Letters to Jenna #5

My little Princess,

Tonight is our final class! Though we have learned so many valuable things, we are so excited to be done and ready to move to the next step. We’re hoping they will schedule our home study soon, and complete it quickly. We are so eager to learn more about you and bring you home. We want to know your favorite color so we can decorate your room soon. So many of our family and friends are excited and can’t wait to meet you. We have people at church praying for you, some who don’t even know us yet. Some even want to buy you welcome gifts, and have asked if we know your size.

This past weekend was the 4th of July. We barbequed at your aunt’s house. We had family from out of state visiting. I kept thinking how exciting it will be when we can introduce you to them, when you can play with your brothers and cousins. I long for next year when we can all sit together and watch in awe as the fireworks light up the sky.

The boys are so eager for you to come home. I love how they think of you already as a part of the family…even before they’ve met you. They ask questions about you. They include you in everything: talking about school, trips, church, pictures, toys, games, prayers. A few times we’ve bought them something, and they ask “which one is for Jenna?”

As I think about how close the day is approaching, I wonder how God is stirring your heart to get you ready to come home. Our hearts have been through many ups and downs during this long process. But we have pushed through and now are so close to the finish. We all just have to hang on a little longer, and continue to pray. Hang in there Princess. You’ll be home soon.

Love,

Mommy

Suffering With

This past Sunday, during worship, I was so heavily burdened,
the Holy Spirit caused me to kneel and intercede in prayer…
for the lost…
for the hurting…
for the prisoners…

As I sat there on my knees, I wept bitterly…
for those I didn’t know…
for sorrows I couldn’t name…
for chains I could not see.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life…John 3:16

We’re all familiar with this verse.
We see it at sporting events.
People throw it around like a beachball.

But do we really understand its depth?
Are we capable of grasping its implication for how we are to live?

We’re told throughout Scripture to share in the suffering of Christ.
           We think of Paul and the other apostles,
                 who endured painful torture and death at the hands of persecutors,
                        who gave their lives for the furtherance of the Gospel.

In our American sheltered luxury, we often think that suffering means enduring ridicule or being a social outcast for living and sharing our faith.
Maybe even sacrificing material desires in order to be obedient in our tithe…
Or giving up our weekend pleasures to serve in ministry…
We are grateful that we aren’t forced to suffer the ways many Christians throughout history, and today, around the world suffer for the sake of Christ, being beaten, killed, tortured, burned alive, separated from their families, martyred.

I, as many, have reflected, and considered whether my faith would be strong enough
–whether I am strong enough–
to endure those types of suffering.
If my child were threatened, would I have enough faith to stand firm?
          If the knife were at my throat,
                           the gun to my head,
              if I were drenched in gasoline and the match was inches away,
would I have the courage to still proclaim Christ?
I’ve long been thankful that I will likely never have to find out.

But is that what He was really talking about?
Is the extremity really necessary?

Is that the God we serve?

I don’t intend to minimize the suffering of the saints who have endured extreme persecution.

The Holy Spirit has just been teaching me something different.

But go and learn what this means: I DESIRE COMPASSION, AND NOT SACRIFICE;
for I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners…Matthew 9:13

He’s been teaching me about compassion.

          Compassion comes from a latin root:
                      com=with or beside; 
                      passion=suffering or feeling
          Compassion: to suffer with or beside; to share in one’s suffering

I’ve always been gifted with compassion. But my understanding has deepened.

We see suffering. 
We experience suffering.
Right here.
In our city.
In our neighborhood.
In our schools.
In our churches.
In our homes.

It looks different…
It’s more subtle…
Yet it can be just as destructive
–perhaps even more destructive–
as physical torture.

The suffering we see attacks the very soul.

I see people at extreme lows.
Total despair.
Buried in shame,
            consumed with anger,
         soured in bitterness,
  smothered in fear,
                      lost in darkness.

As I pray with people through their suffering,
I get to experience the intensity of their feelings.
It’s part of my spiritual gifting.

I feel the shame that makes them curl up and want to disappear.
I experience the darkness that surrounds them and leaves them blinded to God’s goodness.
I burn with the anger they hold on to.
I shudder in the fear that consumes them.
I am heavy with the unforgiveness they harbor.
I battle against the thoughts of death that seduce or torment them.
I hear the lies that taunt them.
I confront the demons that prey on their suffering,
    trespass on their souls,
        pulling them further into the abyss.

I experience compassion…I share in their suffering…
It’s a heavy burden sometimes.
It’s messy.
It’s troublesome.
It’s difficult.

Yet what I experience with them is nothing compared to what Christ experienced.

His suffering was not just physical. It was not isolated to the cross.

He has suffered from the beginning,
                 knowing we would turn away
…and embrace the knowledge–the experience–of good…and evil…

…and yet, He loved the world so much, He made a plan to redeem.

I can hardly fathom the great love of the Father…to love an undeserving people
so deeply,
so intensely,
so unconditionally,
so relentlessly,
so tenderly,
that He would be willing to become one of us and endure the cross…
that He collects our every tear and record each of our sorrows (Psalm 56:8)…
that He wept bitterly (Luke 19:41)…
          and felt great compassion, for those distressed and dispirited
                   …like sheep without a shepherd (Matt 9:36)

That kind of love…and we just don’t seem to get it…that’s suffering.

Parents can only experience a glimpse of this kind of love for our children.

But do we really know the suffering of Christ?
Do we experience the suffering of Christ?
He suffered in body.
He suffered in Spirit.
His heart was broken and grieved.
he was deeply moved and troubled in spirit. (John 11:33)
He wept bitterly for His people.

…

We are surrounded by suffering.

It’s time for battle.

Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor; not lagging behind in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the LORD; rejoicing in hope, persevering in tribulation, devoted to prayer, contributing to the needs of the saints, practicing hospitality. ..Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep…Romans 12: 10-15

He defended the cause of the poor and needy (materially and in spirit), and then it was well. Isn’t that what it means to know Me? declares Yahweh…Jeremiah 22:16

Are we ready to emerge from our comfort zones?
       …and share in the suffering of others…of ourselves…of Christ?

Suffering with…

to know Christ.

Do you really know Him?

At the Well

It’s taken me a week to publish this…a tough one…

Mayim Hayim–Living Water

John 4…At the well, Jacob’s well, on the outskirts of town, a Samaritan woman comes during the heat of the day to draw water. Jesus meets her there, and asks for a drink. He offers her living water, and tells her to go and bring her husband. She admits that she is not married, which, of course, He already knew. He refers to her five ex-husbands, and her current live-in boyfriend. This woman was a social outcast, caught in a life of sexual sin. He essentially tells her He knows her fruitless pursuits: seeking fulfillment, escape, belonging, and more, in mere men and the things of this world. She is amazed and runs back to town to tell the rest of the Samaritans about the Messiah, whom she has just met face to face, and who told her everything she had ever done. Many Samaritans believed after hearing the woman’s testimony about Jesus’ words.

I think about the woman’s words, what Jesus called her to, and the Samaritans’ response.

I think back to my first encounter at the well…

 

My initial response to sexual abuse was to withdraw, turn inward, and insulate myself almost completely. It was easy to convince everyone that I was just stuck up, being a cheerleader and all…

 

Truth be told–I was afraid:

…afraid of boys…the only ones who seemed to take much notice of me hurt me, binding me to a life of darkness, confusion, and secrecy…
…afraid of being found out…I couldn’t bear for anyone else to know the shame, horror, and humiliation I had experienced…

Dysfunction and chaos at home just added fuel to the fire…

I walked a fine line
                       …between the external confident, fun-loving feistiness
         …and the internal shame, fear, and self-hatred that consumed me.

It’s taken me a long time to realize what was happening to me…
        what I was doing to myself…

 

                                               I began walking two paths–
   …the one most could see–of apparent perfection: 
           high grades, prudish chastity, full of accomplishments…
                     …the other was much darker–the road to self-destruction:
                                                     alcohol, partying, casual dating…

Along both paths I experienced
                        further betrayal
              more violations
                                      and a brutally terrifying assault.

Unable to deal with the assault or other abuses at the time, I needed other reasons to hate myself.

 

Before long, I plunged almost completely into the darkness.

 

Into the abyss…

          …immersed in the poison, deceit, confusion…

 

Within a couple of years, I found myself
                     nearly flunking out of college
                                              drinking and partying almost every weekend
                           squandering my soul piece by piece
      on the verge of a life I had never imagined for myself
                     …nor ever wanted for myself.

 

Then…one morning…I woke up…
Literally…

 

…next to an older man I barely knew…
                   so hungover that I couldn’t remember how
                           the previous night had ended…

…and still can’t remember…

 

…I woke up at the well…

 

I heard a Voice inside ask me,

“Wendy…what are you doing here?
This isn’t who I created you to be.
Is this what you want for yourself?”

 

No.

 

I walked away…
                  from the drinking
     the partying
              the clubs
                        the dating…

I was ready to walk away…but was not yet strong enough for the battle…
                      so I locked that part of my life away…
 

    …while traces of the poison still coursed through my veins…

 
        …and I ran headlong back to the life I had envisioned…
               graduated college with honors, married a good man,
                          went to graduate school… 
                                     I have two beautiful children, 
                                            my dream career
                         …and Christ…

 

After many years, Jesus brought me back to the well
                 –to join the battle–
                      it was time to begin bleeding out the toxic sin
                        that had plagued my life and relationships…

 

   …it was finally time to tell the other Samaritans about the Messiah
                            Who told me everything I had ever done…
                  Who called me out of my life of sin
                                 Who offered me Living Water
          and invited me into a life of mercy, grace, redemption,
                                    restoration, healing, wholeness,
                  sacrifice, joy, servanthood…

                                    …into a life of Immanuel…

 

Mayim Hayim…Living Water… 

Have you been to the well?

Letters to Jenna #4

Jenna,

Only three more classes to go! The weeks don’t seem to count down quickly enough, though we are learning alot. We had your brother’s birthday party this past weekend. We wish you could have been here to share it with us. We all got to be rock stars and decorated t-shirts. We tried to make a rock video. I wonder if you would be as camera shy as the rest of the kids ended up being.

We got our home inspection done this week. Our house is officially safe enough for kids. It’s also mommy-proofed, because to put stuff out of children’s reach, it’s now also out of my reach.

I got to see another family’s adoption finalized this morning. I kept thinking of you, and how that will hopefully be us soon. We are trying to wait patiently, though we are eager to bring you home.

Take care. I’m praying for you every day.

Love,

Mommy

Thirsty Soul

We had an awesome prayer session this morning. I’m continually amazed to witness the things Christ has enabled us and empowered us to do through Him. As we came to a close, the instruction was clear: drink of the Holy Spirit.

 

Now on the last day, the great {day} of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. ”He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, ‘From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.’ “ But this He spoke of the Spirit, whom those who believed in Him were to receive.
John 7:36-39

…we were all made to drink of one Spirit
1 Cor 12:13

The Spirit and the bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who wishes, take the water of life without cost.
Revelation 22:17

Let them give thanks to the LORD for His lovingkindness, And for His wonders to the sons of men! For He has satisfied the thirsty soul, And the hungry soul He has filled with what is good. 
Psalm 107:8-9

For I will pour out water on the thirsty, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour out My Spirit on your offspring, and My blessing on your descendants.
Isaiah 44:3

 

The Holy Spirit is being poured out like living water…Will you drink?

Gift

First off, I’m feeling a bit better than last week. I’m feeling much more secure, completely in the tender, strong hands of Christ.

I discovered something really amazing this weekend, as I’ve been “preparing my case”. It highlighted the awesome healing work that has been taking place these past couple of years.

One of the catalysts in evaluating my life and my relationships a few years ago was that I recognized that I had no close friendships. I had no one with whom I felt I could share the deep, dark, raw, and vulnerable places within. As I wrestled with questions, wrestled in my faith, wrestled in my marriage, wrestled with terrible memories re-surfacing, I had no one to turn to.

…truth is, I had plenty to turn to, but no one I felt I could, or would, turn to…

In B4A, we made a short list of our support people, who we could call on if/when things got really tough.

This weekend, I began making a list…of people I could turn to for support and for prayer. I was amazed at what I found. The names just kept flowing.

In addition to my husband and counselor, I was able to list more than 50 people.

Of course, there are a handful on the “short list”, with whom I would feel the most comfortable, who are most familiar with my story and my struggles.

But the rest, I know I could call, text, email, or walk into their office, and without a lengthy explanation, receive immediate prayer, encouragement, and biblical insight.

WOW!

Thanks Abba, not only for providing such strong, caring, loving people, but for giving me an opportunity to recognize such a gift.

Letters to Jenna #3

Jenna,

This weekend, I’m going to work on putting together a picture book for you. The boys are going to write notes, and make flowers for you.

Last night in class, we discussed grief and loss. As I put myself in your shoes, my heart just broke for you. What you may have been through. How many times, and in how many ways, your heart has been broken. How it all has made you feel. I just wanted to hold you last night, rock you, sing over you, and tell you I love you.

I’m a bit scared, though. I’m worried that I may never get the chance. I’m worried that you may never get to call me mommy. I’m worried that if it all doesn’t work out, you may never know how much we love you, have prayed for you, and waited for you. You may never even know about us. You may never get to read this letter.

Some people hurt me when I was a little girl. The Big People are concerned that if you were hurt the same kind of way I was, that it may be too hard for us to be a family. I don’t think it would be as hard as they are worried it might be. Sure, I know it will be difficult. I know it won’t be easy by any means. If you have been hurt like I was, I know that it’s really confusing, scary, and just feels icky, and you have no idea what to do or say. You don’t know whether to scream, cry, pretend, or what.

But I know how to listen. How to be patient. How to be gentle. tender. safe. accepting. loving.

I’m not sure what will happen. But this I do know: Our Abba, our Daddy, is in control. He is with us. He always has been. Even through the really sad and really bad times. Even when we feel that no one else is around. He is there. I hope you can experience Him. I hope you can know His love.

You have been growing in my heart for several months now. I pray that I will get to hold you soon. To bring you home.

My deepest prayer, my strongest desire, is that even though you are not here now, that you will feel the amazing love for you that is in my heart. That you will know how much you are wanted. That you will know how much you are cared for. That you will know how special you are. That you will know you are a Princess.

I love you,

Mommy

Wrestling Heart

As many of you know, we are in the process of adopting a little girl.

Well, maybe not so little…She’s 12.

We saw her picture months ago, and were captivated. I’ve been praying over her, preparing for her, and thinking about her all these months. I’ve wondered what might have put her into the system. How long she’s been in the system. How many homes she’s lived in. How many schools she’s had to learn in. How many friends she’s left behind. What connection to her past she still has. How much she wants to have.

…In come the warnings: “don’t get too attached…anything can happen.”

Pbpbpbpt!!! I’ve spent my whole life not getting too excited or too attached, because I got tired of the disappointment. God told me a couple of years ago, that I was going to have to take risks. So I did.

From that first night, I have loved this little girl like she is my own. Even though I only know a handful of facts about her. Even though I have never met her, but have only seen her picture. I have no idea what she will be like. How long it may take to adjust. Who she will grow up to be. Or even if I will ever get to hold her…I still love her. Like a mother loves her unborn child, without knowing, seeing, or touching, I love this little girl. She is my little girl.

I really felt the Holy Spirit tell me the first time I saw her picture, “This is My little girl, and I want you to love her”.

Now, it’s social workers’ jobs to prepare people for worst-case-scenario. These children have had their hearts broken countless times, in unimaginable ways, and I’m sure the social workers carry that and feel that too. They have to be protective…of the children, of themselves, of us.

At our interview, they mentioned the possible obstacles that could come up in this process. I’ve been well aware of the things that might happen. I know the kinds of things this little girl might have to deal with. I have a vivid imagination. I also have experience with some of these things. I’m aware of some of the things she might do to cope. I don’t expect it to be a cake walk. I only expect to love her anyway. With the love of Christ.

Yet, last night after our foster/adoption licencing class, I hit a speed bump. That’s an understatement. The class content was heart-breaking enough, focusing on grief and loss, and imagining what kinds of loss these kids experience, and how they’ve coped and survived.

After class, I was asking our social worker a question regarding the home studies. In our conversation, one of those obstacles presented itself again as a possibility, maybe even probability. They want to be cautious about potential triggers, both for me and for her. He wasn’t certain, but she and I may share something in our experiences that causes them to pause. To hesitate. To reconsider.

He assured me, that they will find a match for us…My heart dropped. The thought of losing this little girl. Tonight of all nights? Inside, I started scrambling, stirring, grasping.

I was up most of the night, praying, wrestling with feelings, naming them, imagining how I might work through various possibilities, preparing my case.

A battle is raging…
I named anger…at the perpetrators who took so much from me so long ago, who even now, threaten to take something even more precious
I named frustration…because I feel helpless–it’s ultimately not my decision
I named fear…of losing, of the unknown, of them erring too far on the side of caution
I named intimidation…because part of me is worried about not being heard, being misunderstood, labeled, or under-estimated
I named shame…for trying to make me feel like it’s because of who I am or what I’ve experienced

I fought them by…
Surrendering…to Christ, His sovereignty, His goodness, His will.

My Abba is bigger than any doubt, any obstacle, any rule, any pre-conceived notions, any reservations, any stigmas, any labels, any opinions…He is BIGGER…He is STRONGER.

He has a plan. He gave me this girl. Even if for just a season. Even if I may never hold her. Even if I may never meet her. She has been conceived in my heart, and will continue to grow there. 

My heart is in His hands.

God is using this to teach me so much
about love
about belonging
about trusting
about surrendering
about accepting
about fighting
about adoption
about loss
about being vulnerable

Please pray for us on this challenging journey of faith…I’m off to write another letter…

Letters to Jenna #2

Jenna,

We are still plugging along in the licensing class, waiting for the weeks to pass until we can complete the process and bring you home. Only 8 more to go (only?).

The website that has your picture is down, so I haven’t been able to look at it in a couple of days. Yet, just as I do with the boys, I can still see you when I close my eyes. I wonder if you will have other pictures to bring with you. I wonder how much you’ve grown since that picture was taken.

We played on the slip n slide this weekend. As I watched the boys laugh and play, and slid down the slippery track myself, I thought of you, and what sweet fun it will be when you can join in the playtime. We’re planning a birthday party for your brother. I think about how we will miss having you this time around. But, there will be many more to come.

What would you think about a sister, too? We heard a story about another girl waiting for a family, and my thought was “two girls?” We can only continue to pray and wait to see what God will bring. In the meantime, take care, my princess.

Thinking of you,

Mommy

Letters to Jenna #1

I remember the first time I saw your picture. I was captivated. I envisioned you playing on the swingset in the back yard, tucking you into bed at night, throwing you a birthday party…I know we have missed a birthday during this long wait. I pray that this process moves quickly, though in God’s time, so we don’t miss another.

The boys are excited and eager to have you home. They ask everyday, when will “Jenna” come home?

I look at your picture every day. I wonder where you are now. I wonder how long you’ve waited. I wonder if you have any idea how our hearts are being knit together during these months. I wonder if you’ve met Jesus. I wonder how God is preparing your heart.

I wonder what you will like–your favorite color, your favorite games, your favorite characters.  Will we watch Hannah Montana, listen to Jonas Brothers, play hula hoop and hopscotch and paint our toes?

The wait is long. The social worker suggested treating the wait like a pregnancy. I responded, “I try, but when you’re pregnant, your child doesn’t live with someone else!”

I struggle with what to pray for you now. While I want you to be happy and feel cared for now, it would be difficult to uproot you from that. Of course, I don’t wish you to be lonely or hurting. I can only pray that if it is God’s will for you to join our family, that your heart would be opening up for us, that your soul would be ready for Jesus, and that your life would be ready to be knit together with ours.

We can’t wait to bring you home.

Love,

mommy in waiting