Thursday, May 28, 2015

Never Once.

A face. A Name.
Both are things we have dreamt of for so long, we were beginning to think we were wishing for a fairy tale that would never come true.  But, one phone call on a seemingly "normal" day changed our lives forever.  I was volunteering in the school cafeteria, just like I always do on Monday's from 11:30a-1:00p. Mark was an hour-and-a-half away at a staff retreat that had only begun that morning.  As I was wrapping up my cafeteria duties with my sweet friend Teresa, who also volunteers on Mondays, Olivia (a dear friend to our family who also happens to be Mark's assistant at church) came by and said, "Call Mark."  Knowing he was on staff retreat and knowing all he had prayed through regarding vision and future of the church, I had no intentions of interrupting  his time or focus there.  So, I said, "He wants me to call?  Is everything ok?" She simply (with a half grin) nodded yes.  I washed my hands, went to grab phone, and assumed he must be needing my opinion or input regarding something that may have come up on the retreat.  No answer.  I put my phone in my back pocket and kept working.  By this time it was 12:50 and I was nearly finished with all my responsibilities.  My phone rang and it was him.  When I answered I knew my first inclination about his needing my input was off.  He said, " I love you more than anything.  I never wanted to do this over the phone.  And I am probably going to mess this whole thing up. We are getting a referral today." I could hear him smiling while he was talking.  I hit my knees with immediate (loud) sobs repeating, "Today? Are you serious?  We get to see a face today?" I asked at some point if he knew the age or gender and he said, " I know the gender. Do you want me to tell you now?" UM, YES.  "It's a boy and I promise that is all I know." Sweet Teresa had no idea what was happening because my words weren't coherent, but my sobs most assuredly convinced her something horrible had just happened to someone in my family.  But, there on the cafeteria floor I was able to know for sure what I had only been able to sing in faith, "Never once did we ever walk alone. Never once did He leave us on our own."

Never Once.

Turns out, two or three years ago Mark called our local agency director, Terri, and asked her to call him first when it came time for us to receive our referral so he could surprise me with flowers or something special to give me the news.  In his focus on the retreat, my working in the cafeteria, and us being nearly two hours apart, that part of the plan fell through the cracks and neither of us cared one bit.  Mark told me over the phone he was en route to me at the church, I was to stay there.  Then, he said Terri and Lauren (our local branch case worker for the majority of our process) were coming to meet us there at 2:00pm.  I couldn't get my heart to slow, the tears to cease, or my hands to stop shaking.  Just two weeks earlier I had emailed our case worker in Grand Rapids (main Bethany office) to ask about movement regarding particular cases we had discussed weeks before.  Based on the response, we really believed the earliest there would even be a chance to receive a referral would be a couple of more weeks.  So, this was totally not expected.  Not to mention, I had always believed Bethany was going to call me first with the news.  So, I had never played out in my mind hearing it from Mark, especially not over the phone.  In the cafeteria.  Wearing an apron.  
But, when hope seems lost or far away, we are guaranteed one thing: we are never alone.

Never Once.

The hour went by slowly, but gave me time to call my mom (who couldn't understand me because of my sobs), call my sister (who asked a million questions that I wished at the time I had known the answer to.... like, "How old is he?"), and try to regain my composure.  I didn't regain my composure before walking down the "grand hallway" at church with loud sobs and having to stop, put my head down on one the window sills, and sob a loud, ugly, relieved cry repeating, "Thank you, Jesus.  You are Faithful."  And, it was UGLY.  I walked into the church office and there stood Olivia.  She had left me 30 minutes earlier with a simple, "call Mark."  She was not completely sure we had received our referral, but she suspected so because Terri had called the church office trying to reach Mark.  She took one look at me and knew.  We hugged a long, tearful hug and then I told her the little bit I knew: meeting Terri and Lauren at 2:00 and it's a boy.  I had so many questions and yet, I already had so many answers.  I knew the wait had already been worth it.  I knew God had ordained the events of the day before He laid the foundations of the earth.  I knew He was the Faithful One along the way, despite my waves of doubt, fear, frustration, and anger.  I knew He had given us promise after promise and He hadn't wavered on a single one.

Never Once.

I was waiting for Mark in the church parking lot when he pulled up.  He barely turned the car off when his door opened and he ran to me.  We hugged and cried right there in the parking lot.  And it was a sweet hug full of relief and praise.  It was our first hug and cry, knowing we had a new son.  I was still not forming complete, intelligible sentences, but with him, I didn't need to.  He knew.  Time was crawling and when Terri and Lauren (and our sweet friend from church, Hannah, who happens to be working at Bethany now!) pulled up I was pacing the floor.  THIS WAS REALLY HAPPENING.  I prayed no one would pinch me because if it was a dream I did NOT want to wake up.  As they entered the church office carrying flowers, words weren't necessary.  There were lots of long, teary hugs for us all.  They have faithfully waited with us, listened to us vent (numerous times), walked with us through seasons of doubt (just a month earlier we were praying about changing countries), and now, they were there to celebrate this special day.  These ladies have stood with us through the fire.  I can't adequately tell you how much they have done, given, listened, fought with/for us.  Today was the day we had all waited for.  Turns out, we wouldn't get photos and details of our sweet boy until the next day.  We knew we had waited four years and that he was around that age.  But, we were ok with that.... we knew it was coming and we knew we were ready.  As Mark and I glanced at one another standing in the church office, one of us (I can't remember which one) said, "Are you ready to tell the kids?" So, we asked the school office to have Brycen and Regan come to the church office.  I am tearful simply recounting it.  As Brycen walked in a few seconds ahead of Regan, Mark looked at him and said, "You have a four year old brother in Africa."  I could see the instant tears fill his eyes, but he tried to bat them away.  I reassured him, "You can cry, buddy, you have waited so well," as I brought him and hugged him tight.  Tears fell.  About that time Regan entered and I knew she already knew.  Mark dropped down to his knees, arms open and said, "You have a four year old brother in Africa" as she fell onto his shoulder already crying.  They have waited, longed, prayed and held fast with us.  They never wavered in believing today would come.

Never Once.

It was such a sweet time and it was extra sweet having so many loving friends around to share in it and to video and snap pictures.  By this time my mom had arrived and, again, we shared long, tear-filled hugs.  Then, Mark, Brycen, Regan, Mom, and me went to Hudson's classroom. It was nap time but he was awake.  I asked his teacher if we could have him and I whispered, "We got matched for our adoption today."  She, through her immediate tears, helped me get him up and gather his things.  He seemed to understand, but we had never prepared him for being a big brother, because we were open to a 0-7 year old.  So, we were never sure he would be a big brother.  When we told him, a huge smile came across his face and he said, "Tyson?"  (the name we will call him). I cried again and said, "Yes. Tyson."  We walked down the hall to Corbin's class.  I poked my head in to find him in reading group and asked if I could have him.  I mouthed to his teacher, "We got our referral."  Again, she had immediate tears.  These teachers and faculty have walked and waited so well with us.  Regan wanted to tell Corbin.  So, there we stood surrounding him and she said, "Guess what, Buddy? We got our referral today and we have a 4 year old brother in Africa."  It took him a second to understand and to make sense of it and finally he said, "Tyson?"  YES!!!  I asked if he wanted to go tell his teacher and he said, "Um, Mom, she is in reading group."  I almost laughed out loud and assured him it would be ok to tell her anyway.  When we entered the room she was already crying and she let him tell his class.  Then, we made our way to Brycen's class where he stood and proudly cried telling his sixth grade classmates/teacher that we had been matched.  It was tender to see his vulnerability in front of them about it.  We praised him for it later.  Then, we caught up with Regan's class while they were in PE.  Her teacher went with us to tell them.  Regan's girlfriends circled around her and cried, hugging and holding her.  I just can't adequately express how well this community at Freedom Christian Academy has waited with us.  They have never made us feel alone or forgotten along the way.

Never once.

As the day went on, we kept coming back to THE BEARD.  It was SHAVE DAY.  When Mark first declared he wouldn't shave until we had a referral NO ONE ON PLANET EARTH thought it would be four LONG years later until we would see those dimples!  As it turned out, our thoughtful friend, Donald Page, texted and asked if we would want him to photograph (he is, after all, a professional photographer) the shave.  It was something we had never talked about, but we are SO thankful he thought of it.  Those pictures of all six of us piled into the bathroom are priceless to us already.  Sweet Hudson was one when Mark started growing his beard.  Needless to say, Hudson didn't remember a clean-shaved, dimple-having Daddy.  The pictures of him rubbing Mark's face are my favorite.  Such a tangible reminder of the Faithful One.  The One who watched over us while never taking His eyes off our son living on the other side of the globe.

Never once.

That night gave way to planning and dreaming and crying.  I didn't sleep NOT ONE WINK.  We had a scheduled conference call for 8am on Tuesday morning to see his face, know his name, hear his story.  It couldn't come fast enough.  However, in the night as I prayed and cried and prayed and cried, I couldn't help but think about and pray for all those who are still longing and waiting.  There simply isn't anything on planet earth like the heartbreak that comes from a longing heart.  Nothing compares to it.  My heart has been so tender toward those still in a season of waiting.  I recounted the millions of times I sang Matt Redman's "Never Once" to the top of my lungs in faith.  I also recounted the millions of times I could only mouth the words while tears streamed down my face because my heart so desperately wanted to believe the words.  Laying in bed that night with an age and a gender, I knew all those other sleepless nights of crying and longing hadn't been in vain.  He had heard them all.  He had been there.  He had never left.

NEVER ONCE.

As darkness gave way to morning, I was up and moving.  Adrenaline was high for everyone. The kids went to school late so they could stay home to see his picture.  We had always planned (since we started this process) to have our friend, Tony Pettis (who also happens to be a photographer), photograph our seeing his face for the first time.  So, knowing we would have our conference call at 8am, Tony graciously arrived at 7:30am and set up a video camera as well as doing still shots.  I don't know how to adequately say "thank you" for such a priceless gift, but we are SO thankful.  As 8:00am rolled around we were logged in and speaker phone on for our conference call. This is us, logged in, waiting for our conference call to begin.



 Around 8:05am we heard the voice of Jennifer, our beloved agency worker in Grand Rapids.  Sweet Jennifer has been through everything with us... always being patient with our questions, our frustrations, our seasons of doubt and fear.  It was so sweet to hear her voice on the other side, knowing this day was one she, too, had longed for.  I don't remember her exact words (I was a bit UNDONE OVER THE WHOLE SITUATION).  I had Kleenex in my lap and it didn't take long for them to come in handy.  She began by telling us about our son's story, about his family, about the circumstances that led to his becoming orphaned.  I cried.  Here we are listening to Jennifer tell us about our son and we are hearing his name and story for the very first time.




Here's the thing about adoption:  It is GRIEF and LOSS mixed together with HOPE and JOY.  Often, it becomes difficult to tell where one stops and the other begins.  After hearing about him, Jennifer stated that they would upload his information and pictures to our Bethany portal page.  Our computer's refresh button hit an all-time high that morning.  But, finally, we saw files loaded and it felt like none of them were loading fast enough.  I am crying as I type just thinking about what it was like to see his face for the first time.




 Sheer joy.  Sheer emotion.  Never once did I doubt that moment would be worth the battles we have fought over the last four years.

Never once.



And I was right.  Nearly immediately Mark looked at me and said, "he was worth it."  And, he IS so worth it.  I can't give a lot of details about him since he isn't legally our son (YET).  Suffice it to say, we are ALL smitten to our cores by this little guy.  We kept looking at his pictures and just the night before I had said, "I will be happy with whatever information they will send, but I would love to hear his voice."  As we continued scrolling through and opening files, we saw one of him singing.  Isn't the Lord kind?  I watched, grinning from ear to ear.... almost in disbelief.  A face. A birthday. A name.  A height. A weight.  Favorite foods.  Favorite toys.  His daily schedule.  All in a moment, it felt so surreal and yet SO REAL all at the same time. The kids came barreling up the steps when we called to see him.  They were SO excited!





 So many details about his story and the timing of significant things in his life correlate perfectly and beautifully to specific seasons of prayer and struggle for us.  Struggle.  That's the thing.... reading all of his information, his tendencies, his story....I kept finding my finger running across the name of his birth mom.  Right there, in black and white in front of me.  Her name.  No one this side of heaven knows the hours I have prayed for her and thought about her.  Even, often times, wondering if she was still alive.  Our greatest joy is her greatest heartache and grief.  I long to tell her that I will love him like I love all four of our biological children.  To let her know he will have every opportunity they will have.  To assure her he is loved without condition or boundary.  To look her in the eye and tell her how courageous and brave and strong she is.  To hug her with every ounce of gratitude that is in me.  God's plan for her is good. It is to prosper her and He has never forsaken her.  Mother's Day was full of sweet joy this year on the one hand.  Knowing his name and staring at every detail of his face (and listening to him sing!) made this Mother's Day so different than the past few.  Knowing her name also made it different.  I am just mindful of her sacrifice and the depth of love she must have for him.  I never (EVER) want to take that for granted.

Never once.

So, here we are.  We have come so far, but we have a long way to go still.  It is highly likely we won't  be able to travel to go get him for 10-12 months (from referral day).  There is a lot of paper work still to do and two governments working hard to cross every "t" and dot every "i."  We would so appreciate your prayers for (1) speedy paperwork.  We are waiting for documents from Ethiopia that are required for us to complete our next level of immigration paperwork.  Court will close in Ethiopia from August to October for rainy season.  Therefore, we cannot get a court date during those months. We are really wanting to do our part to complete paperwork in an expedited manner in order to let God do what only He can do.  (2)Please pray our son continues to grow and learn. He seems to be a healthy little guy.  He has overcome so much.  Pray for his days to be full of hope and laughter.  We pray for peace and safety to overwhelm him and for him to supernaturally be knit together to us when we meet him.  (3)Pray for his birth mom.  Human words won't do here... I can't even type up what to specifically pray for except for her to have peace and comfort.  Jesus knows what she needs.  (4) Pray for our family as we continue to prepare.  We are working hard at home to get things ready for another boy (a new Superheroes bedroom has already made its way here).  Pray for each of us to have realistic expectations for when he is home and a continued excitement about his coming!  Also, we have prayed all along that Corbin (6 years) and Hudson (5 years) will supernaturally understand what is happening.  They seem to both totally "get it." Pray this continues.  (5) We have paid all of our agency/country fees (YAY!) and we are currently saving for travel.  We have decided that rather than making two trips about 7-8 weeks apart, each lasting 7-14 days, to make one long trip (3-4 weeks).  This will allow us to get custody of him after our court hearing (just a couple days after we arrive) and we won't have to leave him.  This would also allow us to take Brycen and Regan with us for the same cost of us making two trips,  if the Lord provides for that.  We believe those days/weeks in his country will be priceless, treasured days of bonding.  I don't want to take one of them for granted.
In closing, I can't adequately express how grateful we are for you, our community, who has walked tirelessly with us.  You have longed with us, cried with us, and prayed with us.  We still need you to pray with us to GET HIM HOME.  But, one of the sweetest (if not THE sweetest) parts about this entire process has been the support and love we have received from you.  There have been days it has completely overwhelmed us (in a good way!).  Of all the days I felt alone, I knew in the deepest parts of who I am,  we hadn't been alone one day.

Never once.

And, to someone reading who is still in a season of darkness and waiting. Or longing or grief..... speak over your situation, in faith, what you believe you will one day be able to speak over it in sight.  For me, it was that beautiful worship song, "Never Once."  I often sang the words dreaming about what it would be like to sing them on this side.  And, the lyrics are woven into my heartstrings.  He is the Faithful One.  He is the One fighting battles on our behalf.  He is the One to praise.  He never leaves us.

Never Once.





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