Clearing the Cobwebs

Shew!
We have had a busy few weeks, but I wanted to do a post to catch everyone up on what's been going on. So, this post will be a bit different... trying to, well, you know, clear the cobwebs in my brain. I have had so much on my mind and things to share, I figured I would just do one post and get it all cleared up!
First, last week Mark arrived safely back home from Israel where he spent ten days touring the Holy Land. The trip was such a sweet gift from our church, Chilhowee Hills. We missed him terribly, but we were thrilled at the opportunity for him to be able to see scripture really come to life. Before heading to the airport to pick Mark up last Thursday the little boys and I needed to make one short, IMPORTANT stop. Adoption Agency. Arm full of paperwork. It felt so good to walk in with so many papers completed. It was a huge step for us and we are going to be able to start our homestudy in just a few short weeks. If you would, we would love to have you join us in praying that our homestudy can start at the end of February. This is the earliest it could get started, but we know the One who makes all things possible!
This week was our "go-get-medical-exams-and blood draws-and-check-ups-for-adoption" week! Aren't you glad you asked? Ahem. Anyway. I had a physical on Monday (I love when everything checks out well!), Brycen and Regan had well visits Wednesday, Corbin and Hudson went yesterday (4 immunizations, 2 flu shots, a blood draw, a finger stick, and 2 hours later we left!), and Mark will round us out today by having his physical. Yes, our insurance company loves us. But, again, it feels good to be getting so much done. We are trying to stay on top of what we can get done because so much of this process is out of our hands. There will be enough waiting without dragging it out ourselves. Or at least that's our philosophy!

During all the snow Brycen and Regan had a fun craft project! In December Regan's first grade class made "passports" and then "traveled" to different rooms through the week. Each room represented a different country. While the students visited the different "countries" they learned about Christmas traditions, foods, and crafts from those places. Regan was all smiles after "visiting" Africa. One of the crafts was a bracelet with different colored beads on it. When she was telling us about the bracelet an idea was born for Brycen and Regan to make leather strapped bracelets with a red, a green, and a yellow bead on them (the colors of Ethiopia). These bracelets could be used as reminders for us to pray for our sweet Ethiopian daughter/sister. So, we took advantage of a snow day and cut leather, tied knots, strung beads, and made bracelets. We have different sizes. If any of you are interested in a prayer bracelet, please inbox me on facebook or send me a private message to carriemckeehan@gmail.com All members (except Hudson) of our family are wearing the bracelets. I know some of you have noticed and mentioned it. We are committed to wearing them until our daughter comes into our forever family!
Lastly, God has opened me up to an entirely new part of my adoption in Christ this week. I would love to share with you a bit about what I am reading and how it confirms for me all the more what great love Christ has for us and how amazed I am that He chose to adopt us into His family. In our adoption reading we are having to read (and read by choice!) many books about raising a transracial family, dealing with language and cultural barriers, and helping a child adjust who likely will have attachment issues. Attachment issues. At first thought I couldn't seem to relate. Then, I started sensing God was wanting me to move past my pride and arrogance. Attachment issues arise because we remove a young child from everything familiar to her. We lavish on her love when she has never known (often times) how to successfully attach to anyone. Quite often she has had to learn to fend for herself and not to others for comfort, meeting needs, or security. This can be challenging as parents try to gain trust, offer safe physical contact, and learn to appropriately/effectively discipline. So often in adoption we, in our ignorance, are prone to thoughts about how grateful and "lucky" these children are who are adopted out of oppression into homes and families of provision, love, and opportunity. The truth is, we are removing her from all that is familiar, all she's known, all that makes sense to her. As I was talking with Brycen and Regan about what it would be like if we could no longer be their family, they were adopted by a family living in Ethiopia, had to learn to speak Amharic, eat injera, and learn to live like Ethiopians. With wide-eyes we talked about how different life here will be for their sister. Better, from our perspective, and perhaps from her perspective once she knows and loves us. But at first we can see how scary, hard, and frustrating it must be. No doubt she will be afforded opportunities here that she wouldn't have otherwise, but then it occurred to me: the familiar is so comfortable to us. Even if it doesn't compare to the opportunities of something new. Then, the Holy Spirit intervened, "Carrie, it's just like when you came to me. It's easy to stay with what's familiar, even though abundant life is waiting." Breath. Take it in. In our lives as we journey with Christ things can seem scary, hard, and frustrating. So much so that often we just want to go back to what is familiar and comfortable. Our lives of sin or living with little regard for Jesus and His sacrifice for us was what we knew. Turning our lives over to the unknown, the unfamiliar can be tough even with the promises of provision, love, and opportunity beyond our wildest imaginations. Our adoptions in Christ are so tangible to me right now. He is the One that is constantly pursuing us, forgiving us, and loving us in an effort to ease our transition from the old "us" to the new "us." He is the One facilitating and making a way for us to overcome our attachment issues. When we want to turn and go back to the familiar He is there whispering His promises of abundant life, protection, and steadfastness over us. As you go through your day, I am praying you will begin to see how we, too, have difficulty trusting sometimes, moving on with our "new life" in Christ, and our tendencies to want to escape to what is familiar, even if it isn't what is best for us. Also praying for you as you learn to trust Him with your attachment issues. I am journeying with you on this one... learning to lean into the One who fought for, pursued, and died to make us part of His family in order to that we can fully attach to Him, dependent on His provision, love, and opportunity.
Thanks for journeying with us. And for letting me clear the cobwebs.

365 days.

365 days.
So long, yet so short. This time last year our family was battling fevers, illness, and GI bugs. Little did we know that our sweet Hudson would be hospitalized in one week for four days, battling a tough case of RSV. We felt overwhelmed in the midst of it that we were battling the enemy full-force. We had just returned from Passion Twenty-Ten where our lives had been changed as we served the 20,000 college students attending. Our hearts and minds were under attack and as a result, so was our health. It. was. stressful. We had over 25 days of someone having a fever in our home.
So long, yet so short. It doesn't take much to put me back in those days, how I was feeling, what I was thinking, and how I was changing. Yet, it also feels so long ago. So much has changed, so much is new, so much is different. Today we are all healthy and strong, enjoying a fun snow day at home. Mark is off to Israel and the kids and I are in full force... still wearing our PJ's, talking about playing games in a few minutes and making us some hot chocolate. It just feels so, so....different. Not just physically, but WHO we are. The conversations I have with the kids over the hot chocolate are focused on silliness, playing in the snow, and Regan's newly made-up game show she's hosting in the play room. Just as quickly, the focus changes. Brycen is a contestant on Regan's game show, perfectly named "Guess What?". He is, of course, winning and winning big. Regan, as the game show host, asks Brycen what he plans to do with the load of cash ("forty hundred thousand dollars" as I recall) he is about to win. He, in all seriousness replies, "Well, I am using it to pay for my family's adoption." Regan, playing along, asked, "Why are you adopting and from where?" Brycen, "We are adopting me a new sister from Ethiopia. And why? Well, it just seems easy to me, so I don't know why people keep asking. But, we are adopting because we want a new sister and she needs a family. See? It just works."
365 days.
I wish I could magically go back in time and play this game last year to hear his response. Something in me tells me it would be so different. I love how God has begun something big in them. He has continued to put words and simplicity to us amid all the complicated politics through them. As we have been talking about adoption, their sister, challenges that will inevitably arise after she comes home, and our responses to others, I have been reading a lot about how to foster healthy transitions for all of us. In the reading I have come face to face with the reality of adoption loss in a fresh new way. The idea that our joy, our addition, our new life, our new family, our answer to prayer is someone else's great loss, source of deep grieving, product of tragedy or oppression, and worst nightmare. In those conflicting worlds rests a little girl caught in the middle of grief and searing pain as well as new-found love and family. It's a lot to take in. It's a lot to wrestle with and pray through. Yet, I think back over the last year and I am confident in God's sufficiency.... His ability to be right there in the middle where pain and joy meet. His capacity to bring beauty from ashes is overwhelming, though I have seen that process isn't always easy, it IS always beautiful. My heart and mind are preoccupied today with thoughts about the past year for us and what changes it has brought. For some reason, I can't separate that from the last 365 days for our daughter's family. Even if her "family" is an orphanage and caregivers. Somewhere today lives a little girl who has had her own "last 365 day journey" and I don't know how her last year coincides with ours, but I know it does. I know God is crafting her for us and us for her. I know that the next 365 days will somehow merge those worlds... even if only on the basis of identity and putting faces with names. In it all, I am confident that though our family will have it's own unique hurdles and struggles, it, too, will have it's own unique beauty. "See? It just works."

Christmas in the waiting...

Sigh.

Hard. Day.

Christmas was tough for me... and though Mark and I didn't want to be a downer on Christmas, I think it was hard on us both. It was as if one could tangibly feel that someone was missing. All morning the kids played (loudly) and we had our traditional big breakfast. As always Thomas had spent the night with us and enjoyed our festive Christmas morning. It all felt so "normal" while feeling so different at the same time. I fought back tears repeatedly and even had to break away a time or two to just cry. It hurts. Christmas in the waiting.

I am still desperately longing to have the balance figured out of living to give and still not second-guessing every purchase. I was thrilled with how "little" the kids got, yet how genuinely excited they were with their Christmas morning. Yet, in all the fun I was remembering how blessed we are, not wanting to miss it for a second... not wanting to forget that our day was full of what over 90% of the world only dream of... plenty of food, Christmas feast (after a huge breakfast), toys, and above all... each other. Family. Break away for tears...again.

It was a great day, don't get me wrong. It was, actually, one of the best Christmases I can remember. This year was full of talking about why Jesus came to begin with all those years ago. Not thinking of Himself or what would be easiest, He came in order to selflessly give. In that, Christmas should be about selflessly giving, not thinking about ourselves, what we want, or what is easiest. All of that really hit me Christmas morning- that He would love me enough to come into this hard, cold, deceitful world in order to ultimately adopt me from it. Amazing.

Fast forward to today... We had our "Christmas" with my sister, her family, my parents, and my grandparents today. It was organized chaos and we wouldn't have it any other way! With ten kids between us (the oldest is 15) it was fun, full of wrapping paper, and a total blast. We were able to celebrate Tia and Garrett's first Christmas in our family and in the US (they are our 6 year old niece and nephew adopted from Ethiopia earlier this year). Sheer fun. Then after most all the gifts were open and each of the granddaughters had opened a soft, cloth doll from Grammie, Mom told me there was one more gift in a hidden bag. She wanted Regan to open it. When she handed it to Regan, Mom said, "Regan, this is for your sister." Tears. Regan pulled out a "brown" doll that matched her own "white" doll. Perfect. In an instant, it made our daughter there with us, celebrated, not forgotten or overlooked. It immediately made it "okay" for me to be grieving that she wasn't home with us, but that we can love on her in the waiting.

So, in the waiting her doll has a new home (and soon so will she!) right here:



Tonight as I snapped the pictures of the doll and Regan I sat on the bed with Regan to chat. We looked through Christmas pictures and videos. She sat up and said, "Video me." I laughed because she is always a star looking for a rolling camera! She said, "No! Really... I have something to say to people." I, again, laughed, thinking she might break out into dancing, singing, or telling some kind of story. But, rather when the red-light flashed she immediately explained about the dolls and how she can't wait to teach her sister English, to have fun with her, and that other people should adopt children because then, more children would have families. She ended her video looking straight into the camera saying, "Thank you." As if she knew others would hear her plea and readily accept. I sure hope so! I will try to figure this blogger thing out and upload the video. As of now, no luck!

So, I am learning to be in the journey, not just on the journey. To be teachable, moldable, and moved by God's compassion on me, on us, as His chosen creation is part of this process. I don't want to miss Him showing me HIM in all the dates, paperwork, finances, letters, signatures, and appointments. He is so faithful to remind me He is seeing and knowing every detail, every tear, and every fear....even through our Christmas in the waiting.

Fresh Paint

Christmas morning at our house is quite likely the loudest place on the block. With four kids, 8 and under, the wonder of it all just comes to a head on Christmas morning when the kids run down the stairs. It's one of my favorite times of the whole year. This year will be equally as wonderful, though it might be a bit different. We have changed so much about our lives over the course of the year, so Christmas was not left out. This year each child could ask Santa for one gift and then they could ask for one gift from Mom and Dad. It has been so great to watch them not question the change even once. They have taken it in stride which has made me so aware of how much of the giving in the past has really been about us, the adults, not about the kids at all. Anyway. Regan asked for her room to be "redone" as her gift from Mom and Dad. We were thrilled about it, knowing the "girls' room" would need a facelift in order to prepare for our Ethiopian princess. So, we took advantage of the snow and ice last week to paint, rearrange, and get the bulk of the room made over. We still have a few details to tackle, but all in all, it is nearly done. As Mark painted the purple on the walls late Wednesday night, I couldn't help but get teary a time or two just thinking about what this room means now and the memories it will hold. With every plan or purchase I have been intentional about thinking in two's. Two of everything. Thursday I painted the wide pink stripe on the walls and again, couldn't help but think about what the "fresh paint smell" represented. It meant a room for one was becoming a room for two, a comforter from the shelf now belonged to our daughter who has likely never had her own bed, own blanket, or own pillow (if a pillow at all). It meant this was no longer "Regan's room," but a room for sisters. We tried to keep Regan out as we completed each step of the room so she could walk in and be surprised. Thursday afternoon after I got her bed moved into place and her tape removed from the walls, she came in and just like Christmas morning she put her hands over her mouth, smiling. She said, "Oh Mom! Thank you for doing this room for us! I just love it! I can't wait to show it to my sister." I grabbed Regan up , sat on her sister's bottom bunk and talked about what all they could do in the room together. It was so special to hold Regan, talk to her about sleepovers with her sister, late night giggles, and playing Barbies in the floor. Regan said, "Mom, you know why I picked pink and purple for the room?" I said, "Um, because you are six and a girly girl?" She grinned and said, "Well, no. Since pink is my favorite color, I am hoping purple is my sister's favorite color. See? This room is the perfect combination." Her words stuck with me. The perfect combination. Yes, it is. Two colors, touching, living there in that one room, looking beautiful and right together. The perfect combination.

Throughout the day I kept being drawn back into the room. My mind wouldn't let it go... there is an empty bed... waiting. I kept going in, straightening those covers, touching the pillow, smelling the paint. Rubbing my hand across the pink and purple thinking, "the perfect combination." Missing her. I don't know her name or her face, but I know I love her, WE love her, and we are eager to have her join our family. She probably has no idea what a pillow sham is, how to fold her clothes in her dresser, or what fresh paint smells like. But, today it is all hers, even then fresh-paint smell. The perfect combination.

No more....

Fatherless.

If I could just leave the cursor flashing after that word and leave it as my post today I would. One simple word. So much impact. When I think about the fatherless of the world it makes my stomach turn a bit. Something in me is stirred to tears at the mere thought. Fatherless.

From a girl with the world's best Dad, being fatherless is so difficult for me for comprehend. With a dad who loves me and has taught me about unconditional love, the mere thought of life without Dad is hard to even allow myself to imagine. To be honest, the idea of being orphaned is something in years past I would have said, "Me? Orphaned? No way." The part of me that likes to paint a rose-colored picture of myself and see myself through eyes of pride and arrogance. The reality is, I, of all people, can relate to being an orphan. Spiritually, I was without hope, without love, without a Father (Psalm 68:5). Fatherless.

I was reminded Sunday night during church that God chose to step out of heaven, put on flesh in the form of Jesus, and come to live among His people, making a way for reconciliation. Making Himself like us, knowing our struggles, temptations, stresses. Unlike us, facing all of this life perfectly. Amazing. Because of His great love for me, for us, He made a way for mankind to know Him, love Him, serve Him, live for Him. I'm so grateful my Dad taught me about my offer of adoption in Christ (Eph 1:5). My adoption into His family changed my life. Fatherless no more.

Fatherless.

It's been what has been on my heart and mind for a few days. I have a daughter living half way around the world fatherless today. She has no idea she is loved, fought for, pursued. She has no idea she has hope, love, a father. Sigh. It often brings about a sense of urgency for me and I become overwhelmed with how far we have to go to get her home. I begin to feel desperate and apprehensive. In those moments I am reminded that our strength is only renewed in waiting on the Lord (Isaiah 40:31)... not paperwork, signatures, money, or approval. Waiting on any of those will deplete my strength. But, waiting on the Lord renews my strength. So, we wait.

But, during that same Sunday night service I was introduced to a passage that has changed my perspective. When I consider as many "what ifs" as my mind will allow regarding our adoption it becomes overwhelming. Not knowing our daughters history, what she has seen or endured, not knowing if she's ever appropriately bonded with anyone in her life makes me wonder sometimes how all that will impact our family and how she will respond to our love. It can make me, as a mom, feel somewhat inadequate. I'm grateful for inadequacy. In it, I must rest in His surplus of adequacy! I was reminded from Hebrews 2: 17-18 that because Christ came, fully God and fully man, He was made human in EVERY way. No matter what our daughter has faced, is facing, or will face, He understands, He has been there, He overcame. Sigh. It has never been and will never be my purpose to fill in all of her hurt. I will try with every ounce of who I am to help her heal in a healthy way, to introduce her to unconditional love, and to introduce her to the One who fully understands and knows her. But, only He can completely heal her and understand where she has been. I am so grateful for Him. I am also grateful she will one day know the feeling of "at least a thousand kisses a day" (Mark's goal for the kids!), the unconditional love of a proud dad, the "cuddle time" just before bed in the recliner, the down-on-one knee open-armed hug from her dad. I can't wait for her to know him and to know HIM. Fatherless no more.

You Bet!

It was so fun yesterday to see the FedEx truck pull up to our house! Not because he was delivering Christmas gifts and not because he was delivering anything "big." But, because he was delivering these: birth certificates for each family member and a copy of our marriage certificate. The last few documents we need to complete this phase of paperwork. So excited! It was even more exciting to greet him at the door and see snow pouring down! Sigh. Never thought I would be so excited to get something in the mail!

As I opened the envelopes and inspected each document to make sure it was indeed what I needed, I fought back tears. One more step: done. Then, as I read each line of our kids birth certificates I recalled their births, filling out the birth certificate forms, and signing each one... full of excitement and joy each time. Another sigh. Somewhere today living in Ethiopia is a little girl without a birth certificate. Without a family that she knows. I can't wait to hold her birth certificate form, see her last name as McKeehan, and sign it as her mother....full of excitement and joy.

The more paperwork I do the more I become aware of all that adoption is about. It isn't just bringing a new child into your home and caring for him/her like your own... It is about them being your own. It is about us, as the adopters, changing and gaining the greatest blessing. As others are talking to us about our adoption they often say, "Wow! I think what you are doing is great" or "It takes someone special to do what you all are doing." Each time I am caught in the moment not sure what to say. I am often drawn, in those moments, back to our adoption Sunday. Just a few weeks ago we had an adoption-emphasis Sunday. In a video about families in our church who have adopted one of the adoptive moms said, "There isn't anything extraordinary about us, but God has done something extraordinary in our lives." YES!!!! That's it! Ordinary Mark and Carrie (with one more batch of papers ready to go). Extraordinary God? YOU BET!

Green Salad and Pink Sheets

Thanksgiving. Just hearing it conjures up so many memories, emotions, sights, and smells. If your family is like our family everybody has "their dish" to bring to the Thanksgiving feast. You know, the one dish you are "known" for. For my Nannie it was green salad. Lime jello salad made in a green plastic, round mold. Yumm! It was always my favorite growing up. Since Nannie went to be with Jesus I was honored to be given her green, plastic mold....everyone knew it was my favorite "Nannie dish" (that and her hot tamales!). So, now, it is my turn to bring green salad to Thanksgiving every year. Gladly! This year is no exception. But, this year is different.

As I was shopping for the ingredients I was reminded of Nannie, her laugh, her smell, her hugs. It's always a little emotional and sentimental for me. But as I walked the aisles of the grocery store yesterday, I couldn't help but think about Nannie, an important part of my Thanksgiving's in the past as well as our Ethiopian daughter, who will be an important part of my Thanksgiving's in the future.

Thanksgiving. Feast. It almost hurts to write. I am so, so thankful for the journey we are on. I am thankful for what and how this journey is teaching me. I am so thankful for four great, healthy kids who love laughter and cuddle time. I am ever so grateful for a loving husband, one that I never have to worry about how he feels about me. What blessings! I am thankful for those caring for our daughter in Ethiopia today. For her birth family and the love they most certainly have for her. I am thankful God has "birthed" in us expanding our family this way. So, so thankful. I am thankful that yesterday I was able to buy crisp, new hot pink sheets and put them on the new mattress on the bottom bunk in the "girls" room. Thankful that I was able to get those sheets because my heart missed her and wanted to feel like I was doing something for her. It was so special for me to put those sheets on her bed and dream about tucking her in one day. Thankful.

Feast. That's where it gets hard. I am continuing to pray as Regan prays that "my sister will feel full today." I want to go into Thanksgiving so grateful for the provisions for us, for the ability we have to be with family and to have the abundance. But, I also want to go into it mindful of the billions all over the globe who have never seen a feast, much less had the opportunity to partake in one. I am so thankful that one day, our beloved Ethiopian daughter will know a Thanksgiving feast when she sees it. One day.

So for now, I will be honored to be the one known for making the green salad. My kids will grow up thinking that was "my" recipe. I will be teaching my girls to make green salad before you know it! In the meantime, I will look at those pink sheets and pray. Looking forward to a Thanksgiving when I can tuck my newest daughter into her very own bed.