Priceless

I am learning to hear God's voice in my life.  Sometimes I'm dismayed as I near 40, that I have taken so long to clue in, and I wonder why God is so patient with me.  But as I walk this new road in my life, I suspect my learning curve is turning more sharply!  Twice this week, I had moments when I was struck by the gifts of God's people in my life, and the sharpness of the reality nearly took my breath away.  My only response could be turning my eyes to God and saying, "thank you"!

When you're used to taking care of others and believing you can handle anything one your own with enough tenacity, accepting the gifts of others is really humbling.  I mean really humbling, but this week I've grown in allowing myself the notion that this care is God's hand. 

I've been taught in my Reformed up-bringing, that every square inch of creation is claimed by Christ, and yet, in this privileged, Western influenced culture in which I've been raised, all of our belongings have a decidedly personal and individual flavor.  Nearly every Christian I know would agree, "oh, yes, it's all God's", but when we are deciding how many square feet our homes need to be and what decor should bedeck the space or when we look in our closets and are bored with the array of choices and decide we need an additional piece... our behavior indicates we have definite beliefs about who's money we have.  We claim a lot as ours.  I am not simply pointing fingers here.  This is a daily struggle I fight with my flesh and I am wrestling with how to work out where the line is between being blessed and being selfish.  How much does he allow us choice, longing for our obedience and reflection of his nature, and how much does he determine by simply moving his vast resources where he most desires them to be?  (Surely this is not a new question for Christians!)

I don't know that I need to have a defined answer to these questions to appreciate what God is teaching me these days.  What I am recognizing is that when I am "gifted" by fellow believers, I am learning two things.  First, to respond to the leap of joy in my heart and say thanks to God for his lavish provision, and second to celebrate the reflection of Christ I am witnessing in a brother or sister in Christ.  How many of us get to see this close up?  Oh how I wish I could tell you the names of the people who have blessed me this week!  Not for glory but for celebration of God's greatness and human responsiveness to him, that you might share more fully in fellowship we have experienced this week!  But I think I can get the point across without names, since these could be any believers living out generous obedience.

I had mentioned in a previous post about having worries about our family's dental needs.  Earlier this week we had the privilege of receiving care.  And as I sat in the office I was suddenly filled with strong emotion.  I have never imagined a visit to the dentist as being a spiritual thing, but I felt such love and gratitude to those providing our care as they reflected God at work in their lives, and such awe at how God was taking care of my "little worry" in a big way.  It made me feel closer to these brothers and sisters in Christ!  I felt a new bond with them as they used their gifts and talents to bless my family, allowing us a peek into their hearts, and allowing them a peek into ours by letting them serve us.  If they had been too busy or selfish to have given of their time and service or if we had been too prideful to accept, we would both have missed out on a blessing that can't be bought!

Then for a second time this week I was made aware of God's gifting through others.  We are putting the finishing touches on our support letter and have not yet made any public request for financial support as we prepare for our move to Haiti.  But this week a significant donation in our name was made at church!  I was blown away!  When Kirk told me about the gift, again my heart was so full of joy and praise to God!  Wow, is he amazing!  It was like a personal note from God saying, "Here's the start.  The exact wording of your request on paper is nice but is not necessary to accomplish my purposes.  I will take care of what you need to get to Haiti because that is where I want you to be for the sake of my kingdom." 

Did this family have any idea that their gift would be used to speak to me in this way?  Was it given with a prayer that it be worth more than the dollar amount could pay for?  I doubt it, but I hope to tell them sometime soon what God used it for and maybe change the way I give by adding that simple prayer of blessing!  God is so good!  He takes meaningless, ink-printed paper to which we have assigned value, and turns the value into something of far greater worth.  The paper value will quickly be spent and be gone, but the God-value compounds as my heart is tied to another believer's, strengthening both of us for greater service in God's kingdom.

A theme that has been developing in my understanding of God in the past few years is his relational nature.  I am coming to realize the great intimacy he experiences within himself  which he longs to share with us, and how he is tickled pink when his kiddos reflect that intimate fellowship with one another.  Pastor Steve preached on this topic this morning, and it reinforced this notion.

I think that's what this stuff is all about.  How we are to think about what is "ours", how we are to think about what to buy or not to, what to support or not to, how to share our lives with one another or not to, etc.  The old "WWJD" got to be a cliche, but the question still lies at the heart of living out our gratitude for how God has loved us - to live out the kind of relational intimacy with his people and his creation that he has shown us!

"Love the Lord your God will all your heart,
with all your mind, and with all your strength,
and love your neighbor as yourself." 

Oh Lord, teach me to give my all for intimacy with you and true fellowship with my brothers and sisters.

_____________________________________________________________

We got some new pics of the girls today!  Here they are:

Natalie

Rose

Can't wait to hug them and kiss their chubby cheeks! : )  Doesn't the COTP staff do a great job of pics?

My Golden Calf

Last night as I was falling asleep I was meandering through thoughts in my mind about feeling inadequate.  Inadequacy is a state I have become familiar with in the past year.  There have been periods of my adult life I have felt quite put together, orderly, predictable, stable... all words to describe having it all under control.  But the last year has challenged that in me, and I am beginning to believe it is for the better.  I needed God to undo me to show me his reign in my life and to let me know that my idea of holding it all together was a thin film over the reality of chaos just out of sight.  Chaos, that is, without the one who holds all things in his firm grasp.

I was also thinking about, just as I can act like I'm in control in my world, I can do just the opposite as well, and act like because I am feeling inadequate, that I am powerless.  "Inadequate" may just be my backhanded way of saying, "God, there's nothing that can be done", as if my powerless has anything to do with His.  In my myopic view, stuck in self-absorption, I am saying,  

"I'm not big enough, so you must not be big enough either.  Move over God, I'm worshipping the twin idols of fear and self-pity.  I don't have enough room for your greatness."

I am beginning to realize that both extremes are really just different poles on the same line of idolatry.  I am either holding trust in my own self-sufficiency over God, or holding my inadequacy above his greatness.  In either case, I am taking my eyes off the one who longs to be Lord of my life, and who knows the plans he has for me, and replacing him with a thing that is powerless.

So I am trying to start fresh at being sensitive to the Spirit's guiding and not being so quick to think with grandiosity or despair.  I just ask that you pray for me that  I may be centered in God's will, find my value, meaning, and joy there, and that my life may be filled with fruit so that I can boast in what God has done in me. 

Big Enough-
by Ayiesha Woods

Whack-A-Mole

Worry can play funny tricks on us.  When there are so many things to be thinking and keeping track of, the littlest notions can take up disproportionate space in my brain.  Lately, worries about my teeth have taken hold.  Not just mine, but that of my kids, too, since we have gone years without dental insurance and by default, dental care.  I  have some issues going on in my mouth that may have provoked the worry, and Elijah has been complaining of tooth pain lately, but in the past month it seems nearly every day I have been carrying unspoken anxiety that pops up, mole-like, at random moments. 

On Thursday, Elijah was complaining of a toothache while eating with others, and before I could whack-a--mole the thought, out popped a public comment about not being to the dentist in awhile.  Filter girl, filter!  I tried to just move on in the conversation, feeling a little dumb for blurting too much info.  That night, as I stood in the solace of the shower, the worry sprang to life, this time, a tummy-twisting knot intent on stealing my moment of peace.  As a lump of tears rose in my throat, I prayed.

It was a small prayer.  There with Pantene lather only half-rinsed out, I paused and lifted my hands, just asking God to take the worry, saying, "Lord you have the resources to meet our needs.  Everything we have is yours, so if it's your will, please make a way for us to take care of our teeth before we leave for Haiti.  And if not, please give me a peace to cover the anxiety." 

Praying about teeth feels silly.  What right do I have to ask the God of the universe to pay for my teeth and take care of my petty anxieties when there are so many pressing needs in this world? 

So that was it.  I moved on, really not giving that moment another thought.  The kids and I went to visit cousins in the Twin Cities for a couple of days.  Friday night, after everyone else in the house had gone to bed, I called Kirk to touch bases and see how his day had gone.  Before ending the conversation, he added, "oh, and something kind of cool happened today - I got an e-mail from someone and we're going to get help with our dental needs.  We just have to call and make an appointment."  Someone had heard my indiscreet comment about Elijah's teeth and for some reason chose to take action.  They made a few calls that turned into dental care for all of us.  They had no idea what I had been thinking and feeling for days, what I was going to pray that night, what God would do with their action...

Even before remembering my prayer the day before, tears came to my eyes with the relief of relieved anxiety.  And then I caught my breath as I rolled back the moment in my mind of the small prayer just the night before.

My little worries are enough for God to take notice of? 

My teeth can fit into his agenda right there next to dying babies and earthquakes?

I don't want this lesson to be lost on me, but this is really big to hold, that the God who holds both universes and sparrows can hold my worries, too!  I know this truth in a Sunday School way, but then there are moments like this, where the clarity becomes blinding.  It's like moving to the next story up in a building and realizing that in addition to city there is a beautiful forest or lake shore a little ways off.  God is changing my perspective, whacking my moles, moving my mountains,  showing me his greatness, and his great care.

  There may be days ahead where He will want me to lean on him through greater hardship or perhaps many days of little worries.  Can I learn to trust Him through it all and not be too prideful to ask for His hand?  Can I live like I know He is great?   "Oh Lord, you are much greater than I give you room to be! Open my eyes to Your fullness and replace my independence with full dependence on You!"

The Desires of Our Heart... Precious Rose

I had a chance to tell a bit about how we came to the point of adopting, but not how we decided on two, and how it came to be Rose. 

After deciding to adopt at all, Kirk felt strongly that if we were going to adopt one, we should adopt two in order to help keep some balance in our family between American and Haitian.  Having two Haitian children, he reasoned, would help us better identify with the Haitian part of our family, and since we had two biological boys and knew we were getting Natalie, we decided on two Haitian girls.  Easier for sharing a room, passing along clothing, etc.  (That, and Momma wanted to play with ribbons and dresses and pretty shoes!)  So we waited for our 2nd referral. 

While we were in Haiti we had time every morning where we would go to the baby house and "check out" a baby for some 1:1 time.  Noah and Elijah would get a little overwhelmed by some of the older babies and toddlers who swarmed them like they were the Pied Piper, so it was not such a surprise that we gravitated to the infant room.  There Noah, especially, became attached to a sweet 9 month baby girl named Rose Guerda.  Rose is a common Haitian name but is usually used as part of two-part name like we would say, "Lilly Grace" or "Ruth Ann".

Rose Guerda had a halo of perfect, soft curls, winding for inches above her little head, milk chocolaty skin, eyes the deepest brown, and a gummy grin you couldn't help but respond to.  We would take her out for play time and Noah would make her giggle and belly laugh!  She would look right into his brown eyes with her own deeper brown ones and he was taken - smitten with a baby girl!  She tracked his movement, waiting for him to entertain her, and lighting up when he showed up to play.  In the evening during prayer and singing time, while everyone lined the corridor, he would sneak into her room and talk to her if she was fussing and pat her back.  And sometimes we'd take her out and hold her close during singing and help her clap along.  She was Noah's special baby.

Typically referrals are not made until the dossier (the ginormous packet of certified forms and documents) reaches COTP in Haiti, because they don't want to "offer" a child to someone who may not be moving through the process very quickly and potentially leave out another family who is ready.  But in October, only two months into the process, we received an email from Robin, the adoption coordinator.

Kirk and Christina,

I wanted to run something by you. Because you have been in Haiti and have spent some time with a few of the kids, I thought I could let you know the situation and see what you think. Obviously, this is not how we normally do things, but because of the situation I feel its best to give you some time to think and pray about the situation.

You are waiting for a second referral of a little girl. Right now, the only little girl we have available/ready is Rose-Guerda. She is a sweet little girl who is almost 1 years old (November 2nd). However, she is behind developmentally. She does seem a little "off", but no one can really pin-point how or why. It could just be that she was so severely malnourished and taking extra time to catch up. At nearly 5 months old she only weighed 6lbs. I am attaching her medical. Its not fully updated, but you can at least see it up to July of this year. If you have any specific questions, please let me know. I will answer whatever I can.

 

Robin

 

 

Rose Guerda.  Noah's special baby!  The concerns of developmental needs were only momentary as we realized God had picked her for us, and us for her, before we even knew we were thinking of adopting.  God knew.  He knew the brokenness in the world that allowed the kind of despair that grips Haiti.  He knew her mother had struggled to raise her own babies in the belly of poverty with all it's physical, mental, and relational devastation.  He knew she would do anything to give her baby a chance at life when she was near death.  He knew what would be in her mother's heart and mind when she gave up her child.  He knew the hands that would nurse this innocent one back to health, who would visit from across the seas to tickle her belly with laughter, who's hearts would be pricked to love one of these, who would write, who would smile, who would realize the greatness of His plan.  God knew.

 

And we celebrated how once again, our child was no accident, no coincidence, no mistake.  Rose was God's and he was entrusting her to us.

 

 

Rose - healthy and happy
 March 2012

 

 

 

How it All Began (Part IV - He Can Move Mountains)

It is now Fall 2011.  The chaos is not quite so fresh and raw, and while the turmoil in our lives is not over, it is becoming more manageable.  I said to a friend at work, "I don't know if the stress has lessened or if I have just adjusted to my new normal".  Our family has begun to function relatively well in our home school setting after a bumpy start, Noah is still having intermittent rage episodes, but we often deal with them better, adoption paperwork is moving along, and I sometimes keep up with the laundry.  I am doing everything in my power to keep our lives orderly, calm, predictable, and controlled, turning down usual church and social engagements, etc.

Kirk and I were sitting on the couch talking one evening, and he told me, "Chris, I want to move to Haiti".  He had mentioned this before, and in fact, we had talked with Children of the Promise staff and knew we would be a welcomed addition to the team on the ground.  When he would ask what I thought, I mostly tried to placate him with a casual, "okay, I'll think about it," but on this night I could tell from his steady gaze, he was becoming more intent on making this a reality.  He had begun talking this over with friends and family, and finally that night on the couch, I just blurt out, "No!  I don't want to go to Haiti.  I am not saying never, but not now.  Please don't keep bringing it up!"  I didn't really even want to think about it.  I wanted safety.  I wanted security.  I wanted normalcy.  And Haiti represented none of those things to me.

It seems there are moments in marriage where the road splits, where your hearts and dreams are no longer unified.  It's a really uncomfortable place.  Unity seems threatened and you wonder in a scared corner of your heart if this is where divorce starts.  What will it take to remain one. 

Kirk was hurt.  He felt I had been stringing his dream along.  I felt relieved to be from under the pressure of a plan I secretly wanted very little to do with.  And so we were at an impasse.  But we did continue to talk.  We began thinking about other options for our lives, other paths we might take.  And Kirk began to pray.  He prayed God would turn around the hearts of his wife and kids, and that He would plant desire and joy in our hearts for Haiti.  And I prayed that God would heal my family and lead where He wanted us to be.

The time of day I most love is late in the evening when the house is quiet and I have space to myself.  Quite often I spend time checking e-mail, playing games, reading news, and following interesting ideas and stories.  One night in January, I found myself randomly searching for pictures of Haiti, looking for Creole language sites, and researching the flora and fauna of the island.  (Yes, I'm that dorky.)  And in the days to come I began to feel drawn to Haiti.  I started reading books about Haiti, began practicing phrases, following bloggers of other humanitarian missionaries in Haiti, and talking more about Haiti in my day to day.  Slowly I recognized a hunger, a desire for Haiti growing inside of me.  I began to mention "what if" scenarios such as "I wonder if we could build a mosquito net frame out of bamboo for above our bed, if we lived in Haiti?" or "What if we could grow apple trees on the compound if we lived in Haiti?"  (And no you can't.  The U of MN extension office teaches apple trees need dormancy, in case you're curious.)

The idea of home has special significance in my mind.  I feel most grounded with a sense of place that "home" seems to conjure.  Maybe not so unlike many women, my nest is my safe place where I nurture and care for my family.  I like to put everything in it's place and leave it there.  Forever.  I have always had a hard time moving, so even though I love adventure, the idea of not having a place to return to is very unsettling.  But somehow in these days of realization, I started to feel like it would be okay to let go of my house.  I started envisioning what "home" would look like in Haiti, and how I might make that space warm and inviting for my family and guests.

So there it was. I wanted to move. I wanted to be in Haiti and there was a joy and excitement in my heart that was propelling me forward, calling me like home. And I knew it was not myself, but God moving my heart toward the center of His will, knitting my husband's and my will into His greater plan and giving us immense satisfaction in Him.

  I am going to miss apples.  I'm going to feel humbled by my kid's behavior with the whole compound hearing our "business".  I'm going to get sick and hate mosquitoes.  I'm going get tired, and probably crabby at times.  I'm going to want a mug of green tea with my Mom.  I'm going to get scared, and maybe hurt.  I'm going to want to go "home".  But I trust that the God who moved the mountains in  my stubborn and selfish heart will be enough, and will teach me, and hold me, and show me joy, and be my home.

Lord you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.  Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.  Psalm 90 1,2

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust." Psalm 91:1

La Citadel, in Haiti

 

How it All Began (Part III - Roadblocks)

We've been home from Haiti for a few weeks, we've decided to adopt, we've begun to climb the mountain of paperwork required for the dossiers for each of our girls, and frankly, I'm feeling a bit crazy.

I think I'm one of those people who others perceive as fairly put together, and generally I am.  But there are times that is not so.  On the outside I can maintain a cool exterior, but as soon as there are too many categories of things going on in my life, I'm bound to start dropping balls.  Friendships start to suffer, I don't notice important dates coming until they're TOMORROW, and I just want to hole up in my house and attend to the bare minimums, preferably with a good stash of chocolate.  Painful to admit, but true.

By mid-summer there was a lot going on in our household.  We've got the adoption paperwork pressing in, I'm working a couple of days a week, trying to keep the sand-box off my kitchen floor, attending to loads of play-in-the -dirt kinda laundry, AND have decided to take on home-schooling the boys in the fall.  I'm tired just typing that list.

As some of you know, Noah was diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder already in 1st grade.  By the end of 2nd grade there seemed to be some other things going on, and our bright, inquisitive, 8-year-old was hating school.  He began to have some trouble with separation anxiety, was defiant with his teacher on a couple of occasions, and one time ran from school to come home, saying he just wanted to be close to me.  The school was really great at working through this with us and we set some firm boundaries/expectations for Noah's behavior, hoping to make it through the end of the school year!  We began talking about the possibility of home-schooling.  Even seeing this in print now makes me chuckle at the absurdity of it.  And while I had long said, "No way!  Not me!", Noah begged, and I found myself considering it as a possibility.  We had some testing done and began to understand some of what could be of frustration to him, and after talking with many folks, decided to take the plunge.

The summer did not make things better.  Stress is not a friend of anxiety disorders and while there was much to love about our month in Haiti, there were aspects of our time that were stressful; at moments even ugly.  Moments we could only pray for a "do-over", but were stuck with the consequences of our own choices and fallenness.  Moments we could only cry out to God for forgiveness and ask his perfection to wash over our imperfections.

So within the these first few weeks of being home and having made pretty big life and family decisions it was a further strain to notice that Noah was falling apart.  At first it looked like willfulness or disobedience (which was part of the picture), and then one night, there was an awful breaking point.  Noah lost control and I lost control, and Noah went into a rage of frightening proportions.  Kirk and I responded clumsily, and after a few hours of wrestling and praying and crying, it was over. 

The next few weeks and months, were truly rough and for days I found myself on the edge of tears, wondering why it felt like everything was falling apart.  We wrestled with God about why he was allowing this just when we had decided to adopt... was it meant as a sign that we had made a mistake?  Had we misunderstood that stirring in our heart?  Or was this a fire for testing and growing our parenting skills and family bond?  We begged our friends and family for prayer, begged our providers and doctors for answers, begged Noah to stop something that seemed nearly out of his control, begged each other to be better parents, begged God for it to end...  And we cried - cried for the loss of our innocent boy, for the loss of our stable family, for the fear that had entered our home, loss of dignity, and the worry of losing the little girls we had started to love.

We really felt a need to be transparent with our home-study social worker, so during our second visit, sitting in a Country Kitchen booth, we reluctantly laid out some of what we were struggling with.  Without batting an eye, she said, "oh, I totally expect things like this to come up.  Satan loves to try to mess up a God thing.  Can I just pray with you right now?"  We were floored and relieved and readily accepted her prayer, and then continued on with the rest of our interview.

Friends came near and offered shelter for our hearts with meals, offers for care, offers for time away... it meant SO much to be carried through, surrounded by love, and bathed in prayer. 

One day a friend called.  Beth Hoekstra had been home from work, sick, and had seen a program on tv talking about an unusual condition called PANDAS.  I'll talk more about this in another post, but I should say we were amazed to find Noah met almost every symptom.  We had something to hold on to, a reason, a potential cause for all the turmoil.  And slowly things did get better.

At times I've have wondered how I would respond to God in crisis, if I would feel abandoned or angry or hopeless.  I came to a point when holding on to the frayed ends was no longer working.  I had to lay my child, my family, my future before God, relinquish my "right" for control and actually put my trust in the One I have confessed to be my savior.  And in those moments when my solutions and answers no longer measured up, I felt the maker of a million stars regard me.  I'm not saying everything was magically fixed, but I felt a different kind of strength and hope inside, and that's what's carrying me.

How it All Began (Part II - Adoption)

So we've arrived home from Haiti just days before and are still absorbing what this experience has meant to us.  We are remembering people and relationships and one little girl sticks out in my mind.  I'm having "trouble" letting go.

I work in the field of counseling and in recent years have begun some training and work in infant mental health.  So while in Haiti, the field directors, Nick and Nicki, ask if I'd be willing to help assess a couple of kids they have concerns about.  One of them is a little girl who is not behaving like some of the other children.  While most of the toddlers run up to greet guests and beg to be held and attended to, she holds back by her favored Nannie.  She is slow to warm to new folks and doesn't like to go off with just anyone.  So I spent a few hours with her watching her play and interactions, and I continue to watch her and get to know her during the time we're there.  And now I'm home.  And I'm thinking about her.  I'm thinking about Natalie and missing her.  So I casually mention to Kirk, "I can't seem to get Natalie out of my mind.  I wonder if we should try to adopt her?"  And his respond is equally casual, "sure".  Sure? That's it?  We agree to think about it, and over the next couple of days we do, and we talk about it, and "sure" kinda seems to be sticking.

Now I should say, "sure" does have a little history behind it.  From the time we were married, Kirk had always wanted to adopt, and, in fact, questioned whether or not we should birth children naturally at all.  He pointed to the great need of orphans around the world and God's direct call in the Bible to care for them.  I balked at this idea initially.  "I have a womb and I want to use it!!!  But we agreed that we would likely have a couple of children naturally and then see if we wanted to add more to our family through adoption.  Pretty sure God was on Kirk's side with this one, because pregnancy sucked, for me.  Both times.  Nine months of puking and misery was enough to convince me I didn't need to go through that again!  I'd experienced it.  Done the "womb" thing, twice, and felt no need to return.  Besides, two kids were so manageable.  One of them for each of us and no extras to out-number us.  Simple.  So 5 years passed after having Elijah, and I felt pretty content with our family size.  Except for every once in awhile, when  I would see larger families that seemed attractive to me.  Having a big family around for holidays and as I grew older, having a house full of noisy happy children ... having a daughter to be close to.  Was I missing something... was there more I could offer to a child to have a home to grow up in?

So the 4th of July week-end, Kirk and I were sitting in the family room. I can still see the whole picture in my mind.  I was at the computer, he was sitting in an arm chair, and we decided we would contact Robin Knight, the adoption coordinator for COTP, and at least talk about it with her -- maybe some time next week.

Kirk received a text.  It was his life-long buddy, Mitch, asking,

"Do you guys know of a place in Haiti called Children of the Promise, started by Bud and Jan Bonnema from Prinsburg".

 "Yeah", Kirk responded.  "Funny thing, we just got back from spending a month there a few days ago."

Mitch texts, "hey cool, then maybe you might know something about this baby.  Kara found her on a website and is completely in love.  Think we might pursue adopting her.  In fact, Kara has already contacted Robin to inquire about her."

Kirk says, "oh yeah, who?"

Mitch: "Natalie".

Gulp.

Kirk: "We need to talk.  I'm calling you now."

Right there the conversation got a little awkward.  What were the chances of this happening?  Life long friends, both interested in adoption, both come upon a child.  This child.  Natalie.  Kirk asked me to get on the phone, too, and told Mitch we were thinking of pursuing her adoption, as well.  Kirk and I looked at each other.  A few moments ago, she was really just a thought, and suddenly that thought has become the thought of losing her, and caring, and not wanting to lose her.  The conversation was a little strange and rather short.  Kirk and Mitch agreed that we should both pray about this and talk again in a few days.

Those few days were long.  We did talk to Robin and told her what was going on.  So many thoughts and questions went through my mind.  I wanted her, but what was best for Natalie?  Maybe they could be a better family for her?  Maybe they could provide better for her?  Was I really ready to jump into adoption?  But in my heart I was already feeling she was mine, and I didn't want to lose her. 

We decided to tell Mitch and Kara we really did want to pursue her adoption, but that if they did, too, we wouldn't stop them.  We believed either of us would be a good family for her, and what was most important was that this precious little girl had a home of her own with parents and siblings to wrap her in love.

And then Mitch and Kara told us they wanted us to go forward with trying to adopt her.  They had an experience previously that persuaded them that they never wanted to be the ones "taking" an adoption from someone else, and were graciously backing down.

What had been almost a passing thought, became a casual plan, became a fire burning.  We were pursuing her.  We wanted her.  She was ours.

So just a few added notes to this part of the story:  Once we decided to adopt Natalie, Kirk thought we should go ahead and adopt two at the same time.  If our family was to be part Haitian, then having two Haitian children would be good for them and good for us.  So we added a second request, and months later learned we were being matched with Rose (Guerda).  Awesome thing was, she was Noah's favorite baby while we were at COTP.  God was setting all this up before it was even a thought on our part.

And, while Mitch and Kara didn't pursue Natalie's adoption, they are now in process of adoptiong two other beautiful kids from COTP, so God used our connection to bring two more precious little ones into forever families.  Marvelous!

Here is Kara's blog post about the experience from their side...
http://thisblessedlife-km.blogspot.com/2011_07_01_archive.html

And here are pics of our beautiful girls!

Me with Natalie at COTP.

Rose (1)

Natalie (3)