if you don't follow the Dave Ramsey plan for budgeting and managing your money, our gang is a PERFECT testimony of why you should! We don't do it perfectly but losing his income didn't not derail this project financially. And that's particularly awesome considering that we had demo'd the deck in early May when we had some help available to do so. Living without a deck and all that mess out there all summer would have been SUCH a huge and ugly problem for this pool lovin' gang.

Isn't it so inviting?

Come on by, the iced tea is cold and the pool is warm!

And of course, the "Honey Do" list has gotten a lot of attention since the deck was completed. Little niggling tasks that we have been meaning to "get around to," things that we have needed to repair, re-decorate, or refresh, and so on. Those smaller projects are all getting checked off the list as the days go on. He is a putter-er by nature so while he does miss the routine and structure of a work day (eh, who am I kidding, he doesn't miss it yet), he is really enjoying the time to do all this physical labor and spruce up the house and the yard.

Finally, I'm getting to tackle some projects that I've had on my mental To Do list for a long while now. I mean, Daddy is BETTER than a babysitter and he's free for afternoon swim parties. So I've tucked myself away a couple times to sort through mountains of school papers and projects from the last two school years. I purged my closet and dresser. I went through my jewelry box for the first time in probably 3 years. I even got to go through 4 bags of hand-me-downs within three days of receiving them - a record in this zoo lately! I've been sorting, streamlining, cleaning out, and yes, I'm back to writing. A slow and easy start, but I'm back.

The extra bonus of the swim time with Daddy is that Mei Mei is really acclimating to the pool quite well and coming along in leaps and bounds in her ability to trust Daddy and the big sibs in the water. AND she has slept through the night pretty much every single night for more than 3 weeks now. All that sleep has drastically improved her day-time behavior (and mine). AND her language is just exploding recently. She lightens the mood around here daily with the new things she is learning to say and the mimicry she pulls out at the funniest moments! We can't get over what a difference we are seeing in her, now that her surgeries are over and her body has come to its resting place of her new normal. It's really quite remarkable and I know The Boss has enjoyed being here to see the daily little transformations that are yielding a happier more settled and peaceful little Mei Mei.

Mei Mei turned THREE at the beginning of the summer.

Actually, the night before Dr. D left.
This is her cheesey smile on her new Kai Lan bike.

So. It's a different summer than we had imagined or planned for ourselves. And a very different kind of productivity than we had envisioned. But we're finding the new groove to it and I'm working on appreciating the time we have as a family as much as I can without worrying too much about the job leads and paychecks and insurance issues. THAT kind of worry messes with my momentum in serious ways. I'm finding it to be an hourly choice to alternatively focus my attention. It's not easy and while I do enjoy that he and I are getting these tasks done with unusual (for us) timing and focus, I do have to work to not camp in the worry-tent. I guess I can be thankful for that - it's keeping me sharp and on my spiritual knees at the very least.

It's different. I'm working to find the good in this kind of different.

Red Skies by Kay Bratt

I've just finished a third novel from Kay Bratt's series called Tales of the Scavenger's Daughters. This particular story is a "stand alone" meant to be read with or without connecting to the whole series. But I promise you, once you delve into the life of Benfu and his unique little family, you will WANT to read the whole series.

I'll be digging in to book three, Bitter Winds, this weekend as part of the Advanced Reader team and I can't wait. The kids might have to fend for themselves while I visit with Benfu and Callie and The Boss snores off the remainder of his jet lag (more on that next week!)

Here's what I had to say about Red Skies (which is currently only available in e-reader form - click on the title link). I could have said so much more, but I can't and won't spoil it for anyone else. Trust me - you really need to read this book!

The Scavenger's Daughters series has completely captivated me. I have just finished Red Skies and I think Mari is my favorite of all of Benfu's girls (at least until I read the next one!). Her strength, her determination, her ability to see with her heart and not just her eyes - all of it made for a fabulous story of a young woman overcoming what Chinese society would have branded a permanent disability (that being the condition of being an orphan). The parallel story of An Ni and Mei's journey to each other and then to their point of intersecting with Mari was both devastating and yet incredibly hopeful all at the same time.

I think Kay did a really great job making Beijing teem with life and with building such believable personality and depth of character into the main characters. My favorite scene was when Benfu and Calla Lilly arrived in the midst of Mari's distress. It made me sigh with relief, almost as if I was with Mari in that little apartment, waiting for their rock-solid support and age-old wisdom. That's how believable these story lines are. 

As a momma to a former orphan of Beijing, I was cheering Mari, An Ni, and Mei on in my heart - it's only too easy to recognize that "there but for the Grace of God" could have been my child. My prayer is that Kay's books go far and wide toward raising awareness of the very difficult issues of orphan care in China and the often-forgotten crisis of street children. 

**I received this book in exchange for an honest review

Come on back later for my review on Bitter Winds, and for some pretty awesome KIDS' books that I've had the privilege of reviewing recently. There's even a sweet give-away for one of them!!

An Unwelcome House Guest

It's been pretty quiet here in my little corner of the blogosphere. I know. We've been in a hard season with things. This season has been exhausting. Frustrating. Desperate. Isolating. Painful. Exhausting. Draining. The pace of our household has hardly relented in deference to the hard season. It couldn't.

I can tell you exactly when it started.

Let me tell you the story.

In early December, Trauma came to visit. He snuck into the house, bringing Control, Anxiety, and Fear with him. They are the kind of house guest that rolls into your pretty little guest room unannounced. The kind of house guest that brings his unpleasant friends stowed away in his suitcase before you can even process that his suitcase has been tossed on your guest bed. On the good linens no less. They are the kind of house guest the adage speaks of: "Company and fish start to stink after three days."

Let me tell you, it stunk way sooner than three days.

It seems as if Mei Mei's first surgery brought Trauma out of hiding. It's totally understandable and we knew to expect it from lots of previous experiences - Trauma lurks in those hospitals for lots of kids. Kids from great, loving, nurturing beginnings. Kids from hard places. Kids with serious sicknesses. Kids with simple playground accidents. But it really feels like he was waiting for her in that room. Hiding under that oh-so-institutional crib cage. Hovering under the ugly, rough blankets.

Worse, he felt it necessary to follow her home from the hospital. He toyed with her, making a game of randomly waking her. He got his buddy to help. Fear clutched at her throat. Trauma whipped Control into a frenzy of raging tantrums over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that weren't cut "just so." He'd whisper in Anxiety's ear a teensy little musing, thus starting the "Telephone Game" of insecurities repeated and grossly warped beyond recognition by the time they got to my girl's ear. It took us a few weeks of muscling through our own sleep deprivation and the dirty laundry of these unwelcome guests to figure out that they thought they were here to stay.

When the awareness took root that these weren't visitors, but squatters, The Boss and I dug into our bag of spiritual warfare tactics and started making things very uncomfortable for these intruders. It's been hard work, this remediation of the damage they sought to inflict. It's taken all of our energies. Certain Fruits of the Spirit have gotten extra work-outs, through the muddle of sleep deprivation.

{Really, moms, isn't the irregular sort of sleep deprivation the worst kind of all? I think I could probably get used to 4-5 hours of sleep if that was the new norm. But 8 hours, then 4, then 6 then 4 again? Oh.MY.WORD.}

Scripture is being spoken, sung, hummed, and prayed. The new rocking chair is logging many, many miles. Old hymns of Truth and Promise are being called to mind, used as lullabies, even if the verses are mixed up and tunes are badly mangled. The security and anchor of The Word that my folks encouraged me to memorize and sink deeply into my heart as a young believer are pouring out when I'm too tired to coherently put together my own prayer.

Practical things had to be tended to, to aid the eviction of the unwanted tenants. So January was spent re-establishing household routines and my beloved systems. (Gasp! Yes, even I was shocked at how long it took me to get back on that bandwagon I so love!) I grocery shopped multiple times between snow storms. I baked and cooked whenever the snow dumped on us, and we were snowed in. Menu planning, preparation of the daily dinner, and laundry days all were re-instituted. Many days those tasks were literally ALL that I could handle. But handle them I did. Anxiety had no choice but to pipe down in the wake of the loud, proud boasting of permanence and structure that our return to routines gave. I much prefer when Security and Confidence hang out with my gang, don't you?

February was focused on establishing some kind of social schedule for the little extroverted Mei Mei and her extrovert momma. Too many unstructured days staying home all day gave Trauma and Control way too much freedom to wreak their havoc. Play dates here at home and busy mornings out to do our errands made way for Joy, Cooperation, and Peace to hang out with us. It continues to amaze to me just HOW much of an extrovert this little girl is!

And while we aren't certain that Trauma has left the building just yet, we do feel as if he's recognized that his days are numbered. When he slinks off into the darkness and muck from whence he came, he will have no choice but to pack up his traveling mates with him. The foundation upon which we have built our home has made Trauma's stay an uncomfortable one and he's learning that we cannot, WILL NOT co-habitate with him.

Since our name is on the mortgage, he's the one that's got to go.

Special thanks to my lovely friend, Amelia.

Her keen eye for detail, spiritual wisdom,

and excellent writing skills

helped me pull this metaphor

together with far more eloquence

and consistency of voice

than I am capable of in this hard season!

Moments. {two weeks}

It turns out, I was right in feeling {unprepared} for all that the last two weeks have held for this gang. Until you've lived through something like this, there's really no way you can fully prepare for the experience. EVEN if you have the most awesome support network of "been there done that" mommas sharing their experiences and advice. EVEN if you have an amazing crowd of friends and family praying you through and supporting you practically and emotionally. Which, I am so grateful to say, I do. But still. {unprepared} I was.

I'm not gonna lie. These last two weeks since Mei Mei's surgery have been hard. The day of the surgery, frankly, was likely the easiest of the days that we had while IN the hospital. (We waited. She slept. And oddly, I only felt momentary flashes of nervous anxiety over her care or well-being. SO. SO. grateful for that.)

And just this past Saturday we finally experienced the easiest day-into-overnight since we returned home from our four day stay. In between those good days, we've crammed all kinds of hard moments. Sleepless nights. Night terrors. Temper tantrums. Pain management gone awry. Lost patience. Ugly behavior. And not all of it was Mei Mei.

But in between those good days, we've also crammed a lot of really great moments. Those are the moments on which I am (sometimes hourly) choosing to focus. Those are the moments that the Lord uses to swing my eyes back to HIM and HIS perfect plan for Mei Mei. For our family. It's an act of discipline, this choosing to focus. Especially at this time of year.

Mei Mei got the honor of placing the first ornament
on her first-ever Christmas tree. Yes, I cried.

I could (and am sorely tempted to) stress over the anger and aggression that comes bubbling up out of her in those difficult moments. I could keep looking at that "holiday To Do list" that isn't getting smaller any time soon and despair of ever finishing it in time. I could sink into the flashing moments of Mommy-guilt and inadequacy, wallowing in the fear that I'm not meeting the needs of the other gang members, in the every day and in the fervor of the holiday. I could, I could, I could. And really, I've struggled NOT to.

But then there are these other moments. These moments when HE comes to me and whispers to my heart. Snippets of Scripture memorized as a child. Refrains of songs and hymns buried deep in my heart. I've said it before but it bears repeating. In these moments, I am so incredibly grateful for parents who trained me in The Word. Who taught me to seek His face in good and in bad moments. Who encouraged me and lived out the example that joy comes NOT in the circumstances but in the confidence and security of being HIS CHOSEN CHILD. It has carried me well in these last two weeks.

First cookie decorating party ever! Not sure how much icing went on the cookies.
Last year, only 3 of our kids were home for this tradition.
This year, The Gang was ALL here. Yes, I cried.

I am convinced, in all of these moments, both hard and healing, that the prayers of the Body of Christ carried us. I am convinced that His Word is powerful and full of Truth that rises above the difficult moments. I am convinced, now more than ever, that HE HAS CHOSEN ME for this time. For this child. For even in those moments where I feel like I'm failing miserably at all of it, He speaks to me. In those moments when I wonder if my inadequate and all-too human response to my daughter's broken-ness is doing more damage than good, He offers me HIS response.

It's those moments when I get the second wind to go just a little deeper into her heart. It's those moments when I get a fresh fire to escort her to the healing He has for her. Those moments, even the hardest of moments, I remember that they are just that: moments. By definition, moments (both hard and exultant) are fleeting. He is not. He holds those moments. Each and every one of them.

{unprepared}

today we are heading to a local children's hospital for the first in what will hopefully be just a couple repair procedures for our little mei mei.

it's a pretty big repair. big surgery. big changes.

i'm feeling quite unprepared for what all of this means.

when we left for china to meet mei mei, i had charts, graphs, lists, and calendars filled out, crossed off, and in process. every t was crossed. every i was dotted.

this afternoon, i'm still not sure who's getting whom where and when while i'm at the hospital and the boss is in and out of the office and the house.

when we left for china, i had meals labeled and frozen, groceries purchased, and all the school lunch supplies stockpiled.

this afternoon, i'm pretty sure there's not enough drink pouches in the pantry and the jury is still out on whether or not the milk in the fridge will last past wednesday.

when we left for china, i had laundry totally caught up and every one knew what day was "their" laundry day.

heh. who am i kidding? my laundry system has been out of whack since we returned from china.

when we left for china, i had an itinerary from the agency. i knew what day we'd meet mei mei. i knew what day we'd finalize the adoption. i knew what day we'd tour and when we'd travel on to guangzhou.

today, all i am sure of is we are checking in to the hospital before 6 p.m. surgery begins around 10 a.m. monday morning. the unknown of all the other moments surrounding those two points is starting to freak me out.

and really, that's the core, right there. the unknowns. that's the stuff for which i really feel so unprepared.

from the moment we enter that building, we are facing the beginning of a brand new normal. for us. for mei mei.

all weekend long, really for weeks now, i've been reminding myself that my prepared-ness, or distinct lack thereof, is not really all that important.

what's really important is that i worship THE ONE who holds it all in HIS hands. that HE is never caught unprepared.

and that's enough preparation for me.

it has to be.

Fanning The Flames

I think I might have neglected to mention this to ya'll: Dr. D has spent the last ten days in Alaska! How cool is that?! He is part of a ministry work team that was sent by our home church to go and support the work of Last Frontiers Ministries. As soon as we knew about the trip, we just KNEW that this was something he had to do. And from the reports that have been trickling in for these last days, we weren't wrong. It's been awesome to hear things like "killer work ethic" and "in his element" and "awesome team work" from him and from the other folks with whom he has been serving. Makes a momma's heart proud!

His most recent status update on F@ceb**k alluded to his love of the beautiful land and the fact that he could see himself going back and settling there. Heh. Imagine how much this momma loved hearing that! I assigned one of the team members the special task of being 100% certain that Dr. D gets on that plane and comes home to his momma. The team arrives home tonight and we cannot wait to hug him and hear all about his adventures!

But seriously, what a blessing to be able to launch him off to something that is so life-changing and at the same time, so RIGHT UP HIS ALLEY! I love that God takes such joy in the way He wired my boy AND that He crafted an opportunity like this one for Dr. D to learn more about His Great Love and His plan for his life. As I'd mentioned in my previous post about his enlistment, we've known from a very young age that God had a very creative and unique wiring built into our boy's heart. This trip and the kind of ministry that it offered, with its brand of teamwork and its type of practical ministry (like digging trenches, weatherizing, and other construction projects), set in that rugged environment are indeed integral to the man that Dr. D is becoming. I'm not sure I would have known this as a young mom, but I gotta tell ya: as the mom to two almost-adult young men, one of the most exciting things I get to experience is their steps into that plan and the path that sets them off to pursuing it. I'm so proud, I could burst open with it!

This is now the second short-term missions project one of our Gang has done and I have to say, we are hooked! The benefits AND the lessons that these experiences bring to their lives are really invaluable. Early in our marriage, The Boss and I both did a couple short-term experiences (as staff) with our former youth ministry so we knew that it was something we'd incorporate into our bag of parenting tricks. We are anxious to see what opportunities will be available when LadyBug is ready to venture out.  And we are SUPER excited about a potential trip that The Boss is hoping to take this coming March, ministering in a manner that is very near and dear to our hearts. I'm equally excited about what his experience on that trip will speak to our kids as they watch him prepare and hear about it when he returns. Fanning the flames of ministry in our kids' hearts by exposing them to all different kinds of opportunities to serve around the world is a really fun part of being the Momma to this Gang He's given us!

As soon as Dr. D has settled back in and we get our family debriefing out of the way, I'll be sure to share more about the trip and some of the pictures various team members have shared. Who knows, maybe he'll be excited enough to "guest blog" a photo post?! Until then, here's a sneak peek at a pic my brother-in-law shared with us.

In the meantime, if you are the momma to a little one OR a teen, consider including a short-term missions trip in your family's "curriculum" for launching them to adulthood. You won't be sorry - it's a priceless life-changing experience!

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If you want to hear more about some of the experiences and resources to which we are connected, I'd be happy to share! Leave me a comment or shoot me an email and I'll be in touch!

"Too Many Words"

"Too many words, Li'l Empress. Too many words."

It's an oft-repeated phrase here, particularly in the early morning hours before I've had my coffee. Before my eyes are fully opened and certainly before my brain has caught up to the fact that my body is vertical now. Really the only true morning person in our house, even The Boss has been heard shushing her with this quick reminder to go easy on the rest of The Gang.

Most days, she wakes happy and chatty. Very chatty. From the very moment her eyes flutter open. Chattering to herself quietly in her bed. Singing quietly into her pillow before her feet hit the floor. Thankfully, it's mostly all quiet enough not to disturb Mei Mei. Who does NOT wake quite so talkative. Happy, yes. But quiet. Blissfully quiet and snuggly. But once Li'l E comes down those stairs, it just doesn't stop.

We have to tell her, "too many words, Li'l Empress. Too many words."

When I'm well-caffeinated, awake, and it's a decent hour of the day, I can totally relate to my girl's verbosity. I'm known in my family for being the wordy one. I love words. I love learning and using new ones. I love talking with friends, sharing my thoughts, listening to what's going on in their minds, asking questions about their lives. I enjoy sharing a good story. I get really excited about cheering folks on with my words. I like spirited discussions about lots of topics. I am a verbally expressive person. I love using words to tell folks how I feel about them.

(I don't, however, love repeating the same words

over and over to my children. Ad nauseum.

Can I get an "Amen" from the momma crowd?!)

A while ago, The Boss (semi-jokingly, semi-lovingly) told me that my frustration over a particular conversation, in which I was trying to verbally support that person, likely was because I use "way more words than necessary" to get across my point. That it could have (and in his view maybe should have?) been said far more succinctly (my word, not his!). While I don't disagree with him at all, AND while I know he was sincerely trying to help me see another viewpoint in a loving way, it stung a little. Probably because in this instance, I was attempting to offer my words as a sort of gift. I know now that the gift was not so fitting for the recipient. Although I truly didn't know it so definitively previously and that's why I appreciate The Boss's insight. I've been examining my response to the situation and to his observations for a while now.

I do try to make my words count when speaking with people. I try not to vainly flatter or falsely build them up. I desire my words to be an encouragement. That is likely the reason his summary stung a little. Words aren't the "thing" that this recipient responds to, apparently, and thus my words fell flat. I felt like the gift I had offered was politely accepted as if it was a garish purple and orange sparkly scarf given by that crazy old aunt who shops in her ancient closet for birthday presents. My gift was dismissed.

In examining my feelings about the experience, I've been wondering now. Do I do that to the ones I love? Do I take their gifts and dismiss them without realizing the treasure they represent to the one who gave them? The simple offerings that my gang shares with me come in a variety of sizes, shapes, and colors. Not always words, but often that is how it starts. My gang members all know their way around the words. To varying degrees, they are all well-spoken, conversational, and sometimes down-right chatty. Do I take what they are offering, in the form in which they are offering it, and see it as the gift they are extending? The invitation into their world they are issuing?

Dandelions from the yard clutched in muddy, grubby fingers.

Stories of junior high drama and angst in uncertain voices.

Slightly strange, sometimes bordering on inappropriate, memes gleaned from friends.

"Knock, knock" jokes that really NO ONE understands.

The 999'th "hold me" with reaching arms and clutching fingers.

The random "Hey Mom, listen to this" kind of songs that I don't quite "get."

Sadly, in this recent examination, I'm discovering that it's an area of parenting that I really need to work on with the Lord's help. I need to be more mindful of what is behind what they are saying. They often are attempting to form connection between us and in response, I must throw open my heart more freely and receive those attempts as such. I'm certain that in receiving more openly what my gang is offering, I am creating more safety and security. I am shaping a foundation of love and confidence. I really need the Lord's help in this - to move from examining it into implementing it.

I do think, though, that it is fair to reserve the right to gently tell her "Too many words, Li'l Empress. Too many words." At O'dark Thirty. When the barrage hits me before my big ole Tigger mug full of sugar-free hazelnut creamer-flavored coffee. Right? Right?

Grace Like Rain is LIVE!

There's a big event going on over here that you might want to check out.... wait. Read the rest of this first. Then, go check it out.

This gal, Robin, has been an adoptive momma friend and cheerleader to SO many of us within the Chinese adoption community. I started following her original blog very early in our journey to Li'l Empress, having found her via our (then) mutual agency connections. She was such an encouragement during the long wait. And when we announced we were adopting again, she was equally supportive in both word and deed. While I've never had the privilege of meeting her in person (yet!), we've had many, many discussions and interactions over the last 6 years. Her heart is magnanimous. Compassionate. Steadfast. And Driven. This woman and her husband, in the last five years, have completed three adoptions of beautiful little girls from China. THIS time, they are going back for a little boy (oh, I could just eat him up!) AND another little girl (also quite delish!). Oh yeah. AND they have two older kids already in the mix!

Many of you are likely familiar with her work - I've shared some of it before - and some of you will be new to her creations. The stuff she sews is beautiful, creative, and intentional. She's been "firing up her mean machine" for months, crafting amazing clothing to auction in this fundraiser. This momma is no slouch - her efforts in bringing in the finances to bring these two (and her other kiddoes, frankly) are to be admired. Her work ethic and diligence have been impressive to witness. And the workmanship on these outfits is amazing. This auction is nicely rounded out by many other things donated by her friends and family for the purpose of finishing off the balance of the expenses for these two adoptions.

I know I'll be puting my name and my bid on a couple of the things lined up here. This particular event is near and dear to my heart as one of the kiddoes has a need quite similar to one of my girls. I'm always thrilled when Waiting Children come home but I love the additional connections that Robin and I will share with the addition of these two sweeties. Would you consider heading over and maybe sharing the auction with others too? Just don't bid on the stuff I'm shooting for - it might get ugly!  {insert big grin here}

Grace Like Rain
~An Auction for Caleb and Gabi~

The Joy Is Greater

Mei Mei turned 2 on June 30th. It was a beautiful day to celebrate our girl, even if the weather wasn't perfectly cooperative.

The cousins swam, we ate burgers and dogs, Grandma Bonnie made her FABLIOUS (Li'l Empress' new word o' the day!) macaroni salad, and we enjoyed a perfect day together. It was awesome to watch her blow out her candles - she knew JUST what to do, as The Boss had his big 45th birthday just a few days earlier.

It was such a treat to introduce her to our family birthday traditions and to make sure that her first birthday home with us was grand and memorable! I loved watching her figure out that the gifts were for HER. That ripping open that paper would bring a fun new surprise guaranteed to make us all "oooh and "aaaah" while she explored it. It was pure joy seeing her new family just wrap her up in all their love and affection and carry her along on the wake of "forever."

 

But when I had a few moments alone to think and observe the goings' on, I was also a little sad. I watched her giggling and teasing her cousin with her trademark impish grin and wondered what her birth mother was feeling at that same moment. I couldn't escape the thought that her birth family will never know what an amazing, delightful, brilliant child she is. That pierces my heart each and every time I think on it.

While we may never fully know exactly what led them to place her at the orphanage, we certainly understand that her physical needs and health issues might have been the predominant factor in their choice. Culturally and economically speaking, it's likely that they were completely ill-equipped to handle what they knew she likely would need. But it couldn't have been an easy choice for them, knowing what a gorgeous and sweet baby she must have been. The early pictures of her just take my breath away - her perfect little rosebud lips, her long sweeping eyelashes, and those deep onyx eyes. Thinking of it tears me apart - their pain and fear juxtaposed against what I can only (maybe niaveley?) assume was utter joy in looking at their pretty new baby girl. I don't know any of it for sure, obviously, and I can only suppose any of this from my readings and experiences within the adoption community.

I am everlastingly grateful for the choice they made for Mei Mei - the attempts to ensure her safety and well-being, the plan to find security and medical care for their beautiful baby. I pray for their peace of mind and comfort for their hearts often.

I am forever bound to the women who carried my daughters and I don't let myself forget it. My gratitude unspoken makes me hug my daughters a little tighter. Linger a little longer in their sweet snuggles at the end of the day. Love them a little more fiercely than I thought myself capable of doing.

So I joined the celebrations, juggling my mixed feelings. As I also do for all of Li'l Empress's birthdays and milestones. As I will for years to come, I'm sure. And celebrate, I did. For even though the losses are indeed great, the joy is greater. The endlessness of forever promises that.

Happy Birthday, America!

Oh.My.Word. I can hardly believe it's the 4th of July already. At the risk of sounding trite and cliched, seriously: Where did the month of June go?! I have so much to catch up on and will have to do some backing up of events like the end of the school year, Mei Mei's birthday, and all things momentous. I've mentioned before that Mei Mei does NOT tolerate me sitting at my desktop very well and it really hasn't gotten better. When she's awake, I'm hustling to get something done around here and clean up the messes and STUFF she gets into while trying to "hep" me. And when she's asleep, I'm trying to finish all that I started when she's awake. Or I'm crashing in exhaustion myself. This little one is a spunky little busybody and she seriously is never ever still. Even in her sleep, her little toes and fingers are in motion. Which I know because she's spent the last four mornings in bed with me, snuggled in to go back to sleep after waking at o'dark thirty. Oh.MY.WORD! Anyhoo, that's my disclaimer going in... more to come on other big stuff later!

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This year, the 4th of July is taking on some new meaning for The Gang. It's now forever linked with an important anniversary that we will always mark as a family. Yesterday, our son, known here as Dr. D, enlisted in the U.S. Army Reserves. It's been a long time coming, as he's been praying, researching, and meeting with recruiters of various branches of the armed services since January. But truthfully, it's a calling and a path that The Boss and I have seen growing within our boy since he was a very young child. We are very excited and proud of his single-minded focus to figure out what was the best path for his career and at the same time, nervous and concerned about what this choice means for his life. But this has been in his blood a long, long time and we know God has great plans for whatever twists and turns this path will unfold along the way.

Dr. D has an unusually developed sense of honor, justice and loyalty to country and there's no doubt that he's been deeply affected by world events in his 17 years of life, when viewed through those lenses. I so enjoy listening to his heart, full of idealism and pride in what our nation means to him. I love that he gets legitimately upset at those around him who fail to summon proper respect when the Pledge of Allegiance is spoken at school or other events. His pride in our flag, his respect and honor for the men and women who serve the armed services around him, the rapt attention he pays to his grandfather's stories of their own service, all of it speaks of a deep identification and camaraderie that he is now so excited to be a part of. When he arrived home yesterday after the trip out to Ft. Dix for his official enlistment event, he was beaming. We've always known that he is a kid who NEEDS to identify with a cause or a purpose bigger than himself, and it's a point of great pride for us both that he has found his niche. This niche.

And just like that, I've got a new label to add to my own resume.... As a dear friend mentioned to me on FB yesterday, I'm now a military mom. I even get my own bumper sticker for my van that says so!

Here's some pics of our little attempts at home to honor Dr. D since we couldn't be with him for the actual enlistment ceremony. He was surprised that we did all this for him, but really, he should know me better than that by now! This momma does love to celebrate, especially something so amazing for one of my gang!

Here he is, the newest soldier to join the ranks the U.S. Army.

And just because no celebration of America's birthday

would be complete without a picture (or two!) 

of the cutest little new citizen in town, I give you these!

MWAH! Happy Birthday, America!!!!

I love my new country!

"Daddy's Sweetheart"

and an

"American Cutie"

It just doesn't get better than that!

Miraculous

Like most of the adoption community, I've had the privilege over the last week or so to be praying for little Teresa Bartilinski and her family. It's been a lot of waiting, for them, for those of us loosely connected to them through the red threads of adoption, and for the world who is now watching. The waiting has given me much time to think while praying. Little Teresa's journey to her forever family is miraculous.

Her life since coming home, battle after battle to get some weight on her, to keep her levels stable, to keep her healthy and virus free, to live a normal childhood in the midst of it all. It's all miraculous.

In the midst of it all, our own family was doing some waiting last week. My sweet little nephew, Kilian Edward, was due to make an appearance and when we got the news that labor had begun, the waiting felt intensely difficult. Hours dragged by and I swear that June 19th was the.longest.day.EVER. I was praying and checking my phone incessantly, waiting for something! anything! that would let me know he had safely arrived and that my sister-in-law was recovering well.

The call finally came and the details were sparse at first but really, who cares about details when there's THIS FACE to gaze at instead?!

Later in the week, I finally snuck some time away to talk with my brother and hear all the details that I'd been  wanting to know. And as my brother told Kilian's birth story, I was consumed with gratitude. His entry to our world, to our family, was challenging. Even slightly traumatic - especially for my brother and my sister-in-law. His arrival is miraculous.

Something the doctor said to us early in the process of studying Mei Mei's needs came to mind while my brother was sharing.... the interventions in the early two or three days of Mei Mei's life, before she even made it to the orphanage likely saved her life. Her arrival at the orphanage, her survival despite the harsh conditions under which she spent her first two weeks of life, her overall general good health while we waited to get to her and bring her home. It's all miraculous.

Every single one of these children are such miracles. No matter their birth story. No matter their journey to our homes. No matter the normalcy of their arrivals. Or the trauma they have endured in the getting here. They each are miraculous.

I'm certain that I'm not the only one guilty of forgetting the magnitude of these tiny (and not so tiny!) miracles that walk around our homes, begging for more popsicles, poking their siblings, and leaving dirty socks on the floor. I'm sure that the busy-ness of regular life takes over for all of you as it does for me. And the glory of this calling of parenthood is lost in the grime and the guts of the job. The demands of the daily-ness of it all cloud my vision all too often. The events of this past week have lifted my head and slowed my pace. I'm drinking in these moments more than I did last week. Are you?

While you are joining the rest of us in praying for yet another miracle for sweet little Teresa, stop for a moment and intentionally enjoy the awe of the little miracles in your own home. However they got to your arms, it's miraculous. They are miraculous.