Heirs with Christ

Montgomery Adoption Playgroup

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Thu, 31 May 2012 12:26:00 +0000

Montgomery has a fantastic adoption community. It has grown by leaps and bounds since 2008, when we began the adoption process. I felt an instant bond with so many of these women, most of whom I've spent little time with but am willing to share my whole heart with. Our common faith, lives, and passions create fast, deep friendships... friendships I truly believe will last even as I travel to a new city.

I may be wrong, but Mobile doesn't appear to have an active adoption community. I'm sure people adopt, just like any city. But getting these family's to gather in Jesus' name and serve the foster system, adoptions of all kinds, birth mothers, etc? That is an exciting challenge I'd love to take part in.

For those of you still in Montgomery... please take part in the amazing adoption community here! Play groups are a great place to get started. On Facebook, join "Montgomery Area Adoption and Foster Families." They meet every third Thursday for a fun time.

Tell them Rachel sent you. And send my love.

Waiting Wednesdays

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Wed, 30 May 2012 11:14:00 +0000

For those of you who are waiting...

" 'Stand still' - keep the posture of an upright man, ready for action, expecting further orders, cheerfully and patiently awaiting the directing voice; and it will not be long ere God shall say to you, as distinctly as Moses said it to the people of Israel, 'Go forward.' " - Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Moving on Monday

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Tue, 29 May 2012 11:56:00 +0000

If there is a Guinness record for the world's longest move, our transition from Montgomery to Mobile might rank.

Yep, we're still in the PROCESS of moving. Not moved yet.

I usually hate change, but the dots after our "to be continued" have stretched too far, and I'm over this land of limbo. I'm ready to live in ONE city, call ONE place home, and settle into the new life God has for us. (Although, don't get me wrong, I've love hotel beds and an excuse to not cook.)

So, here are our plans:

On Sunday, we'll be out of our Montgomery house.
On Monday, we'll move into our Mobile house.
In the meantime, I find packing boxes extremely therapeutic.
Packing makes me feel useful while avoiding house cleaning.
I hate to clean.
But I am no longer gainfully employed.
So I should probably at least up my cleaning skills.
And my cooking.
(Do I have to?)
I probably have to.
I'm scared of what cobwebs the movers will find under our furniture.
I avoid things that I'm scared of.
So I'll pack another box.

Are any of you out there really bummed you don't have enough baseboards to scrub?

I'll share mine; you're welcome to scrub them any time this week.

No takers?

Humor, Hair, and Bonding with Your Adopted Child

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Mon, 28 May 2012 12:48:00 +0000

All of my talk about Amelia's hair has me thinking about attachment. Because in case you didn't know, there are two major concerns for every white family adopting a black child... Attachment, and hair. :)

Yep, those are the biggies consuming our pre-adoption thoughts.

Racial harmony, self-esteem, and social issues?

Secondary to the hair.

Okay, I kid, I kid. Sort of.

In Amelia's case, hair and attachment were integrally linked. In the early days after she came into our family, Amelia would shriek in ear-splitting agony as I fumbled for hours with her hair. We'd both be crying before her hair was detangled. Sometimes Caroline would join in the tears.

Thank God Amelia's preschool teacher stepped in to allow us a year of bonding and hair care learning while she styled my baby's locks. Trust is hard to earn while yanking a child's tangles.

Fourteen months later, hair care isn't so traumatic. Sure, Amelia has come a long way. She's less anxious, less volatile, and more trusting. But I've come a long way, too.

See, one of the essential ingredients to proper attachment is a parent's sense of humor. Humor is what I lacked in the early days when Amelia was newly ours.

Her world had been turned upside down, and she was determined to tantrum over it. Often. Go for it, baby girl. You have a right. Change is hard, and you've been dealt a heaping serving. Scream, if it makes you feel better.

Amelia would stub her toe and fall into hysterics. She'd see a picture of her prior orphanage worker and slap me. She'd want food and convulse on the floor rather than ask for it.

I overflowed in compassion over Amelia's pain. Compassion is good, right? You can't have too much compassion, can you?

Wrong. When it comes to parenting a new-to-you child from across the world, compassion, unchecked by humor, can cause great grief.

Back then, when Amelia would fall apart, my compassion-softened heart would crumble to the floor. Neither of us could hold it together. We were two distinct puddles of tears, each unable to accomplish a thing. I couldn't see any humor in the situation.

Today, life is different. Smoother. We're more resilient.

These days, we laugh a lot. Sure, Amelia freaks out much less. But when she does, we don't attribute it to her being adopted and say "bless her poor once-orphaned soul!" Humans are all crazy; it's not a unique condition for Amelia. We might as well laugh at the lunacy. Today we're more likely to watch Amelia's tantrum in amusement as I pat Brad on the shoulder and console him for having a house full of dramatic women. Chances are, I was also recently "tantruming" (in a different form) only hours before.

And because Amelia's insanity is no longer fueled by my own wild response, she generally decides the energy isn't worth it, gives up the screaming, and calmly climbs into someone's lap.

It's not like I never worry about how we're bonding, or never think adoption affects us. Many nights, Amelia begs her way out of my arms because she prefers Daddy put her to bed. I, of course, think this is clearly a diagnosable attachment issue. What two year old doesn't prefer her mother? Brad winks and says it's a matter of Amelia having good tastes. She's simply a daddy's girl.

He could be right.

Please don't mistake what I'm saying here. There is an entire spectrum of attachment disorders that can be debilitating and severe. In many cases, the solution is not a simple need to laugh more often. It would be cruel to stop naming true disorders, making them difficult to identify and treat.

But for those of us who've had great adoption bonding with normal bumps in the road, I do think laughter can be the best medicine. Lighten up. Tantrums can be as endearing as they are annoying, if you put the right spin on them. Marvel at the humor of your child's fist-sized snot balls; and then take the opportunity to grab a tissue before Junior buries his slimy nose into your shoulder. The dry-cleaner will thank you.

The Afro: Washing and Styling for Loose Curls

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Sat, 26 May 2012 13:33:00 +0000

With all of the major life changes we're undertaking -- moving from one city to another, from suburbia to a midtown area, from working mom to stay at home, from five day school to homeschool -- one major one I've failed to mention is that I am now in charge of Amelia's hair.

I've been so spoiled. Amelia's saint of a preschool teacher (who is also armed with a beauty license) kept our girls' hair properly combed, styled, and moisturized.

Moisturized, moisturized, moisturized.

I have some learning to do. Look how dry my baby's hair was yesterday, just one week since Amelia last had the help of her angel teacher:

The hair along her hairline threatened to roll into parched balls.

Amelia's been home with a head FULL of long hair for over a year, yet I've fixed it myself less than twenty times. It's time for me to learn my baby's hair.

You can watch as I fall all over myself learning.

Feel free to offer some advice.

The first thing I do when taking out Amelia's old 'do is this:

I carefully run scissors underneath each hair rubber band and snip it, careful not to cut hair. Cutting the bands off avoids breakage.

Then, section by section, I detangle her hair using only my fingers. Sometimes I add moisturizer to help detangle as I go, but this time, I didn't have to.

You can see white hair product buildup in her hair in the picture above, higher than where I am finger detangling. This needs to be washed out!

See the white film that had been hiding inside of her braids?

Time for a bath!

Wet...

...and shampoo! (Those tears are ironic. I used tear-free shampoo! I guess tears caused by your big sister can't be avoided by shampoo choice.)

I don't shampoo Amelia's hair often. I usually conditioner-wash. When I do shampoo, it's because she swam, or got into a mess, or has severe product build up.

I use the same kids' tear-free shampoo that I use on Caroline's silky hair.

But at Target, I saw a tear free organic shampoo made by a brand called Mixed Chicks. Anyone know if this is worth trying? Should I buy it? It was maybe $12 for a small-medium sized bottle.

When I shampoo Amelia's hair, I don't scrub in the wild way I scrub mine or Caroline's. Detangling Amelia's hair is hard work, and she got into the bath fairly detangled. Crazy shampooing might tangle it. So a do a lot of squishing and gentle rubbing to get a lather.

This conditioner smells amazing. I bought it for Amelia, but I also use it on Caroline's soft silky curls. It's incredible stuff that it can multitask between their very different hair.

I used the amount shown twice, rinsing much better the first time. The second time, I purposely left most of it in her hair. (I'd never leave it in Caroline's!)

Next, I (somewhat) brush Amelia's wet, conditioned hair with the OH-SO-AMAZING Tangle Teezer brush. It's the most life-changing invention of my lifetime.

You must have one. Must, must, must.

I was nervous to use this styling cream in case it left not-so-organic loads of buildup in Amelia's hair. I'd never used it before. So I applied it lightly while she was still in the tub, then poured on cup of water over her hair to dilute it some.

It's the chicken-out way.

All clean!

I do not towel-dry Amelia's hair. The fuzz from the towels sticks to her curls.

Instead, she laughs as she shakes her head wildly.

(Yes, like Fido. Sue me. It works.)

And her hair then looks like this:

In need of some help, but precious anyway!

So I add some styling product.

I loved this Curling Souffle. It's like runny hair gel in a tub. I just rub it through my hands and then scrunch it on Amelia's hair to help define her part and shape any wild areas.

The container says that the wetter the hair is that you apply it to, the wilder the curls. Applying it to barely damp hair creates curls more loose.

Amelia just isn't going to have loose curls, so I add it early and get the job finished.

Before I know it, I have a rock star.

How precious is the finished product!?

Tips for upkeep.

(I'll keep her hair loose for several days.)

Use a sleep cap to avoid crazy fuzz and things finding their way into the curls. (Or, errr... pantyhose on the head!)
Spray in moisture after every nap/bedtime, and any other time the hair starts feeling dry. Much more moisture is needed on loose hair.

The Kinky Curly Spiral Spritz is great for second day curls. Spray it into your hands first. It's somewhat thick and will shoot out in a straight line. Rub it into your hands, then scrunch onto the curls.

Cheap and simple olive oil spray is a must have. I use this on loose or braided/styled hair, ideally at least once a day.

(Notice that I said ideally. Meaning it doesn't happen at my house.)

This Cantu pomade is great for smoothing fly-aways into braided or fixed styles, but it also helps smooth down parts of loose hair. For example, I may use some of this to tuck the front of Amelia's afro into clips or behind her ears.

Okay, so how did I do?

I'm sure some of you are laughing at all I did wrong. Please, give me your tips and tricks!

Friday Flashbacks: Sin & Adoption

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Fri, 25 May 2012 12:56:00 +0000

Posted January 25, 2010, after the birth of a much prayed-for baby, which left me feeling emotionally schizophrenic. Little did I know then how joyously Amelia's life would be celebrated.
_________________

I was unprepared for the range of emotions that hit me Friday night.

First was utter awe and joy. I wanted to cry because I was staring at the perfect little face of my friends' newborn girl. After a long battle with infertility and learning to lean on God like many of us may never understand, they held their prize -- a precious infant whom I instantly recognized because she bears the image of them both so beautifully.

Not only did I see their own victory wrapped up in that soft pink blanket. I saw the victory of others whom I love who are waiting on their own happy ending to infertility. Some will end in the delivery room, staring into baby faces resembling their own. Some will end in court rooms, where finalized adoptions cause family trees to become diverse like Heaven itself.

But when sadness washed over me, I was confused. I left the hospital disheartened. I had no idea why. What could bring me down in the midst of such a fairy-tale ending? As I talked to my mom and husband later, I was surprised by the words that spilled from my mouth.

I mourn that our baby will be (or has been) born with no celebration. Fear, or shame, or poverty, or death... something negative surrounds the circumstances of our sweet child's entry into this world. There is something sad about adoption.

Don't get me wrong -- adoption may be the most incredible thing I have ever experienced thus far. God anointed it. It is His holy plan. But it is also the result of a fallen world. If we had never sinned -- if we had never orphaned ourselves from God's perfect love -- then there never would've been the costly price paid on the cross for our adoption as sons.

It is sin, also, that caused our world to fall apart. Famine, disease, poverty -- these all come from the sickness of original sin. And they orphan children. And while adopting orphaned children is the glorious redemption from these things, I couldn't help but be saddened on Friday by the sorrow making our sweet baby available to us.

Please don't hear me say adoption is inferior to pregnancy because adoption results from our brokenness. This is not true. Genesis says that the pains of childbirth, too, are a result of the curse of sin. Everything is affected.

God redeemed the pains of childbirth by sending us our Savior Jesus through Mary's labor pains.

God redeems the sting of being orphaned through Jesus' death on the cross, paying the fees for us to be adopted as His children.

Sin tainted it all, and God beautifully redeemed it all.

I guess I don't know what I'm trying to say. All I know is that God is in control, and He makes all things beautiful in their time.

If I Could Say One Thing

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Thu, 24 May 2012 12:19:00 +0000

I'm dumb. I've been worried about silly stuff lately... First impressions, moving boxes, finishing books and getting a tan. Not exactly life and death stuff.

And on my blog, I've struggled for content. For heaven's sake, I blogged about a four ingredient sandwich, and I didn't even like yesterday's Waiting Wednesday quote! (nor do I know who the guy is who said it, or where I found it.)

I'm so consumed with our life changes that I'm functioning like a lobotomy patient. I stare at my blog and can't think of ONE THING to say.

Until now.

Now, I remember why I started this blog.

I started it to tell the One Thing that matters. Jesus. That He died, then lived to save us from pitiable lives where our greatest concerns are tans and moving boxes.

He adopted us into a family filled with
adventure,
freedom,
and the most wonderful ability to both love others and simultaneously not care in the least what they think of us.

We're hidden in Him; what does it matter what they think of us?

No, I don't have much to say.
Except this:
Living for Jesus is the only true satisfaction you'll ever find.

I know, it's hard to believe that an invisible God can satisfy us when so many tangible temptations float before our eyes. We all get distracted. Lately, I have been beyond distracted.

But when I'm distracted from Him, life suddenly becomes pointless.
And life is too short to live without a point.
It's too short to live with a lesser point.
I want to live ONLY for the Creator and Savior.
I don't want to waste my life.
I don't want to waste our move to Mobile.
I don't want to waste even this hour.
How about your?

Waiting Wednesdays

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Wed, 23 May 2012 11:11:00 +0000

For those of you who wait...

"It takes two wings for an eagle to fly. If an eagle were to try to fly with just one wing he would only spin around in circles on the ground. The same is true with many people who are trying to soar spiritually on their faith, but have not added patience. These just keep going around in circles, getting more and more frustrated and kicking up a lot of dust. Any truth that we teach without this counter balancing truth will lead us to frustration, not fulfilment." - Rick Joyner, MorningStar Ministries

303 Calorie Lunch

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Tue, 22 May 2012 12:35:00 +0000

My real-life friends just groaned and are yelling at the computer screen, "Don't try to make this a food blog! You don't even cook!"

True, true. The latest family meal I cooked involved removing a frozen dish from cardboard and placing it in the oven.

But...

There is one easy, tasty, 303 calorie lunch that I love to make for myself:

Chicken, Tomato, and Avocado Sandwich.

I use one small tomato and half of an avocado. I photographed both halves only because they're so stinking pretty.

Arnold makes super thin sliced bread. I love it. Two slices are about the size (and calories) of one typical slice of sandwich bread.

The avocado is so creamy and decadent, I don't feel the need to use cheese or condiments.

Plus, let's face it, I'm attempting to make a low calorie meal. Mayo and cheese don't help the cause.

Add six slices of Oscar Mayer Roasted Sliced Chicken Breast, and you're done.

If I weren't in a hotel room stealing my girls' Cheerios, I'd make it right now.

Mmmmm.

The Girls' First Sunday in Mobile

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Mon, 21 May 2012 13:09:00 +0000

Another Sunday in Mobile.

Another wave of gratitude for the warm welcome we're receiving.

Dozens of people must be praying for our girls' transition. After arriving in town on Saturday, we dropped our unsuspecting daughters with a babysitter while we attended a street party. I wanted to dance for the first hour of the party simply because of how well the girls handled our leaving. Amelia didn't shed a single tear; she even smiled and cheered goodbye. Caroline was stuffing her face with green beans -- GREEN BEANS instead of fried chicken and macaroni -- as we shut the door behind us. Miracles do happen.

(Mobile street parties, by the way, manage to be simultaneously casual and dreamy, as if someone sprinkled fairy dust on the neighborhood at twilight.)

Saturday night set the tone for the rest of the weekend. Caroline and Amelia each courageously entered new Sunday school classes, receptions, lunches, and nighttime childcare. Several people mentioned how sorry they felt for Amelia as she cried a few times. But for our sensitive Amelia, a simple cry without crumpling to the floor in shrieks reveals immense fortitude.

As for me, I've felt ministered to here already. Although I knew months ago that God was calling us here, I let logistics and packing and first outfits and first impressions pull my eyes briefly off of the Reason we're here. The people here lovingly pointed me back to Him already, without even knowing it.

The only problem? It's exhausting being new. I miss my friends in Montgomery. But, we'll be back Tuesday!

How to Survive a Road Trip with Preschoolers

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Sat, 19 May 2012 12:19:00 +0000

Today, we're headed to Mobile for our girls' first overnight stay in their new town. Four days and three nights of important first impressions: the girls' first impression of Mobile, and the church's first impression of our girls.

They are two and four.

On a road trip.

Sleeping in a hotel.

Off of any semblance of schedule.

Attending new church childcare.

Being approached by endless unfamiliar faces.

Any parents out there feel me? It's more the recipe for tantrums, breakdowns, and parental embarrassment... not cordial first meetings.

But have no fear, I am equipped!

How to Survive a Road Trip with Preschoolers

(What to Pack)

I love the Target dollar bins. I found two miniature clip boards and similar sized flower paper for coloring in the car, as well as stickers. (Truth be told, I am okay with my girls whining in boredom on our car ride to Mobile. As long as no one is around to judge us. Coloring supplies are more likely to make their debut during our Sunday afternoon lunch with the Staff-Parish Relations committee. Important lunches seem to always fall during nap time.)

Speaking of coloring, have you used Crayola's Color Wonder paper and markers? They bypass two major travel pitfalls:

Crayons melting in a hot car
Marks on clothes

They ink shows up clear unless it is on special Color Wonder paper. Genius.

My girls drink NONSTOP. They typically drink milk. During a Christmas road trip, we lost track of which sippy cup had the freshest milk. We found ourselves at a gas station cleaning up vomit and bathing Amelia in the sink. No more milk on road trips.

Juice boxes are great because they're relatively clear, (think no stains,) and don't need refrigeration, which we may not have in the hotel. l I also grabbed a couple of cheap Disney cups so they girls would be pumped to drink water at the hotel.

Like I said, the girls won't know these items exist until the moment they use them. Novelty will keep them happy.

Food purists, hide your eyes. Few of the foods above are organic.

All of the items pictured share three common denominators: my girls love them, they stay fresh at room temperature in a hotel, and they won't stain clothes. Hungry children are cranky children, so I am coming prepared.

I will probably keep the almonds and raisins visible in the hotel room. If my girls are hungry, they can ask for these healthier options first. They will not know that I've also packed sandwich baggies full of Cheerios, Goldfish, and gummy bears until the situation is desperate and they're in those pudgy, precious hands.

Sure, Easy Mac isn't healthy, but the peaches! Look at the peaches! It balances things out, right?

Once again, my girls won't know the Easy Mac exists unless we become desperate for them to have hot, filling food and STAT! (As if I don't feed it to them all of the time, *cough, cough*.)

Unlike my other choices, peaches and Easy Mac can get clothes dirty. You can't win it all. Bananas might be another good option.

For when clothes and kids do get dirty, antibacterial wipes and Shout wipes.

Okay, I won't get more ready than this...

Load the car. :)

And wish us luck for our first family weekend in our new town and at our new church!

Friday Flashbacks: Family Tree

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Fri, 18 May 2012 12:33:00 +0000

Originally posted on January 21, 2010, after it struck me that by adopting one child, the effects might ripple down to a heritage of grandchildren with vastly diverse ethnicities. A beautiful realization.
____________

via Grounded Design

During the last home study interview, our social worker asked us a thrilling question. Her battery of questions were meant to ensure we understand the full implications and uncertainties of international adoption.

This part of the interview was robotic.
YES, we realize there are risks in international adoption.
YES we know you can’t guarantee the health record of our child.
YES this,
YES that…

Then she asked a question that NO, I had never thought about.

“Do you realize that the effect of adopting transracially will change the racial makeup of your family for generations to come?”

What?

For generations to come?

The realization hit me like glorious light. Of course this adoption would change the racial makeup of our family. But I had never grasped that its impact would be as far reaching as the limbs on our family tree. Our children will (God-willing) see diversity as beautiful. Our children’s spouses, our grandchildren, and generations from here on out will possibly be from multiple ethnicities. When God promised that every nation, tribe, and tongue would be blessed through Christ, it never occurred to me that that promise could be partially fulfilled within our OWN little family. It literally brings tears to my eyes just thinking about how God keeps his promises in such loving and PERSONAL ways. Oh, He is sweet.

So while the rest of the world fights the aging process, I now have one reason to look forward to my future wrinkles and bent back… My hair may someday lose its color, but I will be witnessing just how COLORFUL our family will be becoming. It will be so beautiful!

My Brain-Sludge Blog

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Thu, 17 May 2012 13:42:00 +0000

I've never understood writer's block... until now. Hand me a pen or a typewriter most days, and my word count launches past the sound barrier, for better or for worse.

I'm learning writer's block isn't a lack of words; it's more like a bloody pile of amputated sentences and ideas, and a surgeon overwhelmed with the task of mending the parts into an intelligible whole.

I'm not a good surgeon this week. I cannot make sense of the pieces floating in the thick sludge of my brain. I process change slowly. And everything is changing. I quit work, the girls' formal school career is ending in time to soon test-drive homeschool, we're changing cities, Brad changed jobs, some details we thought were set (like where we'll live in Mobile,) suddenly seem uncertain again...

It's all good stuff. No hardship around here.
Just a lot of brain-sludge.

It looks like we'll remain in transition for several more weeks. Half-living in two cities is bizarre. So forgive my brain-sludge blog. Heirs with Christ may be a sorry corner of the web until this transitional phase of life is over! :)

Waiting Wednesdays

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Wed, 16 May 2012 11:09:00 +0000

For those of you who wait...

"Cast not away your confidence because God defers his performances. That which does not come in your time, will be hastened in his time, which is always the more convenient season. God will work when he pleases, how he pleases, and by what means he pleases. He is not bound to keep our time, but he will perform his word, honour our faith, and reward them that diligently seek him." - Matthew Henry

Learning Mobile

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Tue, 15 May 2012 20:07:00 +0000

saying goodbye to (part of) our Montgomery small group

We are living in limbo. During the weeks, we're finishing life in Montgomery: dance recitals, soccer games, school parties, visiting friends. But on the weekends, we're learning what it means to be "Mobilian." Brad's first weekend as a preacher at Dauphin Way in Mobile was a few days ago.

May I brag on my husband? He was made for this job.

May I brag on our new city? I think I like what being "Mobilian" entails.

Brad and I crossed the bridge into Mobile late Friday night. The girls stayed behind with their grandparents. Maybe the luxury of a hotel weekend without children swayed me, but I felt so welcomed. Our new landlords invited us to a block party, church members offered to bring meals when we moved in, and even the live oaks stretched their gnarled arms towards us congenially.

I don't think it will take long to fall in love with this place.

Our new house is at the end of this street.
I swoon at that canopy of trees!

Adjusting: It Gets Easier

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Mon, 14 May 2012 12:01:00 +0000

Amelia + Margaret in
Uganda, December 2010

Adoption attachment doesn't go smoothly for everyone.

Our family had a best-case scenario with Amelia.

She'd been well loved at her baby home.
She'd learned to attach to Mama Sarah, which made her able to attach to me.
She was only ten months old.
She has a pleasant, easy-to-love personality.
She and Caroline immediately bonded.
I was in MISERY until she was finally home, so any difficulties in adjusting were overshadowed by the joy of wrapping my arms around Amelia.

I could go on and on about what went RIGHT for us. I think I forget that the first weeks home were actually very hard. I was in denial about how hard those days were when I was living them. Adding a child to the family, biological or adopted, is always hard. If you are in the hard days, this post is for you. It gets better.

On the eve of Ash Wednesday this year, I received a precious email from another mother from Amelia's class. I cried as I read it, remembering how frazzled our family had been the prior Ash Wednesday as we adjusted to life together. We were all a wreck. Gratitude blinded us to the thinness of the thread from which our sanity hung.

our first week as a family of 4

I'd forgotten those days. We have come so far. If you're struggling, hang in there. Adding a child to the family (biological or adopted) makes everything change. Breathe. Adjust. Seek help. Talk to others who have been there. And be encouraged. It can get better.

The email:

"As I am sitting here tonight thinking about Ash Wednesday tomorrow, I remembered it was last Ash Wednesday that I got to meet Amelia for the first time…sweet, scared, full of tears Amelia. Caroline was in tears because she had gotten shots that day. Miss Linda was having to do Amelia's hair.

"These days, I go in to pick [my daughter] up [...] early when I can. Amelia is always full of smiles, and always comes up to hug my leg. She also hugs [my daughter]. [My daughter] talks about playing with her each day from school. I am moved to tears when I think about how far she has come. Both of you have done a wonderful job over this past year, and I am in awe of you. I feel so fortunate to have been able to see if all happen, and I am so happy [my daughter] and Amelia are little friends. The first thing out of [my daughter's] mouth today after school was, 'I play Melia…Melia pretty.'

"Have a wonderful night. Maybe we'll get to see Amelia tomorrow at Ash Wednesday!"

"He has made everything beautiful in its time." Ecclesiastes 3:11a

He can make your story beautiful, too.

Friday Flashbacks: My God & Your God

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Fri, 11 May 2012 11:09:00 +0000

First posted January 20, 2010. I wonder if any Bible scholars out there could tell me whether there is any truth in this post?
________

Bear with me; I'm no theologian. I just noticed something that made my heart flutter.

Jesus referred to God a lot in scripture as "my Father." Not our Father or our God. Jesus'.

Until after the resurrection.

His work is finished. He died. He is risen. And He tells Mary Magdalene, "I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God." (John 20:17)

Oh, sweet Jesus. Your death made it so your Father is now my Father. Your resurrection means that your God can also be my God. You have paid the costly adoption fees that pull me into God's family. It is not exclusively reserved for You, for the Perfect One, but for all of those who are now adopted as children of God.

Thank You, Lord!

Quitting Work

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Thu, 10 May 2012 11:32:00 +0000

Today is my last day of work.

As I pulled into the parking deck early one morning weeks ago, I made a plea to God: “If it’s possible, please give me a mighty place to serve You that never again involves accounting.” I've rarely blogged about my deep desires for a different line of work.

I’m not ungrateful for my job. The sweet partner who hired me granted such flexible hours that this mama’s mind was blown with gratitude. Brad and my parents mothered Caroline for months so I could study and pass the CPA exam. My time as an accountant has been a gift. Even though I longed to be home with my girls, I learned “to be content in all circumstances” through working these past four years.

I never felt a peace about quitting work… until we heard we were moving. Brad said then I should stay home with our girls in Mobile.

This last day of work is a happy day.

For every tear I cry to leave Montgomery, our church, and our friends, (including one especially dear work friend,) I am bolstered by confidence that we are meant to go to Mobile, Brad is meant to preach each week, we are meant to serve in new capacities… and this upcoming season of life is not meant for accounting.

In three days, Brad will preach his first sermon at Dauphin Way UMC in Mobile. I am thrilled. Brad knows how He is meant to serve our Savior. I am confident God will also show me new ways to glorify Him, not as an accountant, but as a mother, wife, friend, adoption advocate, teacher, and whatever else He calls me to be.

Enough seriousness.
Start the party!! It's a day of celebration!!!!

Waiting Wednesdays

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Wed, 09 May 2012 11:08:00 +0000

For those of you who wait...

"Never think that God's delays are God's denials. Hold on; hold fast; hold out. Patience is genius." - George-Louis Leclerc de Buffon

Morgan Hayden

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Tue, 08 May 2012 11:34:00 +0000

our friend Morgan Hayden

When I tell teenagers about Mother Teresa, their eyes glaze over. She died in 1997, before many of them were born. To them, lessons from her life seem as archaic and distant as Noah and the flood.

Tell teenagers instead about Katie Davis, and they lean close to hear more. She’s everything pop culture adores… youth, beauty, confidence. Yet she’s turned from all our culture hails, as if she’s had a heart transplant and holds inside of her all Jesus had.

Perhaps the most inspiring thing about Katie Davis is she is alive today. She’s not a page in history; we’ve grown immune to libraries full of dusty history pages. She is, at this moment, a warm breath exhaling upon the red dust of Africa. In this present day, she is proof Jesus lives and His Spirit empowers the weak. How else could a young American homecoming queen become a mother of thirteen girls, a feeder of hundreds, an author who inspires by the thousands?

Faith walks straight paths on this wildly spinning, tilt-o-whirl planet. The ruck of humanity stumbles violently over itself. We wobble and shake, and watch slack jawed as the occasional Spirit-filled Christian glides ahead with Jesus-anchored steps. The sure footed of God rise above.

Watching the sure footed walk across history pages is educational.

Watching them walk across your living room, in your lifetime? It’s intoxicating.

Two years ago, one of these Jesus-walkers “of whom the world is not worthy” sat in my living room. Morgan Hayden sat on my couch.

   We talked about her college classes.

   The desperate grandmother who gave her a starving baby in the remote villages of Honduras.

   How the baby became her daughter.

   How she loved that child back to health, and hoped she wasn’t HIV+ like the birthmother.

   How she reluctantly submitted to her parents and was finishing her last bit of college.

   How she was counting the days until she could move back to Honduras.

   How she missed her daughter.

   How she missed her new home with the Mosquito people.

   How she knows Spanish, but has to learn yet a third language so she can better communicate in her secluded village.

   Her plans to open (family-pod style) orphanages.

   The dangerous Honduran prisoners she’s come to love and serve fearlessly.

   The feeding program she’d begin...

Today, 22 year old Morgan lives in Honduras with her HIV- (praise God) daughter, Grace. She recently gained custody of her son Daniel. She still visits prisons, serves orphans, feeds children. Her ministry is growing by leaps and bounds.

Morgan visited the U.S. this month. Our entire church wanted speak to her between services, so I only stole a moment for a tight squeeze and a hello. She later dashed out to my car for a chance to meet Amelia in person for the first time. We felt like a couple of regular adoptive mama’s chatting.

Amelia, Morgan, me, Caroline

But she’s not just an adoptive mama. She has this entire ministry that God breathed life into. I am in awe.

So we had Caroline sign up to sponsor one of Morgan’s feeding-program children. It was a bargain at only $10 a month. Morgan’s ministry is beautifully raw and new, without the slick marketing that may come in time; I love that. Sponsorship cards were made of photos, construction paper, and personalized drawings by each child. It’s the best sponsorship material I’ve ever seen.

Caroline loves pink, so she chose to sponsor twelve year old “Yahida,” who’d glued her picture to pink construction paper. Yahida will receive this picture of Caroline:

Yahida will also receive two meals a week, vitamins, and deworming medication.

And our family?

Our family receives the gift of knowing Morgan. A real-life, Jesus-walker whose steps are firmly rooted in faith. We follow her blog and Facebook updates. We pray for her. We are inspired by her. We thank God that she was willing to lose her life in order to truly gain it.

*****

Long ago, I started a (slow moving!) blog series called Faith Takes Feet. This post about Morgan, founder of Root Ministries,” is my first in the series. Praise God for steady-walking Christians in a world woozy with sinful distraction.

To give to Jesus’ work through Morgan, click here and notate that your gift is for Root Ministries.

If you know Christians who should be highlighted for “Faith Takes Feet”, please email me at rachel(dot)goode(at)gmail(dot)com.

7 Ways to Learn Hunger for God's Word {even if you have no appetite}

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Mon, 07 May 2012 17:36:00 +0000

If studying the Bible feels like a drag,
an “ought to,”
and far from a passion,
this post is for you.

I’ve been there,
I come back there,
I’ll probably go there again.
Our flesh doesn’t believe that a soak in pure Truth can refresh more than mindless television, or inspire more than moving films.

Our flesh is foolish.

Let me guess… you enjoy Christian books, music, sermons, and Bible studies. But the Bible itself? Eh… not so much. Spiritual warfare is real. We replace God’s Word for entertaining commentaries ABOUT God’s Word. We turn what is meant to supplement into a substitute.

When I was in your shoes, (and I’ll be there again no doubt,) several things helped ignite my passion for the Bible. Maybe some of these ideas will work for you. We need Truth. Don’t give up until your stomach growls for it more than physical food!

SEVEN Ways to Become Hungry for the Word

Admit to God that you have no appetite. Often. I say, “God, I haven’t been in deep Bible study in days, (or weeks/months/years/ever), and worse yet, I don’t care. I am cold to You! Help me! Make me LONG for You and Your Truth!”
Use a Bible reading plan. It’s paralyzing to stare at a thick Bible, unsure where to begin. Reading plans cure that ailment. I love the method I blogged about here because it has "failure" built in. Isn't that the main reason we quit reading plans? Because we miss days and give up? Try this method instead, which let's you fall down and get back up. (Whatever you do, use a plan. You can look for whole-Bible plans, topical plans, etc. Google it.)
Take notes. By writing down the insights you gain as you read scripture, you cement lessons in your mind. I keep dated notebooks from my quiet times. They eventually become sentimental reference books used for personal reflection, or for creating Sunday school lessons and talks.
Read even when you don’t want to. Tell God, “Okay, You say You Satisfy. I am opening my Bible now. I am digging into this chapter and trusting that You will soften my heart and make me LOVE what I find. Help me taste and see that the Lord is good!” Don’t read so you can mark it off your to-do list. Read because you trust that through reading, God will whet your appetite for more of Him and Truth. Time and time again, God causes me to love my time in Scripture. Before long, I am praying, “God, PLEASE give me MORE time with you!”

Read Psalms 119. Transcribe it. It's about loving God’s Word. I transcribed half of Psalms 119 in a Journible on our way to Uganda. Truth must have traveled up my pen and transfused itself into the veins in my arm; after Uganda, my affection for Scripture exploded. (If you don’t know what a Journible is, get ready to swoon: Click here.)

Listen to the Bible. I try to listen to Scripture on my iPhone as I drive or clean. This is invariably interrupted by my girls' pulling on my leg or a phone call. I can't fully concentrate on what I hear. That's okay. This doesn’t replace reading Scripture to yourself. It serves to keep the Word on your mind. All of the interruptions will make you hungry for sit-down and dig-deep quiet time.
Never use "too busy" as an excuse. Sure, you feel too busy. So do I. When the "busy" lie takes over, I pray, "God, I think I'm too busy to spend time with you. The truth is that if I really believed you satisfy, I'd drop everything and run to you. The truth is that I think I am juggling my life, when You hold it. The truth is that I think I am too important to rest, when really I am small and You are big and in control. So I can stop. The truth is that when I do choose to stop, I enjoy a million other interests that are temporal and could never satisfy like you do. Draw me to You. Satisfy me above all else! Make it impossible for me to find joy in anything more than You."

Have you ever felt unable to dig deep in God's Word?
What keeps you from enjoying the Bible?
What helps draw you to Scripture?

Soccer Saturdays

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Sat, 05 May 2012 12:15:00 +0000

Meet the Panthers. Fierce competitors.

My hardcore athlete.

Let's get ready to rumble.

Cue the epic sports soundtrack and watch the slow-mo highlight reels of the slaughter we call Saturday morning.

It's about to get rowdy around here.

Friday Flashbacks: I Am a Segregationist

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Fri, 04 May 2012 11:32:00 +0000

I first published this post on December 3, 2009. After visiting inner-city Montgomery alone at twilight for a ministry event, I was shocked and ashamed at the fear I felt there.
__________

I have a confession to make. In my heart, I am a segregationist. Yes, I am waiting to adopt a precious child from Africa, yet I live by sinful, imaginary walls.

Segregation is not a problem from the Civil Rights era. It is alive today.
It is not just an issue that resides in our schools or neighborhoods, but in our hearts.
It is not just about race, but about ALL of those walls that we build.

Some walls are intentional, but most are built out of our negligence. I am not talking (only) about the kind of segregation that probably comes into your mind.

What I am talking about is our sick need to live "sterile" lives. MY compulsion to live a sterile life. MY sinful desire to stay AWAY from crime, poverty, and sickness… to the point that I resist loving people in need, and then soothe my guilty conscience by sending Christmas tennis shoes and PERHAPS a modest check.

“Oh, but wait!” I argue with myself. “You’d do more if you had time! You’re so busy with your adoption, and that’s a good thing! Your money and time are tied up in that. And what’s more, you’re a wife and mother first!”

And then I think of families like the Kelly’s who live in inner-city Montgomery, against the advice of many worried, rich Christians who wring hands over the safety of their four young boys. The Kelly's don't cash in on excuses. They have centered their entire LIVES around getting dirty loving others. They run a massive ministry, mentoring countless children and transforming an entire neighborhood for Christ. They put family priorities right after seeking God's kingdom.

"Seek ye first the kingdom of God... and all these things will be added unto you..."

As I write this, my words drip with hypocrisy. My heart is so fearful, and so selfish, it will take an act of God to break me and make me into the Christian I long to be. I need God to increase my faith that He is able to do it.

He IS able to do it.

So let's drop the fear and answer God's call.

Here is the call: Recenter your life.
Move to a needy neighborhood, and make your days about ministering to them.
Or take in someone who has no home.
Or give up your plush career, and instead use your gifts to further the kingdom.
OR, stay where you are, but figure out how to give God ALL OF YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES, and live them out as a sacrifice to Him.

Whatever you do, DON'T neatly sanitize your life into boxes. "Church" here, "work" here, "family" here, "acts of service" one Saturday a month. Let Christ so deeply penetrate every area of who we are that ALL of the lines are beautifully messy!!!

Children's Books for Teaching the Bible

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Thu, 03 May 2012 11:09:00 +0000

Here are six children's books our family loves, all aimed towards planting seeds of faith in tiny young hearts. The first two I'm listing are the best. If you can get no others, get these first two awesome books.

The Jesus Storybook Bible is poetic. I regularly fight tears as I read it to Caroline. It's a bit wordy for our four year old, but she still loves it. Our two year old gets bored with it. It's ideal for ages seven and up. I would even highly recommend it to an adult who has no children. It is dripping with beauty, art, and spiritual wisdom.

The other "great" is The Big Picture Story Bible. With childlike stories, it shows how Genesis to Revelation is a single story line. It is perfect for my two year old, my four year old, and even for me... My understanding of Scripture is richer for having read it.

Okay, go order the two books above, stat!

Got them?

Good.

The rest of the books below are great, but optional.

For the tiniest Bible scholars, a cardboard Bible with vivid pictures and a handle:

For kids who love riddles. This book has peek-a-boo flaps that you open to answer riddles.

"One tiny raindrop/splashed on his nose./ Earth turned to mud/As flood waters rose./ With all the animals/ he floated away/ Safe in the ark/ One dark rainy day./ Peek-A-Boo, I see who?/ Peek-A-Boo NOAH!"

The illustrations in this devotional are gorgeous. Caroline stares at them for minutes on end. (That's a long time for a four year old!)

Our roommate once read this entire book to our girls, start to finish. All 256 pages. Someone liked this book, that's all I'm saying!

What books do your children love?

No, really, I need to know! We promised our girls we'd get them some new books!

Waiting Wednesdays

noreply@blogger.com (RACHEL) — Wed, 02 May 2012 11:06:00 +0000

For those of you who wait...

"I will charge my soul to believe and wait for Him, and will follow His providence, and not go before it, nor stay behind it." - Samuel Rutherford, Selected Letters