Blessings and Raindrops

seeking joy in the midst of the ordinary

two things i’m loving today.

1. THIS song. the words are the prayer of my heart today…

And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours, and You are mine


Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me 
You’ve never failed, and You won’t start now


Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior 

2. the snail mail project.

have you heard of it? beth had this brilliant idea to encourage one another. to walk alongside the hurting. check it out and join in. you will be blessed through blessing others, promise.

where we are.

We’re still waiting to hear news from DGM. As of now, the exit permit suspension is still in effect for up to 12 months. That’s all we know. 
That leaves us waiting and praying. 
{Not unlike the past two years of this journey}. 
So much of the international adoption process is completely out of our control – I think that’s why God is able to be so clearly in the forefront of our stories as adoptive families. We have to trust. We have to surrender control. We have to fix our eyes upon Jesus and stand firm in our faith even when everything else is unclear. 
The other night, I woke up around 3am and felt a gentle nudge in my heart to focus on the good. To focus on His faithfulness in this journey. That’s what I’m choosing to do today. 
I’m choosing to be thankful that our I-600 was approved and our case is en route to the Embassy in Kinshasa for our investigation to begin. 
I’m choosing to be thankful for the next stage of this process to begin, even if I do not have any timelines to plan for or holidays to envision as a family of five. 
Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed. {Habakkuk 2:3}
I’m choosing to remember how God has provided every penny for this adoption – most of the time in the exact amount, at the exact time we needed it. 
I’m choosing to remember all of the encouraging cards, emails, text messages and voicemails from friends near and far. Words of hope when I needed them the most.
I’m choosing to remember the keeper of the storehouse of snow who chose to shower me in white flurries last May just to remind me how big He is and how dearly my S is loved. 
Or the rainbows He has placed in the sky when I simply needed to lift my eyes. 
I’m choosing to remember the verse He directed me to and affirmed moments later as Beth Moore read the exact verse from the stage where she spoke.
There is wonderful joy ahead, even though it is necessary for you to endure many trials for a while. 
{1 Peter 1:6}
I’m choosing to remember the One who called us to this path. He is faithful and good. S is His beloved daughter. We will continue to wait for her to be in our arms. We will continue to pray and hope. 
And, just because. A few more beach photos I had to share…because you can’t tell me that a little girl with curly hair and big, brown eyes and a smile that lights up the room wouldn’t fit just perfectly with this crazy crew. 🙂

The joy of the LORD is your strength. 
{Nehemiah 8:10}

caught off guard.

When I posted on Friday afternoon I was writing from a place of peacefulness and gratitude.

Shortly after hitting publish, my world was rocked. As we sat down to enjoy our last meal together at the beach, I noticed all of the missed calls and texts and FB messages as my phone lit up continuously. 
The state department had posted this alert. 

Alert: Democratic Republic of the Congo Immigration Authorities Suspend Issuance of Exit Permits to Adoptees

I literally felt the waves come crashing down around me while uncertainty and confusion swirled. The immigration authorities in the DRC announced a suspension of Exit Permits to adoptees for up to 12 months. 

To say that I was in shock is an understatement. I cried and cried and eventually just felt numb. I was in a haze of confusion, anger, despair and sorrow. It wasn’t pretty. 
I wish I could say that I felt the quiet assurance of trust that God is in control even in this situation. But, I didn’t. Not at first. When I first heard this news, all I felt was fear. 
After dinner, I found a quiet spot and opened the study I had been prompted to dust off the shelf…Always True; God’s Promises When Life is Hard by James Macdonald.
I opened to where I had left off and saw these words of hope and truth:

Macdonald’s words echoed my heartache, “Christians don’t generally set out to doubt God. We don’t question our faith without reason. Life’s pain or unexpected questions simply catch us off guard.“

That was me: caught off guard.

Tossing in the waves, feeling hopeless. As James wrote, “The one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.” {Jas. 1:6} There was no denying that I was being tossed by the wind, grasping for breath.

“The Lord promises that if we trust in him with all our heart, if we do not lean on our own understanding, and if we acknowledge HIm in all our ways, He will make our paths smooth. {Proverbs 3:5-6} God will pave the way for us.” – James Macdonald

I read those two sentences over and over. I tried to pray but all I could muster was a simple, sincere, cry out to my Heavenly Father,

“Jesus, make a way where I can’t see a way.“

I wrote that little pray in my journal and felt peace envelop me.

“You keep him in perfect peace 
whose mind is stayed on you, 
because he trusts in you.”  {Isaiah 26:3}
Today, there are still no answers. Uncertainty continues to loom ahead like a dark cloud. Yet, I am at peace.

I am trusting that God; the One who called us to this place, the One who has provided time and again, the One that has affirmed our path over and over; will move in a mighty way.

He will protect the children who are waiting and praying for a family.
He will hold each and every orphaned child in our daughter’s country in His loving embrace.
He will command His angel armies to surround the orphanages and the foster homes where these children are living.
He will protect them from illness and pain.
He will bring them home to the mommas and daddies and brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and nanas and papas that are waiting and loving them from afar.

Hope will rise.

And, in the meantime, I will continue to meet with my other waiting mommas after we tuck our littles in at night. We will continue to hold hands under the stars and pray. We will continue to cry out to our Abba Father and ask that He protect our babies. We will continue to hold a vigil of prayer and trust. We will keep our eyes on Him.

Our Hope. Our Redeemer. Our Comforter. Our Ever Present Help in times of trouble.

Joseph replied, 
“Don’t be afraid. Do I act for God? Don’t you see, you planned evil against me but God used those same plans for my good, as you see all around you right now — life for many people. Easy now, you have nothing to fear; I’ll take care of you and your children.” 
He assured them, speaking with them heart-to heart. {Genesis 50: 19-21 MSG}

slowing down.

Lately, I’ve been craving quiet. Stillness.

This week, I find myself soaking up moments with my little family. 
Feeling nostalgic. 
Taking mental snapshots of these days. The boys at this age. 

Reflecting on how quickly time passes as we watch our children grow.  


Feeling changes on the horizon. 
I feel a need to just duck away for awhile. Hold my little cubs close. Not let go because I need to get up and check an email or answer a phone call or check another item off of my never-ending, ever-demanding to-do list. 
Just sit and hold them. 
Linger. Read more books together. 
Sit on the floor and help them build a train out of legos. 
Stop. Slow down. Rest. 
Knowing this season in my life is coming to a close.
Hopeful that I can accept each moment with gratitude as we step away from this place of beauty and awe and back into everyday life. Prayerful that I can remember the lessons learned this week away. Here, at the edge of the sea. Where I have learned more about the need to be still. To relinquish the guilt of constant striving.

Very thankful for this week of rest with the people I love most. At the same time, aching with the void that can only be filled with our daughter’s presence here.

Most of all, desperately trying to embrace every bit of this final chapter as a family of four.