What God did

I realize that it's out of the blue that I'm posting.  Or at least it probably seems that way.  But it's not.  We've been extremely busy with the life of a family with three young kids, and a papa that works a job with long (and sometimes odd) hours, and a mama that's going to school on top of keeping everything running.  We're also moving in less than a month.

These are all reasons that I haven't been blogging as much lately, but, really, there's a deeper reason.  I've been struggling with whether or not to actually keep my blog.  The memories I have recorded here are precious and I would never want to delete them, but I've been pondering for some time now if/how I can keep blogging.  It's been (getting close to) three years since we brought Levi home (???!!!!???), and these have been the most difficult three years of my life, I think.  I don't mean to say in any way that it is because of Levi.  Just that his homecoming began an extremely difficult transition from, essentially, one to three kids (I was already pregnant with Caroline when Levi came home, if you don't know that whole story).  A few months after he came home, we moved halfway across the country with a new baby and another one due in a few months.  And after Caroline was born, for half of her first year, Daniel was away at WOCS/WOBC.  And then we moved again.  And now we're moving again, 11 months later.

Those things alone would probably be overwhelming and I've come to terms with that.  But that hasn't been the hardest part of the last few years.  I struggle so hard with whether or not to write about this, because in a way it's not my story to tell.  But I also have my own story and the choices of others impact our lives deeply and that IS my story.  The other reason I feel okay about even saying anything is because this is not intended as the focus of this story, but simply as a way to broaden your understanding of my frame of mind.

A few weeks before Caroline was born, my mom decided to leave my dad. At that time, I don't think anyone had any idea how things would progress, but she needed to take a break.  It was a very difficult thing for me to process, particularly given that I was about to have a baby and I selfishly wanted Caroline to be the focus of our family, and she really couldn't be.  It was also hard because both of my parents were really hurting and processing and, frankly, unavailable to be the support system I so craved with two tiny babies (Levi was 8.5 months old when Caroline was born), especially being in a new place.

One positive was that my dad was able to stay with us for a big chunk of the time Daniel was gone for WOBC, because he took a sabbatical from work then, and his time to get away allowed him to help me with the kids. Even still, there was a lot of sadness in that visit, because the underlying reasons he was able to be with us were always just below the surface. And, well, he was pretty sad the whole time he was with us, even though he was able to hid it from the kids pretty well.

Anyway, that all is to give you a better picture of the immediate stresses and challenges we've been facing in the last three years, along with the deeper, more life changing circumstances that have caused me to do a lot of soul searching.

And all of that is by way of introduction to tell you What God Did.

We started the adoption process only a few months after we moved to Virginia in 2009.  In the almost three years we lived in Virginia, the majority of that time was spent waiting for Levi.  I thought, at the time, that the waiting for Levi was the hardest thing I'd ever done.  And, really, back then, it was.  It was a heart wrenching experience to so clearly know our calling, so desperately want to hold our baby, and yet be so powerless to bring it to fruition.  While we waited, we became more and more involved at church.  I read the Bible from cover to cover twice.  I became focused on my health and wellness in every way, but particularly spiritually.  I couldn't bring Levi home any faster than he was supposed to come, and I clung to God desperately.  I clung to the hope He promises.  I clung to Jesus. And I grew closer to Him than I'd ever been before.

That desperate feeling drew me to my Savior and I filled the empty spaces inside with supernatural hope and peace and love from Him.  At the time, it felt like a desert.  Like God wasn't answering my prayers.  But, three years later, I can look back and I can see that, in fact, it was more of a monsoon than a desert.  It was a challenging time, but it was a fruitful time.  It was a time that God was storing inside me all of the "reserves" that I'd need to make it through these years that have followed.

Being in two new states, and with two new babies, I haven't been able to really get as involved in Bible Study or church activities as I was in Virginia.  I've come to terms with the fact that with a new baby, followed immediately by a new baby, that phase of life doesn't provide much time for anything other than taking care of a baby.  The first two years, really, are a lot that way.  And we've done those years back to back.  Next month, Caroline turns two.  And we are finally starting to come out of the "trenches" of the infant years.  The kids are to the point that it's not too much for me to join a Bible Study, or to get involved in things at church.  Just two weekends ago, I was able to be part of a women's retreat at our church, where I helped lead music and was able to be there early for setting up and stayed to help clean up afterward.  It was so great to be able to be involved and to have some time to sit and listen and learn and grow and fellowship.

I also want to mention that in Colorado and here in Texas, God has brought us to churches where the preaching has been so solid, encouraging, and Biblical.  In an otherwise spiritually dry time, those weekly hours of teaching (which are not nearly enough) have helped sustain me.

It's a relatively recent revelation that I can identify that, in fact, what I thought was the desert was actually a time of preparation for the years that would follow and be the spiritual desert.  But God is good and He is bringing us out of the desert.  I think this is part of the reason that I am so looking forward to getting to Alabama.  I keep getting this confidence, this inexplicable peace that we are going to a place that is going to be restorative to us.  A place that we can grow as a family and as individuals.  I don't know what church God will bring us to in Alabama, but I'm confident that it will be a place we will be able to flourish. 

This is so much of my heart to put out there, but I feel like blogging without saying these things is inauthentic.  And if I am anything, I am authentic.  I wear my heart on my sleeve, I say how I feel, and I can't keep up a healthy "relationship" with my blog if I feel like I've hidden something or left something out of the story.  God is good.  That is my story forever.  God is good.