Relinquishment

Are there ever times in your life where you seem to come head to head with the SAME issue over and over again? Lately I've been wrestling with the issue of relinquishment....and in case you are wondering, that is a pretty way of saying control. Doesn't that sound nice? "I am really having a hard time relinquishing my circumstances to God." So much better than the ugly truth, which really is: "Actually I don't trust that God knows what He is doing in my life so I have decided to take as much control as I can over my circumstances, just to be safe." Not real cute now, is it? Now that we have that out on the table, it's time to play a little catch up on my lack of blogging for the past 6 months. :)

As I'm sure many of you know, we had the honor of adopting a precious little 4-year-old girl in December. I could blog numerous posts on the subject of Ellie's adoption, but the basics for now are: A. We love her dearly. B. Our biological kids love her and think of her as their biological sister. C. We are thrilled to be called Mommy and Daddy every day by this sweet gift from God. D. Having Ellie in our home has challenged us and stretched us in many, many ways. We have faced numerous circumstances and situations with her that have required absolute flat-on-our-faces desperation for wisdom that can only come from God Himself. We have had to throw out our agenda and plan to "fix" the brokenness. We have had to ultimately rely on God and trust that He knows what is best for Ellie. And believe me when I say we are praying for Him to reveal that plan to us, that we may be instruments of healing to her broken spirit. Relinquishment.

Within 12 hours of Ellie's adoption, Baby "M" who had been with us for the last 10 months returned home to his Mama. Although we felt good about where he was going, it was still difficult to see him leave. We decided not to take in any foster children through the holiday season, and it was a nice time to really bond as an "official" family of 5. We were blessed to spend Christmas in Sunriver, Oregon with my parents, sister, her husband, and little boy. :) The cousins had a great time making a ginerbread house, decorating the tree, playing games, watching movies, doing puzzles, and just spending time together. Christmas 2011 was a special one for us, marked by wonderful memories and a new beginning.

After the 1st of the year, we agreed to let DSHS know we were open to new placements. Our specific request was for a baby, or a sibling group that included a baby...and of course, we would love to have a child (or children) with adoption potential. After waiting for all of January and February with NO phone calls, I began to grow impatient. As much as I firmly believe that God hand picks each child that enters our home, even if for a day, my heart ached for the precious little one(s) that had yet to join us. I tried to envision who those kids were, where they were, how old they were, what their living situation currently looked like.....etc, etc, etc. See, I'm one of those people who wants to know how it is all going to work out in the end. I want to see the big picture. The end result. I want to know if I am going to be celebrating an adoption, or crying myself to sleep because that child returns home. But here's the deal! Knowing how it is "all going to work out in the end" doesn't give us the opportunity to trust God through the process! It doesn't require faith. It doesn't require relinquishment. It doesn't require submitting to HIS will for my life. And let's be real here: MY plan for my life has taken me nowhere fast. Down a slippery slope, into the pit of despair, finally realizing for the umpteenth time that my idea was not, in fact, a good idea.

I surrender.

March 2nd: we received a phone call from a social worker in Seattle asking if we were willing to take a precious newborn girl "temporarily" (most overused and delusive word by every social worker from DSHS, btw) while they looked for a placement closer to her home. "Um, OF COURSE!" SO, Monday morning we drove to Seattle to pick up this precious little bundle from the hospital and I was instantly in love. Like head-over-heels, completely smitten, unable to talk because I was so choked up-in love. I felt like I was seeing my own baby for the first time. This, my friends, is what I call THE DANGER ZONE. Falling in love with a baby that is not your own flesh and blood brings a plethora of risks. The risk of losing her in the end, the risk of losing her somewhere along the way, the risk of losing her at the beginning, the risk of becoming so jaded that we decide not to take in other children.

After having this little bundle of sweetness here for 2 weeks now, we have learned her story and some information that has caused us to take a step back and truly examine our hearts. Here is the deal: this baby girl will never be available for adoption. Never. Not now, not in 5 years, not in 15 years. I can't give the details so I will just have to call it "special circumstances." Most children that come through DSHS are required by law to have a permanent plan within one year of placement. That plan can be either adoption or return home, but that plan must be implemented within the first year to 18 months at the most from the time that child enters foster care. Unfortunately for us, the law says that this baby girl will never have a plan that is truly permanent. I guess that irrevocable is probably a better word than permanent. But if we are going to keep her in our home, we have to relinquish the hope that she will ever bear our last name...that she will ever be officially adopted through the court system...that we will ever have the security of knowing that she can never be taken from us. We have to surrender to the fact that God has numbered her days in our family, whether that be 15 days or the rest of her life. I'm going to let you in on a little secret: this is not a place I want to be. I WANT the security. I WANT the permanency. I WANT to know that 10 years from now when we are minding our own business and just living our lives with her that some random relative can't just show up out of the woodwork and decide they want her, taking her from our arms without the opportunity to ever see her again.

But that is not going to happen. Unfortunately, because of "special" circumstances, we will never be given that assurance.

God has asked us to commit to her for as long as we have the privilege of keeping her, and this is not a stretch for me. I love this package of cuteness as much as I loved Caleb and Caitlyn at her age. I love how her little legs stay curled up when I pick her up and put her on my shoulder. I love the little grunts and noises she makes when she is lying in her bassinet next to my side of the bed. I love when her binky falls out and her tiny little lips keep on sucking like the binky is still there. :) I love watching the 3 big kids argue over "who gets to feed her next" or "who gets to give Mommy the diaper and wipes." I know now, more than ever, that I was made to love babies. :) And it is not a difficult job to have.

What becomes difficult is the thought of investing my whole heart into her, only to have my heart ripped out of my chest if she leaves.

I hope you are reading that the ONLY common denominator in the risks and wants that I have listed, is the word "I." That one little letter that turns every statement into one of selfishness and introspection.

If I FULLY believe that God is in control, that He hand picks the children that enter our home and numbers their days, then WHAT DO I HAVE TO FEAR? What do I have to lose? Is this journey about ME? About the risk to MY heart? About ME loving and losing? I wager that it is not.

After hours of soul-searching these last 2 weeks, I have had several of those "Aha!" moments. I put a notepad by my bed to write down some of my revelations that have come at all hours of the night. This was the first thing I wrote last week: I cannot overcome fear without being faced with circumstances that cause me to address it.

Bingo. I think I still have a little work to do in the fear category.

I also started to question taking baby "A" in the first place. I muttered a prayer under my breath and said, "God, if I had known from the beginning that we would never have the chance to adopt her, and that she had these 'special circumstances,' I don't think I would have said yes." And as clear as day I sensed His response: "I gave you the information you needed at that time to make a decision." Whoah. Um, ok. He knew we wouldn't find out about her special circumstances until after we fell in love with her.

Relinquishment.

So here I sit. It is 10:15 pm and it has taken me 3 hours to write this blog post. I have debated over how much to say, and how much to hold back. I have struggled to really, really believe that God is protecting all of us and that His plan is better than mine. I want to take baby girl and run away to some deserted island and live our lives happily ever after. But that is not going to happen.

I am going to tell you what IS going to happen though.

I AM choosing to believe that it is worth it. I AM choosing to pour my whole heart into baby girl without the promise of anything in return. I AM choosing to believe that this is not about me; my heart, my will, my plan. We did not start this journey of taking children into our home to get something out of it, and we are not going to end it by making it about us now. I am going to trust God for every beating heart that is sleeping under the Rose family roof tonight.

I have no control over how long baby girl will be with us. I have no control over how long Caleb, Caitlyn, or Elliana will be with us. Each day with each child is a gift. We are to cherish every moment we have with them...not to live in fear that today could be their last day, but to ultimately look up to God and say, "I surrender!" Our children are HIS children. And if I ultimately take myself out of the equation, I have nothing to lose. Nothing to risk and everything to gain.

One final quote I saw online somewhere: I am not saying it is going to be easy, but I am saying it is going to be worth it.

Amen.

Poopoo Man

I was looking through photos from last summer and stumbled across this one. After laughing hysterically to myself, I decided I might as well post it for y'all to get a good laugh too. :) Last July our kids participated in a day camp at Westwood Baptist Church in Olympia called Summer Hummer. It was A-MAZING! Micah and I were camp counselors to a group of 9 very active 3rd and 4th grade boys who kept us on our toes from 8:00 every morning until about 4:30 every afternoon. We had the privilege of having a little boy from China in our group who spoke very little English. He was very shy, hesitant to participate in the activities, and kind of just kept to himself. WELL, after 5 days of being around the other crazy boys, I can tell you this: There is a universal language among 9 year olds! And that, my friends, is bathroom humor. On Friday afternoon, after remaining quiet ALL WEEK, I witnessed our little Chinese friend, with all of the other boys standing around him, soaking up every ounce of attention they were giving him and this journal he had been carrying around all week. After the boys ran off to participate in an activity, I inconspicuously tiptoed over to the open journal on the ground, and THIS is what I found: Friends, meet "Poopoo Man."