The kids and I spent our last day of summer together at Denton Water Works (I highly recommend, by the way). They went down slides, hung out in the lazy river, jumped off diving boards and got splashed by a ton of fountains and spray things. I am constantly amazed at the progress that has occurred in water-play engineering since I was a kid, swimming in the large community pool surrounded by a decrepit chainlink fence. Friday was a wonderful ending to the longest summer I can remember.
We did a million things, and because where we live rocks, most of them were cheap or free: although you will quickly find that most places we went probably wish they had charged my crazy kids for access.
1. Kate had her birthday party at Zone Action Park (thank you Groupon). She wanted to invite her entire kindergarten class, and I quickly learned that kindergarten is when parents drop off at parties. I completely understand; I love the two hours of free babysitting that a birthday party provides. Besides being unable to find one child for an uncomfortably long time when his mom picked him up, and having to call a mom to see if her child had made it home (He did. WHEW!), I think it was a big success.
2. We took swimming lessons with Miss Sherry. Watson, who cried at the mere prospect of removing his floaties in May, was swimming to the deep end by the end of the summer. I see very little of swimming lessons, as I spend most of my time "getting to know" the other moms who get to sit poolside with me. I also might add that Watson also learned to ride his teeny bike this summer. It was a big summer for him.
3. We went to the Red, White and Blue Festival. Actually, we drove by and the parking lot was too full, so we went to our favorite little peninsula on the lake, waited for an hour, decided to drive off, and, just as would be expected, the fireworks started immediately when we left. We quickly found a cul-de-sac and watched. When I say "we", I mean Philip found one with me yelling, "Hurry! They're going to miss it!" in his ear. The kids made friends with another crew of preschoolers, and all of them found climbing over our car's hood and roof much for fascinating than the show. A day in the life with kids . . .a three-hour wait for five minutes of entertainment. Our town does the firework show the first weekend of June, but we also went to a high point to watch neighboring fireworks on the Fourth of July. That is until Watson ate the glo-stick, and we had to go home.
4. WE SWAM!! We swam at the pools (every one of them). We swam at friends' house (thanks Sylvester, King, McCurdy and Fernandez families). We swam with our families (thanks Walter and Joy and Emmy and Pops). We went to Old Town Aquatic Park, Sun Valley Aquatic Park and Denton Water Works (all within 15 minutes of the house). We even went out to the Chisholm Aquatics Center in Hurst, where the kids spent so much time on the slides, my best friend and I actually got to have an uninterrupted conversation (which we have not done in years). Yeah, Jill!
5. WE BOATED!! We were blessed to take two trips to Possum Kingdom Lake (thanks Phillips family), where the kids learned to jump off the roof of a boat dock (thanks Philip). And we got to go on several day trips to Lake Lewisville (thanks Griders). I actually swam in the lake and enjoyed it, wearing my life jacket diaper. One of the sweetest moments was when Watson fell asleep on the boat for an hour while I held him; it has been so long since I held one of my sleeping babies. Poor kid ending up with a vicious sunburn! I guess staring at the sky without moving for an hour will do that to you.
6. We hung out at the library. While I was a horrible reading teacher mom (we did not come close to reading our 24-hour goal), we did get some new picture books and TONS of movie fun! We even read a few Magic Treehouse books. CHAPTER BOOKS MAKE ME SO HAPPY! Unfortunately, the acoustic dome at the Lewisville Library does not. I am not sure if children yelling into the dome was the intended effect of such construction, but my children certainly think so.
7. We experienced STAR WARS. Thanks to the Purvis family and the Lewisville library, we watched the entire Star Wars series. I did not watch them as a kid, so I may have loved it more than the kids. Well, no one could love it more than Watson, who talks about it twenty-four hours a day and tries to turn everything into a light saber. Watson even found a Darth Vader mask at Kid-to-Kid for $10, and he likes to say, "I am your father" over and over again. He actually looks like the kid in the VW commercial, and that makes me smile.
8. We ate!! This was actually the most dangerous of all. At Chick-fil-A, Watson popped a balloon so loudly that the ENTIRE RESTAURANT took cover, and I do not exaggerate because even the manager said he ducked under the counter. That same day, a boy came running out of the playroom because another little boy punched him. Turns out the culprit was my Star Wars-crazed preschooler. And, I won't even mention the antics we had at Burger King . . .
9. We lost teeth. And, I mean we lost them. Kate has lost two teeth this summer (and one is hanging on by a disgustingly loose thread). When she lost the first tooth, she wrote the tooth fairy, "Please do not take the tooth but leave me a present." So, the sweet and wonderful tooth fairy did just that. What happened the next day when I dragged my two children through the metal detectors at the Denton Courthouse to get copies of our marriage certificate? The tooth was dropped in the center of a sea of white linoleum. There I was, on the floor of the courthouse, looking for A TOOTH! The security guards began to get worried, and we had to let it go. She cried, but it was better than mom getting questioned and detained.
10. We watched the Olympics. How incredible was it to watch the kids realize that the USA is a pretty cool place. While I am sure the "edited" programming made it look like we were the only team who competed, watching the medal ceremonies and hearing the Star-Spangled Banner over and over again made us all swell with pride. I loved hearing them say about the winner, "Is that our team?" and react in awe that we had won again.
One thing we did not do: NAP!!! There was one day Watson took a nap and another day Kate took a nap. But, they were certainly not the same day. We often saw 10 pm and rarely saw 7 am. We definitely need a vacation from our vacation, and I think school is just the thing! :)
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
The Sweet Spot!!
What a journey this has been. From April to May, we were speeding along, seeing an adoption by the end of the year as a possibility, only to find ourselves at a STAND-STILL this ENTIRE summer. Let's not focus on the fact that this summer would have been the PERFECT time for me to finish our paperwork. Why? Because my perfect time is not God's perfect time, and He is so good. Let me tell you why . . .
Just to give a little recap of the past few months:
Enter waiting game. Enter doubts that this was ever God's will. Enter questions about my own intentions and motivations. But, God is so good!
The night I posted the blog saying that we were putting on the brakes was tough for me. I really did not know how we would adopt now. It did not feel right going back to the other agency, and we were pretty convinced that the entire "process" was not for us. We wanted to be more involved; we wanted to know more; we wanted to be able to ask questions and be certain that we were making a wise decision, in every step of the process; we wanted to do what was good and right for the country and its people.
Over the entire course of this process, I have been emailing a sweet woman who runs an organization helping orphans in the DRC. At one time, they helped with adoptions, but it was clear based on our email contact, that this was no longer their focus. They wanted to be a voice for the orphans left behind, and I definitely respect that. So, on the night we said, "Stop!", I emailed her, thanking her for her advice and asking how we could help, if we chose not to go forward with adoption.
And, then we waited . . .
On July 25, I got a response (and I paraphrase): "We would love your support of orphans in the DRC. We occasionally coordinate adoptions if we have a referral from another family in our organization. Do you know anyone?"
My thoughts: I don't know anyone. *SIGH* Another door closed.
My reply (and I paraphrase again): "Pick me! Pick me! We will be nice to you; we will be nice to our child; we will be nice to the people of the DRC. Pretty please with cherry on top?"
Her response: "Maybe. Let's wait until winter."
My reply: "So, you're saying there's a chance? (taken from Dumb and Dumber, if you don't recognize) Can we do anything in the meantime? By the way, I am licensed to practice law here in Texas. Could I help you with the adoptions in some way?"
I stop here to discuss what a sweet moment of grace I am sitting in. I have been praying for adoption for a few months. But, I have been praying to use my law degree in a way that aligns with my passions for seven years. Is there any way the Lord could answer both prayers at the same time? Ah, yes. Because He is that good.
Her response: "Let's chat. When are you available this week?"
And, after tons of prayer, after several conversations where it is clear this organization is the perfect fit, and after a weekend of paperwork, we just found out yesterday that WE HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED. And, to see the joy in our house. I was cheering; the kids ran around hugging one another; even Philip expressed his elation (by smiling--those of you who know Philip know how elated he gets). :)
So, we are back on the road again. And, it feels so right. It's like we were trying to get somewhere, our GPS constantly saying, "Recalculating," in that sweet British accent that makes you want to hit it. Hard. And, then, right when we least expected it, we were placed on the right path. The organization will help us with the adoption, but we are involved in every step of the process. As I learn the process, I can help other adoptive families. We also get to learn of real needs of real orphans in the DRC from those working on the ground. And, there is a little boy on the other side of the world who just got a home. And he doesn't even know it yet.
And, to think, God has been orchestrating this whole thing, even amidst our frustrations and doubts. I cry out in awe of His goodness, His mercy, His faithfulness. More than anything, I hope this encourages you on your path. If we can pray for you in some way, please let us know.
Just to give a little recap of the past few months:
- April: picked an agency and got home study for that agency.
- May: could not sign with that agency, for no other reason than this nagging feeling that would not let us move forward.
- June: started with another agency that had a super-sweet boy waiting to be adopted. Changed home study to requirements of that agency.
- July: things fell apart (will not go into details for respect of all parties involved).
Enter waiting game. Enter doubts that this was ever God's will. Enter questions about my own intentions and motivations. But, God is so good!
The night I posted the blog saying that we were putting on the brakes was tough for me. I really did not know how we would adopt now. It did not feel right going back to the other agency, and we were pretty convinced that the entire "process" was not for us. We wanted to be more involved; we wanted to know more; we wanted to be able to ask questions and be certain that we were making a wise decision, in every step of the process; we wanted to do what was good and right for the country and its people.
Over the entire course of this process, I have been emailing a sweet woman who runs an organization helping orphans in the DRC. At one time, they helped with adoptions, but it was clear based on our email contact, that this was no longer their focus. They wanted to be a voice for the orphans left behind, and I definitely respect that. So, on the night we said, "Stop!", I emailed her, thanking her for her advice and asking how we could help, if we chose not to go forward with adoption.
And, then we waited . . .
On July 25, I got a response (and I paraphrase): "We would love your support of orphans in the DRC. We occasionally coordinate adoptions if we have a referral from another family in our organization. Do you know anyone?"
My thoughts: I don't know anyone. *SIGH* Another door closed.
My reply (and I paraphrase again): "Pick me! Pick me! We will be nice to you; we will be nice to our child; we will be nice to the people of the DRC. Pretty please with cherry on top?"
Her response: "Maybe. Let's wait until winter."
My reply: "So, you're saying there's a chance? (taken from Dumb and Dumber, if you don't recognize) Can we do anything in the meantime? By the way, I am licensed to practice law here in Texas. Could I help you with the adoptions in some way?"
I stop here to discuss what a sweet moment of grace I am sitting in. I have been praying for adoption for a few months. But, I have been praying to use my law degree in a way that aligns with my passions for seven years. Is there any way the Lord could answer both prayers at the same time? Ah, yes. Because He is that good.
Her response: "Let's chat. When are you available this week?"
And, after tons of prayer, after several conversations where it is clear this organization is the perfect fit, and after a weekend of paperwork, we just found out yesterday that WE HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED. And, to see the joy in our house. I was cheering; the kids ran around hugging one another; even Philip expressed his elation (by smiling--those of you who know Philip know how elated he gets). :)
So, we are back on the road again. And, it feels so right. It's like we were trying to get somewhere, our GPS constantly saying, "Recalculating," in that sweet British accent that makes you want to hit it. Hard. And, then, right when we least expected it, we were placed on the right path. The organization will help us with the adoption, but we are involved in every step of the process. As I learn the process, I can help other adoptive families. We also get to learn of real needs of real orphans in the DRC from those working on the ground. And, there is a little boy on the other side of the world who just got a home. And he doesn't even know it yet.
And, to think, God has been orchestrating this whole thing, even amidst our frustrations and doubts. I cry out in awe of His goodness, His mercy, His faithfulness. More than anything, I hope this encourages you on your path. If we can pray for you in some way, please let us know.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The Irony of Fear
Today, a dear family friend lost his father to West Nile Virus. At 12:01 AM Paul Bellington, Sr., slipped out of his coma and went to be with the Lord. I met Mr. Bellington several times, and he was one of those older gentlemen who seemed to love life. He drove a beat-up van, wore gray hair and wrinkles, but nothing about his heart was old. He made jokes with my kids, asked questions like he was interested in the answers, and grinned from ear to ear no matter what you said. He was one of those people you just left his presence with that swollen, good-hearted, "I want to be like that guy" feeling.
We got to know Mr. Bellington through his son who shares the same name, Paul. Paul and his dad shared more than a name: they are both a complete joy to be around. Paul spent his childhood as a missionary on the Amazon River in Brazil, while his parents shared Christ in the rainforest of South America. Paul tells great stories of eating interesting rodents, catching terrible diseases, and living the vagabond life that comes with being a MK. Why? Because his father, Mr. Bellington, spent fifty years tabling his ideas of a "normal" life to share Christ with those south of our border. Every time we talked to Paul, his eighty-something-year-old dad was driving to Mexico to serve here, or back from Brazil sharing there.
That's why his death from a mosquito bite just minutes from where we live seems so devastatingly ironic. Not devastating for him . . .he is seeing Christ for the first time, basking in the glow of heaven . . .but devastating for me. I spend a great deal of my time motivated by fear. My fear is not the overt "I think I am going to have a heart attack", all-consuming terror (although I know tons of people who suffer from panic attacks that feel this way); my fear is more subtle. My fear looks more like, "Maybe I'll do that when the kids get older; what if something happened to me?" Or, "That area seems dangerous. What if I got mugged, or shot, or eaten by a bear?" Or, "Man, I really feel led to [fill-in-the-blank], but something happened to or I heard about someone who, and I just can't shake the nagging feeling . . ." Those are my fears; fears grounded in the what-ifs that stifle me from taking any step from safety. And, what's crazier? Nearly everything I fear will NEVER come to pass.
And, here is Mr. Bellington, who was moments from a mosquito bite that could give him malaria, inches from a person who had some fever or infection that may take his life, and right in the midst of unavoidable violence. Yet, the Lord protected him in that work for fifty years. He did not die from the disease and crime that are rampant in Central and South America; he died in suburban America, from exactly the same thing that may have deterred him from serving if he had let fear control his actions.
Part of me wants to say, "Now, we can't go crazy and just do dangerous things. We have a family." And, please don't get me wrong. (A) I don't want to move to a foreign country and throw all that I know here out the window. (B) I think those with minor children have some responsibility to be reasonable in their adventures. And (C) Not everyone in ministry is spared illness or death; the Lord uses all kinds of suffering to make His name known.
We got to know Mr. Bellington through his son who shares the same name, Paul. Paul and his dad shared more than a name: they are both a complete joy to be around. Paul spent his childhood as a missionary on the Amazon River in Brazil, while his parents shared Christ in the rainforest of South America. Paul tells great stories of eating interesting rodents, catching terrible diseases, and living the vagabond life that comes with being a MK. Why? Because his father, Mr. Bellington, spent fifty years tabling his ideas of a "normal" life to share Christ with those south of our border. Every time we talked to Paul, his eighty-something-year-old dad was driving to Mexico to serve here, or back from Brazil sharing there.
That's why his death from a mosquito bite just minutes from where we live seems so devastatingly ironic. Not devastating for him . . .he is seeing Christ for the first time, basking in the glow of heaven . . .but devastating for me. I spend a great deal of my time motivated by fear. My fear is not the overt "I think I am going to have a heart attack", all-consuming terror (although I know tons of people who suffer from panic attacks that feel this way); my fear is more subtle. My fear looks more like, "Maybe I'll do that when the kids get older; what if something happened to me?" Or, "That area seems dangerous. What if I got mugged, or shot, or eaten by a bear?" Or, "Man, I really feel led to [fill-in-the-blank], but something happened to or I heard about someone who, and I just can't shake the nagging feeling . . ." Those are my fears; fears grounded in the what-ifs that stifle me from taking any step from safety. And, what's crazier? Nearly everything I fear will NEVER come to pass.
And, here is Mr. Bellington, who was moments from a mosquito bite that could give him malaria, inches from a person who had some fever or infection that may take his life, and right in the midst of unavoidable violence. Yet, the Lord protected him in that work for fifty years. He did not die from the disease and crime that are rampant in Central and South America; he died in suburban America, from exactly the same thing that may have deterred him from serving if he had let fear control his actions.
Part of me wants to say, "Now, we can't go crazy and just do dangerous things. We have a family." And, please don't get me wrong. (A) I don't want to move to a foreign country and throw all that I know here out the window. (B) I think those with minor children have some responsibility to be reasonable in their adventures. And (C) Not everyone in ministry is spared illness or death; the Lord uses all kinds of suffering to make His name known.
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