Happy Father's Day!

This guy.

Father and Grandfather.

Grateful.

Eyes Up

I have a great life.  I mean, really.  I don’t have much that I can complain about.  I have three amazing children; I have a great {and endlessly flexible} job; we have a fantastic new church; and late this fall, my friends and I launched a nonprofit, Pure & Faultless.  Things are very, very good.

But single parenting is hard – there are no two ways about it.  There is always something burning somewhere, some unattended need or want or “to do.”  Sacrifices are made.  Floors are dirty.  And we move on.  One of the reasons that I have been able to manage single parenthood is because I excel at task management.  Logistics are my “thing.”  I can line them up and knock them out like nobody’s business.  When the enemy wants to discourage me, the way to do so is not to send more logistics {although I’m not wonder woman; I do get tired….} but rather to get in the way of the completion of those logistics.  Don’t allow me to complete the check list or move the ball forward and I just may fall to pieces.

 Enter the last couple of months.  Starting unhappily on my birthday in mid-December, my life has been an up-side-down mess of undone or slowed tasks.  The Christmas season saw me mostly laid down, sick.  Influenza, strep throat, pink eye, …. and then my back went out.   Wonderful.  {sarcasm font}  In the midst of all of that, my very reliable Honda minivan decided to become unreliable and spend a week in the shop.  Logistical nightmare!

 Then it was time to prepare for Haiti. What an amazing trip in a gorgeous country visiting a fantastic ministry! We got home Tuesday night. By Wednesday around 5, it started.The nausea. The general upset. The intestinal rumbling. And then the never ending trips to the toilet. This went on for three full days through Saturday night. In the midst of it, I was tired, laid down and no-fun-at-all. Again! I was way past my close to my breaking point when I reached out for prayer and BAM. Done. Over. Thank God.  {prayer works; so does Cipro}

 As soon as that settled down, the snow started.  And it didn’t stop.  The news reports we got 19 inches.  Um, yeaaaa.  If 19 inches covers my children…. standing.  Either we got more at our house or my home is the apex for circling, blowing snow.   There is a lot of snow.  Nevertheless, this morning I popped up, got showered and dressed, cleaned off the back steps, and went to the van to go pick up our nanny whose car on the street was completely buried.  19 inches.  I very skillfully pulled it out of the garage and stuck it permanently in our alley.  No inch forward; no inch backward. 

 Have you ever heard the phrase “last straw?”  Yep.  That was it.  Right there in my vacant van I had a complete and total meltdown.  Whyyyyyy????  Oh woe is meeeeeee!!!  Someone hellllllp meeeee!!!  {crickets}  Yea, no one was quite as foolish as I was, so with the kids safely inside like all normal people, I spent 3 hours 20 minutes digging, salting, propping, rocking, digging some more, and eventually moving my van back inside the garage.  There would be no nanny today and no work from my office.  Wonderful.  Again.

In the midst of all of these gigantic pretty minor trials of late, I started to feel discouraged.  If only I had a husband to tackle some of this with me.  If only there was someone else around to play with the kids when I’m laid up forever for a season.  If only there was someone to hold me while I sobbed about just feeling like things are a little bit harder these days.  If only.

But in that same moment, I heard my very own voice speaking to myself what God had given me in the fall:  Eyes Up.  Eyes up, when your feelings get hurt.  Eyes up, when you face temporary impediments.  Eyes up, when the attacks come.  Eyes up, in praise!  Eyes up, when your first born brings out argument 287 for the day.  Just, eyes up. So we march forward.  Apparently healthy and now drowning in snow.  But eyes up.  Spring is just around the corner.

Should Singles Adopt?

Earlier this week I listened to a podcast about whether single people (most assuredly focused on single women) should adopt children who need a family.  The podcast was a replay of an open discussion on Moody radio last Saturday, May 3, 2014.  In it, a single adoptive mother (Julia Duin) gently and respectfully sparred with Keith MacFarland who believes that single men and women should not adopt.  This is my response.

There are many reasons that a family may choose to adopt.

Much of the podcast focused on the idea that a single-parent home is better than no parent at all.  It is tempting to engage in this analysis given the breath-taking statistics counting the number of orphans in need of families worldwide (ranging anywhere from 18 million to 170 million).  So the argument goes – children need a family and if no two parent family is available, a single mother is better than nothing. 

This is not why I adopted my children.  I didn’t adopt because some altruistic drive told me that my kiddos would perish without me (although one of them surely would have) or because I thought I was "better than nothing."  No, I adopted my children because I believed then and I still believe now that I can provide them with a healthy, safe, vibrant, Christian family.  God and I had endless discussions about whether adoption while single was right for me and together, we decided that it was.  It’s that simple. 

The argument that any family is better than no family is a bit of a straw man.  The correct focus should be on the fact that we live in a broken world.  There is no perfect family.  My family is not perfect – far from it!  Whether it’s my tendency to raise my voice or the lack of an in-residence father figure, we miss the mark.  But so does every family I know.  Because we are no longer living in the Garden of Eden, every family falls short.  Were it not the case, widows should be concerned that their children will be ruined (not because of a tragic death but because they lack one parent).  Overweight, gossiping, adulterous, slandering, angry, pornography viewing men and women also should not become parents.  Because they are not “perfect.”  And the staggering divorce rate means that half of our church members are going to parent alone at some point during the primary parenting years.  This reality is reflective of the brokenness that permeates all families.  Yours and mine. 

Instead of arguing about whether my family is perfect, I embrace that it is not.  And so do my children.  We know that we don’t have a dad.  {gasp}  We talk about it.  We pray about it as a family.  We know that no matter what the future holds for us, God will provide.  He always does.  The healthiest families I know also embrace their brokenness.  They understand the neurosis that permeates their genealogy or the sins that have passed from one generation to the next.  They speak openly about them, pray about them, and trust in God.  Our family operates with this same healthy attitude toward our brokenness.

There are a variety of motives in play when it comes to adopting a child.

Mr. MacFarland suggested during the podcast that single parents do not have pure motives for adopting and further that only in the case where a parent is really called to adopt should they proceed.  Ouch.  This one hurt.  No one questions the motives of married parents for expanding their family – only the motives of single parents are doubted.  Why did you (married couple) have your first child?  Was it to fill a void?  Carry on your gene pool?  To allow you to stay home instead of working outside the home?  To make you happy?  And why did you have your fourth child?  Wasn’t three enough?  Why did you adopt your second child?  These are questions that the average married couple never face.  And yet, somewhere along the way the Church decided that it is okay to ask these questions of a single woman who chooses to adopt.  I object.

There are many, many reasons that people choose to grow their families, whether through child-birth or adoption.  The fact that we (church) think we need to weigh in on those motivations, which are really between the parent(s) and the Lord, is ludicrous.  Any family who is adopting or expanding their family should count the cost.  We worship the Lord with our heart, souls, and minds.  (Luke 10:27)  Have you done that?  Further, have we arrived at a place where we believe that even in the face of wrongly motivated decisions that God could not redeem those decisions?  I’m not there.  And I hope you’re not either. 

Mr. MacFarland allowed that a single person could adopt a child if she was really called by God.  Was I “really” called?  I guess.  I’m not sure how to answer that question.  I know that the Lord was very clear throughout my adoptions.  He spoke; I listened.  If that means I was called, then so be it.  But who gets to decide whether another person has been called?  Isn’t that something they will have to take up with their maker at Judgment Day? 

As for me, I had many reasons for adopting and they were different for each of my children.  My first adoption was born out of a desire to be a parent – a desire which God confirmed would be met through the miracle of adoption.  My daughter (number two) came to me after God spoke a word in the most unlikely of places, straight to my heart:  “She is your daughter.”  Whoa.  While I wrestled with that for weeks (more for health reasons than for the fact of a second adoption), I know in my heart that God spoke those words and that He intended Leah for my family.  Last, the three of us were a well-functioning {and healthy, I might add} family unit when my son began to pray, unprompted, for an older brother.  Initially, I thought he was crazy and believed that there was one more, younger child for our family.  Instead, Seth was right and his big brother came to us through more miraculous, God-ordained moments. 

Were my motivations pure?  Was I called?  I’m not sure what that means or who gets to decide, but I don’t believe that my motives were all that different than most parents who seek to grow their family:  love.

Let’s stop making decisions for people that should be left up to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

Last, it’s a bit ironic that the podcast ends with the host admonishing listeners as follows:  “We do need to look to scripture for our Biblical model of care . . . the best family that God intended from the beginning includes one mother and one father.”  The irony stems from the fact that not once – in a fifty minute discussion – did the host or either participant mention scripture in defending their position.  The most that was said is that “God created Adam and Eve.”  Never discussed was James 1:27 instructing all believers to care for widows and orphans.  Moreover, where scripture is silent on an issue (as it is on single parenting) believers are guided by the wisdom of the Holy Spirit.  John 14:26; John 16:13.

Our blanket statements can cause more harm than good.

The Bible is full of people who minister from broken places.  Whether it was Ruth (the widow) or King David (adulterer with multiple wives) or Bathsheba (King David’s mistress) or Tamar (the widow prostitute) or Abraham, Moses and Jacob (each polygamists) or a host of others in Jesus’ genealogy, our Father in heaven is notorious for using humans in their brokenness. 

I worry that in our haste to make public proclamations about our “stance” on single-parent adoption we are inadvertently {or ignorantly} sending a message to millions of women around the world.  The message is this:  Your families are not healthy.  You are not enough.  Although you are trying, you will never measure up to a two family home.  You are deficient and need a man to be legitimate. 

This pains me.  Instead of worrying about the decisions of others {that might actually result in a child living within a loving family} the church ought to be spending its time working on supporting single mothers in their community whether they came to that life position by choice or by circumstance.  Rather than standing in judgment of their family, we have an opportunity to love and provide male (and female) role models.  We can be the village that so many children (single parented or not) need from the church.  Instead of casting the first stone (John 8:7), let’s support those women who are putting their hope and trust firmly in the Word where it states, “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling.”  Psalm 68:5.  Amen?

Heard around our hood.... on Daddy

We spent father's day at my parent's house, enjoying my dad and my brother Dave.  I am so thankful for the role that each of them plays in my kids' life.  SO thankful.

Until God brings us our own Daddy, we have them.

And Uncle Joel, Uncle Tim, Uncles Matt, Jake, Jim, George, . . . .

 

 Happy father's day, and thank you, to ALL of them.

 

Last night at bedtime, Seth and I were talking about "getting married."

He seemed to have some misguided notion about marriage.... including that it "hurts" and could kill you.  As quick as I was to jump to thinking he might need some serious counseling (ha ha ha), Seth got up and found a red, plastic heart in his room.  The heart has an arrow through it, representing Cupid's arrow of love.

Oh.my.word.

 

Seth thought that getting married meant that you get hit by an arrow and die.

I almost died of laughter -- which I held in . . . mostly.

 

I spent some time talking to Seth about marriage and who we know that is married.

Papa and Grandma

Aunt Lisa and Uncle Tim

Aunt Holly and Uncle Jim

Miss Julie and Mr. Holt

The list goes on.

 

I wasn't really sure he grasped it.

 

Then there was this morning, completely out of the blue:

 

Seth:  "Mom, I want you to marry a boy!"

 

"Seth, I think that's a great idea!  Let's pray for that!!"

 

Seth:  "Zechariah, WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A DADDY!!!!"

 

Oh dear.  Your prayers for speed on this one are MUCH appreciated!!



Things I've learned since becoming a {single} parent

   Patience is a virtue.  You can never have enough patience.  While God has certainly grown my capacity for patience since becoming a mother five years ago, it’s never quite enough to cover the 200^th “why” question of the day.  Or to ignore the 10^th toy you’ve tripped over.  Patience is a virtue…. and one of which I *always* need more.

  Love multiplies.  Exponentially.  My love for Seth has done nothing but grow since he came home on November 16, 2007.  I think most of us would expect that.  But what is unexpected is how love multiplies.  Now, with three kids, I have three times the love walkin’ around outside of my body.  It’s incredible!  And it grows.  Daily.  

   Love is a choice.  Bonding doesn’t always happen immediately with your kiddos – whether adopted or born of your body.  I’ve had friends tell me that they have nothing in common with their biological child and difficulties bonding with him/her.  Also true in adoption.  But, see number 2:  love grows.  With all three of my kiddos, I love them more today than yesterday.  I expect to love them more tomorrow.  I pray so.

      Yelling accomplishes little.  When you up the ante, so do the kids.  Whispering is far more effective but a million times harder.  For me.

      Kids learn from you.  I know this is obvious, but it becomes painfully so when you are a parent.  My kids mimic nearly everything I do.  Talk about intimidating!  And, see number 4, they tend to mimic the things you would rather they NOT mimic.  Nothing breaks my heart more than hearing Seth yell at his siblings…. Because he heard me do the same to him.  Ugh.

      Kids listen.  An obvious theme of our family is adoption and caring for kids without parents.  The good part about this is that my kids have HUGE hearts for kids who need mamas.  Unfortunately, this means I get bombarded by them nearly every day begging for another child to be added to our family.  But I’m done.  We are full. 

      Older is wiser.  I’m very thankful that I waited to have my kids until I was a bit older.  Sure, I would have had more energy to chase them when I was 25, but instead, I had the chance to learn from others’ parenting what I wanted to do and not to do.  I had a chance to live out my life as a single woman before bringing on the responsibility of kiddos.  My age has been a blessing.  

      Parenting is hard.  Especially single parenting.  What job is right; which house to purchase; how to save for college; how many activities are too many; need a tutor?; school selections; church choices; discipline techniques; dating….  And the list goes on.  Parenting with two adults is hard enough.  Making all of those decisions alone can be daunting.  Don’t enter single parenting lightly.  It’s a big job.  

      Time management is paramount.  Finding the time to parent, have a job, keep up a house, exercise, attend a Life Group, and be a grown up every so often is work.  Managing “free time” in your day is key.  Can you read on the train to work?  Does quiet time need to happen before the kids are up or after they are down?  Can you grocery shop while one child is at ballet (thus making it easier since you have two rather than three with you)?  Can you change batteries {in innumerable toys} while the spaghetti water is heating to a boil?  Can you answer six emails while the babies are putting on their jammies and brushing their teeth?  

    Comparing never ends well.  My kids are not like anyone else’s, so don’t bother with the comparison game.  It’s not worth it and only leads to frustration, competition or worse.  My children are all beautifully and wonderfully made.  Full stop.

    Your kids will hurt you.  I don’t think they mean to, at this age, but one day they may.  Zechariah asking to go back to Uganda {every day} drives a knife into my gut.  I try to remember he is adjusting and it’s not personal, but remember number 2?  He’s already part of my heart outside my body.  Love is beautiful and it can hurt too.  

    Forgiveness is ready.  I screw up with my kids . . . a lot.  I need forgiveness . . . a lot.  At least with my kids, forgiveness comes fast and easy.  When I raise my voice {number 4}, whether necessary or not, I often beat myself up far longer than my kids even appear to remember it.  Having said that, Lord help me not to abuse their forgiveness because, as we all know, they will sit in a therapy chair about it one day.  Ha!

     My attitudes about food will be passed along.  I’ve noticed that what I say and do with food, my children say/do about food.  Just yesterday I heard Zechariah telling Seth, “If you don’t try new things, you won’t know whether you like them.”  Huh.  Wonder where he heard that one?!?!  I already feel worried about my gorgeous daughter and what jacked up warped ideas she may get about her body from this society.  I pray that God will help me instill healthy exercise/food priorities in my kids starting now.  

  It's not about me.    And yet, it is.  Parenting, for me, as been one of the most refining things in my life.  I have to constantly evaluate myself, my choices, and my behavior.  I see myself in them -- the good, the bad, and even the ugly.  God made me a mother so I could learn how to die to myself every.single.day.  And in a sense, making it all the more for HIS glory and my submission.  Even still, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat, if He asked me to.

Disclaimer:  This was something fun for me to write…. for ME.  If you are taking it personally or making it about you, you have misinterpreted what I was trying to do here.  I’m not sending a message to anyone and not talking about anyone but me and my family.  Okay?  Okay!

The Daddy Question -- at last

He has lived with me for almost five years.

He knows who is in our family.... and who is not.

He is well aware of plenty of "daddys" in the world around him including my dad, his cousins' dads, and dads of friends at church.

And yet Seth has never said a word about a dad.

Even Leah calls her Daddy on the phone a few times a week, helping me to see and understand how she is processing our family.

But Seth?  Not so much.

Until Sunday.

The kids and I were in Walgreens as I was getting ready to leave for Chile.

As we walked through the store -- out of the blue -- Seth said, "Mom, why don't we have a Daddy in our family?"

I froze.

People were around.

I turned to him, got down on his level, and asked, "What did you say, buddy?"

"Why we not have a daddy?"

I took a deep breath, pit firmly in control of my stomach, and told Seth I would be happy to talk to him about that question in the car as soon as the shopping was done.

He accepted that response and skipped off to find a treat.

By the time we got to the van a few minutes later, he might have forgotton.  But I told him we would discuss it, so we did.

"Seth, you asked Mommy a great question and I want to answer.  We don't have a daddy because God hasn't brought us one yet.  I think that's a great thing for us to pray about, don't you?"

"Yea," he answered, not making eye contact.

And that was it.

I could breathe again a few minutes later, but I know "the hard" is coming more often and soon.

Lord, prepare me.  Give me Your words.

In Jesus' name....