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Thanks for all the love and encouragement. I look forward to more discussion…

One of the most important spiritual truths I have learned during the transition with our daughter since her homecoming is that discipline, when intended to provide opportunity for growth and maturity, is only effective if it is followed by a reconnecting of the parent and child.

I should have known this before, and most likely I did practice it with my other kids…but it wasn’t intentional – instead, it was just natural. After bringing Sage home, I have found that very little in our love is natural and almost everything is intentional. Don’t read this the wrong way – this isn’t a negative thing. In fact, I have found some of my sweetest moments with her during the times that we are both working hard at being ‘intentionally in-love.’

After four months of this working out of our love, it has become such a deep-seeded part of who we both are, it’s hard to imagine a time when I didn’t love her  – It’s hard to remember the days before Sage.

All sweetness aside, admittedly, the greatest parenting challenges have come in the form of discipline. It doesn’t matter if it’s my 10 year old or my 3 year old – discipline kicks my butt.

It seems I am either dishing out my share of justice and penance while full of frustration and steeped in weariness, or when I am half-heartedly committed to keeping the perpetrator accountable with the punishment. Example here: I administer a grounding, only to realize that I REALLY want to let them go to that friends house and enjoy some childhood perks. I can be firm but compassionate and frankly, sometimes the compassion makes me soft…but I don’t mind having a marshmallow-like heart if it reassures my kids that I love them. If God can let King Ahab live, I can revoke my sentence every once in a while. (There’s a little self-defense bubbling over here…)

But since we’ve brought Sage home, everything I do must be intentional. I am constantly checking myself to make sure that I have administered the same degree of punishment to her that I would the other kids for the same behavior. I am always checking to make sure I haven’t set the bar of expectation too high that I am setting her up for failure. I am constantly second guessing myself, wondering if I have doomed our relationship forever.

There have been many times when I leave her room short of breath, worn out from the argument that ensued, desperate for her to understand and knowing that every adoption book out there would be telling me I stink. Sometimes, I stand outside her doorway and peep back in, begging her to stop crying so that we can move on from this chapter in our day and move into the next phase, because it’s the next phase that I have learned to love so much.

It’s when parent and child are able to show one another that we are here together for good.

It’s the post-discipline hug. When her tears have stopped and I have wiped them away. When we have both agreed to what the offense was and talked about how it could be avoided (such discussions take place in broken bits of english and lots of pantomime gestures) and there is nothing else to do except embrace.

Oh my, how I love those big hugs from a little girl.

It’s like the slate is clean. We have made it through another trial and it hasn’t broken us apart. We have a new understanding about the character of each other.

She still accepts my embrace.

And as she wraps her little arms around my neck and whispers I love you, I think to myself. “The Lord disciplines those He loves.” (Prov 2.12, Heb 12.6) And, OH, my, how I love you.

And how He loves us.

There is no doubt that the period immediately following our acceptance of his correction and the time that we turn to Him to tell Him we still love Him, isn’t some of the sweetest moments He has as our heavenly father.

This morning, I found myself wondering how many times I haven’t run back to him after He has corrected me…are there times when I failed to take advantage of His outstretched arms? I mean really, how silly would I have to be to run past Him and back into the helter-skelter schedule of my everyday.

Not too long ago, after a heavy discussion between my oldest son and I, I sat back and wondered if I was too hard on him. I second-guessed everything I said and even asked another of my sons what he thought. He agreed. I was headed back downstairs to apologize when my oldest son met me in the classroom and threw his arms around me, holding on for dear life. I couldn’t breathe because he clung so tight. “Everything you said was true, Mom.” And he continued to tell me about what was going on in his heart, some of the struggles he felt inside and how they were coming through his words and actions in ways that were not pretty.

That precious glance at his heart wouldn’t have happened had I not stood with courage to correct him. It’s hard on us both, necessary for growth and maturity, but is at it’s finest if followed by a reconnection between parent and child–God and child.

Just my incomplete and unprofessional thoughts on a Friday.

Disclaimer: I am open to rebuke and criticism and am currently praying through both! I am not disillusioned to think that I can can do everything…or even that I should.

You probably already knew this and I am late in the game, but why is it that discouragement sticks around longer than encouragement? Is it because my ears are tuned and my heart lacks the confidence needed to pull the weeds discouragement sews?

And when I want to encourage you, but aren’t sure it’s going to make it through all the static of discouragement, what should I do? How should I get the message across? It’s too bad I don’t have my bullhorn because that would spice things up immediately. I could start with something like this:

“HEY! HEY YOU IN THE POLKA DOT SHIRT AND PINK SHORTS! I JUST WANT TO LET YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE PRETTY ROCKIN’ AWESOME AND THAT IF I HAD MY WAY, I’D MAKE YOU PRESIDENT AND AFTER THAT I WOULD BAKE YOU A BATCH OF MY MOST FAVORITE COOKIES AND BRING THEM TO THE WHITE HOUSE BECAUSE THAT’S JUST HOW SPECIAL I THINK YOU ARE.

I PRETTY MUCH THINK YOUR POTENTIAL IS LIMITLESS. I DO. AND WHEN I LOOK UP ‘POTENTIAL’ IN THE DICTIONARY, I SEE YOUR PICTURE NEXT TO IT. WHEN I LOOK UP ‘SUCCESS,’ I SEE A COMPUTER RENDERING OF YOUR FACE IN THE FUTURE. ARE YOU LISTENING? CAN YOU BURY THIS DOWN DEEP IN YOUR HEART SO THAT DISCOURAGEMENT COMES, YOU CAN REMEMBER. ACTUALLY…HERE…LET ME GIVE YOU A COPY OF MY DICTIONARY. THAT MAY HELP. DON’T MIND PAGE 902 AND PAGE 1178. I HAD TO GLUE YOUR PICTURE IN, YOU KNOW, AND SOME OF THE PAGES STUCK TOGETHER.”

I can’t believe you just read all that.

But that would be me with the bullhorn and you with the polka dot shirt and pink shorts — and the cookies and dictionary, too. I would really want to encourage you in such a way as though you might never forget it. I would want to let you know how precious and wonderful you are and how much potential you were given in your single pinky finger.

But you know what happened? Someone stole my crazy bullhorn. Or someone crazy stole my bullhorn. In fact, just last week I heard them yelling this through the loud speaker, only made more obnoxious by the sounding of the fog-horn (just to make sure I was tuned in):

“HEY! LISTEN, I REALLY NEED YOU TO SLOW DOWN AND WAKE UP. ACTUALLY, WAKE UP FIRST AND THEN SLOW DOWN THAT WAY WHEN YOU PARK YOUR REAR-END IN THE LAND OF PURPOSELESSNESS AND DEPRESSION, YOU ARE OUT OF MY WAY AND I CAN PASS.

I FEEL IT IS MY CIVIC DUTY TO LET YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE NOT LOOKING AT YOUR REALITY. THIS IS NOT YOUR SEASON. THIS IS NOT YOUR CALLING RIGHT NOW. THIS IS CRAZINESS. HAVEN’T YOU SEEN THE RESPONSIBILITIES YOU HAVE AND THE WORK THE LORD HAS PUT BEFORE YOU NEEDS TO WAIT. SLOW DOWN, NELLY. STOP BURNIN’ THE RUBBER ON MY DRIVEWAY. QUIT CHEWIN’ AT THE BIT TO GET FREE. SOMEDAY, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO WALK IN THE WAYS OF THE LORD, BUT RIGHT NOW ALL HIS DIRECTION SIGNS ARE POINTING FOR YOU TO EITHER TURN AROUND OR PULL OVER. DON’T GET CARRIED AWAY. GOD DOESN’T WANT YOU TO GET CARRIED AWAY.”

I want my bullhorn back.

But since I can’t compete with the booming voice of discouragement, I started to think of how God communicated encouragement through the scriptures and I realized, the only way to compete with someone yelling loudly through all creation is to walk up to that individual, touch their elbow gently so they know you are near, and whisper in their ear. “You can do it, sweetie. Come. Follow. I’ll show you the way.”

Which is how Samuel was called. Adam was called. And Elijah heard the voice of God. One on one, no bullhorn required. God’s presence rustled through the foliage in the Garden. It gently broke through the dream-filled sleep of a little boy. It met a man on the top of a mountain.

So whisper to me, please, Lord. And to the hearts of other women. Remind us why we are called your daughters. Remind us of what is true. And while I can do without the bullhorn, feel free to deliver some double chocolate chip and andes mint cookies to my house–it’s the brown colonial on the corner.

Just returned home from Lifeway’s Women’s Leadership Forum and ‘wow’ is all I can manage at the moment. I’ll attempt to process the gems I learned over the next few weeks.

That said, I am shifting this blog from the adoption of our daughter (who is doing AMAZING by the way)…to the wait I am currently in with God. It looks something like this:

I am called.
I am willing.
I am waiting.
I am preparing.

Aren’t we all?

So here’s my desire–let’s wait and prepare together. I listened to Margaret Feinberg speak about her new book endeavor, Scouting the Divine, in which she followed a shepherdess from Oregon, a vintner from California, a farmer from Nebraska, and a bee-keeper from Colorado.

This is what she said of the vineyards:

The shoots of a grapevine are planted. In the first year they are pruned delicately. The second year they are again pruned back. The third year, the vine bears grapes that are not picked, but allowed to stay on the vine and wither. The fourth year the grapes are harvested and then the fruit of that labor is not tasted until year seven.

What really blew my mind is that a vineyard does not expect to turn a profit for sixteen or more years if all goes as planned.

That’s dedication!

So here I am…dedicated to my calling alongside God. I am currently writing two separate studies, getting more intimate with the giver of purpose…and am pretty sure I’m still being pruned.

Share the journey with me? What God’s leading is in your life? We have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Join Me.

I try to explain this thing called attachment disorder and am certain I fail miserably. It’s strange to have to tell people we know and love, “I’m sorry. Could you not touch my daughter? Maybe not even look at her?” It feels rude and disrespectful to my friendships. Sometimes I feel overbearing and like part of me is jealous for Sage’s attention, affection.

But really, I just never know how it’s all going to wash out. Maybe she’ll get a hug from a stranger and be fine…looking for me…wanting to see me again. Or maybe not—it’s more likely that she’ll think you are the coolest thing since sliced bread and become convinced she wants to go home with YOU and not me. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about.

To humor myself I’ve given this phenomenon a name: Mommy Shopping. It’s the American Way. Perhaps she recognizes that she’s come to a single income household where the fridge is sometimes empty and the paycheck is sometimes gone and she’s caught on to the more is more idea behind our culture. She’s smart. It’s a possibility.

Or maybe she’s so confused as to why she has stability again in her life. Or maybe she misses the rotation of caregivers in her world—those 12 hour shifts in the orphanages did have their perks such as a refreshed face and a filled tank of patience.

Perhaps she knows something is missing in my life, such as sleep. And is compassionate enough to want to give me a few days off by leaving with a different family.

There’s no telling.

But we love each other. And that’s really what matters right now. She does adore me when we’re home together and I do adore her 90% of our waking hours.

My favorite moments in the past month:

1. Realizing that this little girl has reminded me that love is a choice in ALL my relationships. I have learned how to be less ‘me’ focused and more in tune with my behavior mirroring my desired emotions. If that makes sense.
2. In the mornings she’s SO happy to see me. Like she’s been in a magical world of dreams and can’t wait to tell me about it. Except it’s mostly in Amharic and I don’t know what she’s saying yet.
3. Having someone on my heels all the time is so much fun. She loves to hang the wash, cook dinner, clean the floors, and put away laundry with me.
4. Watching daddy have a daughter. That’s awesome.
5. Realizing that God chose her for our family with perfection. I know someday I’ll take her back to meet her Birth Mom, but right now, it sure is wonderful to have her here with us. I do love her greatly.

The Hardest Things of the Past Month?

1. I forgot to enjoy Silas as the baby before I left for Ethiopia. I hadn’t anticipated his feelings of being ‘grown up’ and really love the small snuggle times we still get together. On the flip-side…I sometimes hate that I haven’t had good snuggle time with Sage. Because she’s so busy and toddler-ish, she doesn’t sit very long and is resistant to TRUE snuggle time unless she wants something (ie. it’s bedtime and she doesn’t want to be alone, THEN she’ll want to snuggle. She knows how much I value her hugs and kisses and can easily convince me to stay.)

2. I haven’t battled with my kids before in this sort of way. She’s strong and determined and will rip off her Sunday dress in the blink of an eye. I forget that she doesn’t have a need to please me and make me happy…and so I am learning to get outside myself and offer choices, independence, etc. It’s been good for me.

3. She wanders. Again because she doesn’t feel the need for proximity to us yet. I can’t leave her outside with the boys to play without an adult because it’s nothing for her to decide to go across the street (the grass is greener, you know) and Boom! she’s gone.

4. Indiscriminate affection with strangers really hurts my heart. Sometimes I wish I was that stranger. Even in the care center, she knew the routine: Families came in, one day it was going to be hers, she was going to leave, and therefore was prepared to reject us. I really can’t wait for the day she consistently places my role in her life as an important one that can’t be replaced. Likewise, the days she plants kisses on my cheeks only because she wants to and not because I asked for one – those make me smile inside and out.

Here are some pics from our first month together. Enjoy. Thanks to everyone who helped bring her home to us.

I can’t believe we leave tomorrow! Nathan, the boys, and I went out for dinner the other night for father’s day and I thought, “Whoa. The next time we share a meal together, it will be with her.” Sweet.

God’s so huge, by the way. He provided up until the very end and do you know what the coolest thing is? I finally knew that he would. I knew what our need was and this time I didn’t fret and worry and question where it was coming from. I just figured He’d provide if it was really a need.

And He did.

Wow, He loves His people.

When we come home, I pray he gives Nathan and I hands, feet, and hearts like yours. You all have all been so wonderful to us.

The biggest question seems to be: What does your schedule look like?

Here’s a rundown:

-Leave D.C. Tuesday!
-Get into Amsterdam at 3pm Wednesday. Chill in Amsterdam for a whole 20 hours. Woohoo!
-Leave Amsterdam 11:30 Thursday and get into Addis 10pm on Thursday night. It’ll be afternoon here.
-Sleep. (yeah right.)
-Go to orientation Friday and pray that I have the patience to listen because afterwards…..

- We meet Sage on Friday morning!

-Saturday we play at care center and get to know our daughter.
-Sunday we head to her village to perhaps meet her mother.
-Monday we leave the village and go back to the capital city.
-Tuesday is our visa appointment. We also take custody of Sage this afternoon.
-Wednesday is a chill day at the hotel.
-Thursday we go pick up her visa and begin the flight home that night.
-Friday, we get to kiss and hug our sons who I already miss like mad.
-Saturday: Day #1 as a post-adoptive family. Let the transition begin.

What has been the most surprising part so far? The amount of time it has taken to prepare paperwork for travel. I have a huge binder I’m taking and it has required hours of preparation. Also, the peace I have considering I haven’t written or done any work now in almost three weeks. Normally, I have major creativity withdrawal. But I’m doing alright. But the biggest surprise has been Nathan’s anxiety in leaving the boys. If you have a moment to pray for him – he’s fearful of all the unknowns with our travel.

Thank you, my sweet, sweet, family and friends. You are the creme de la creme of the earth’s people. I can’t believe how blessed we are to know you all.

We are working on implementing a new ‘date night’ here at the Green house. That’s right folks, Dominic is old enough to start dating – his mom.

Nathan and I watched a family in Rapid date each of their kids and LOVED the idea. It was sweet and really allowed time for connection as well as teach them appropriate behavior in a date-type setting.

So, as I’m trying to put my date with Dominic on the calendar, I realize that this is going to be a very sweet deal for me: I get FOUR dates!!! Nathan, Dominic, Cayden, and Silas. Nathan just gets me.

So Sage, I’m thinking that if I know your dad, he’ll think of reasons why you two should have three dates per month, equal to the number I’m getting. If I also know your dad, that means that Dunkin Donuts will become your home away from home.

Bring her home, God; bring her home.

Immigration emailed this morning and said we are approved!!!!

Oh yeah!

After three days of submitting my hunger to God and relying on him, he is gracious to favor our desire for discipline. I’m so excited that He honored my fast and found it pleasing to Him.

I am so honored to be bringing my daughter home.

I am so grateful at the lessons of reliance I have learned from this process.

Thanks to family and friends who prayed for us. Tseganesh Green is coming home.