first snow

Woke up Saturday morning to wet snowflakes softly falling to earth. Wish I could bottle the silence, the stillness, that comes with falling snow.

Josiah has been impatiently anticipating this first snow. Sporting his camo jammy pants and fireman rain boots, he danced like a crazy man around the soggy backyard, chasing those first flakes, catching them on his hand, his head, his tongue.

Bereket stood at the back door, face pressed against the cold glass, looking longingly at his big brother frolicking. He ran and brought back his three-sizes-too-big orange Beaver slippers and put them on over his footed jammies. I couldn't say no. What's a little mud? It's his first snow!

I opened the door and set the little fellow free. With that brightest smile, he moved cautiously to the edge of the deck and held out his little hands in wonder.

I ran for my camera. He must have really been awe-struck because he was still standing there, arms out, the whole time it took me to get my camera, realize the battery was absent, retrieve the battery from the charger in the other room and start clicking.

Those little hands of his made an impression on me the first time I ever held them, five months ago, on a breezy sunny day in Africa, standing on a tile patio at  the back of a children's home.

They continue to impress me. Challenge me. Arms outstretched, open to receive whatever might come down to them. A new family. New home. New country with lots of really white people who talk funny. New standards and routines. New bed and clothes and cups and forks and food. One week in Africa with a lot less "newness" and I was ready for my familiar, dependable, comforts and faces. Take me back to the USA.

How do I learn to reach out my hands, extend my arms, for whatever my Father in heaven might send?

After a night of poor sleep, with a full day of little people and their not-so-little needs before me, how do I extend my arms and thank God for today?

I want to press my palms toward heaven and receive, with thanksgiving, rain or snow or sunshiny days, sweet sleep or restless nights, happy babies or snotty noses. I do believe its all a gift. Don't deserve one of these beautiful days that add up to a really good life. I want my eyes to be open all day long so that I'm able to live in this present moment. This so, so quickly fleeting moment. This only moment that I have.

Update on Josiah (for the grandparents): Josiah and I had a sneak-away date on Sunday and I enjoyed our one-on-one. I think I miss our time together more than he does. Haven't quite gotten Bereket and Tamagn to sit down and watch Anne of Green Gables with me like my biggest boy would. Anyhow,  I asked him if he was still glad that we brought the boys home. "Oh, yeah, mom!" I asked him what he liked most about it. "I just love having them here. I just love having my brothers here!"

I couldn't ask for more. 

grace and grandaddy, unrelated

Just wanted to share a few pictures. We are all still alive-- all of us-- and have enjoyed visits from my parents in this last month. The good news of being adopted, grafted into a family, is that you get the whole family. I guess some might call this the bad news... but in our case it is good! Our boys are pretty lucky to have four grandparents who love and adore them and know how to enjoy them.

And I think that both of our boys must have known in the past what it is to be enjoyed. It isn't foreign to them. They don't seem toughened or untrusting or resistant to being loved. We were told prior to making them ours that the Ethiopian culture as a whole values children. That most adopted kids do really well when brought into a family. We've found that to be true. For which I am so thankful.

Now I just get to deal with my own shortcomings in loving. For some reason it is much easier for me to accept grace when I am frustrated or impatient or angry with Josiah. Our relationship has the benefit of time. He knows I love him more than life itself and he  knows his mom falls short often and he understands grace and forgiveness and is always willing to extend them to me.

But I have struggled with really feeling guilty when I sin against the little one whose eyes are so deep and dark. I can't read him. I don't know that he understands when mommy says she's sorry for being frustrated... again. He takes what you give him rather passively and it scares me to death.

God has given us, me, remarkable grace this first month and a half, but I've felt these past few days that that grace is waning and I'm tired and losing it more often and I've been thankful, so thankful, that the transition has been good, and I've wondered can I give thanks even when it feels like I am completely devoid of grace to offer? What does it look like for me to draw upon the grace of God today? And haven't I been doing that all along?

My time is up. I start my day with much more grace when I am dressed and ready to go before little feet start padding across the floor upstairs.

Here are a few of the pictures that have been sitting on my desktop for the last 3 weeks, waiting to be uploaded. Grandaddy meeting his two new favorite grandsons. {smile}

milestones

Bereket called me mommy today. First time he's called me by name. And just last night I was musing how he will say mommy, repeat it after me, he knows who I am, but has never called me or addressed me that way.

Until today.

I like having another little one address me by that name. I like being his mommy. Feel overwhelmingly unqualified and insufficient to be the mortal arms that hold this little immortal soul.

The first night I had him, back at the guest house in Addis, when he looked so lost and alone and far away as I was trying, and failing, to get him to sleep, I prayed to my Heavenly Father. How do I love this little one? Your little one? Right now, what does that look like? And His voice came clear, and thankfully, quick.

Be my arms for him. 


I scooped up his little frame from beside me on the bed and laid him on me. He clung and I held tight. And I prayed he'd know the One who loves him more than I, the One whose arms stretched wide on that  wooden cross for him. And I felt completely overwhelmed that God was entrusting us, me, to love this little one for Him.

Reading in bed the other night, I heard little feet stealing down the hall towards me. Bereket peeked timidly around the corner. He had that lost look on his face again. His eyes are so dark and often I am at a complete loss as to how to read them. So deep. I held my arms out to him and he didn't hesitate a second. Heaved him up on the bed and he clung again and I held tight. And again was overwhelmed that God has allowed me to love this little one whose first two years of life will forever be a mystery to me. This little one, made in His image, loved by Him when he had no one. This eternal being.


"For people are the consciousness of God in the world, the closest thing to Him in the physical realm, and a more vivid reminder than anything else in creation of His existence, His mystery, and His creative power. If man really is fashioned, more than anything else, in the image of God, then clearly it follows that there is nothing on earth so near to God as a human being."          Mike Mason, The Mystery of Marriage




I do not deserve to love this little person. I am incapable of loving this little human being well. I am humbled that God would let me have him for a short time on this earth. Humbled that I am the one that gets to be called mommy by him. And so, so thankful, too.

brothers

I'm really not trying to be smart or rude when I answer the number one question people seem to ask when we are out with our boys, it's just that I love to say it.

"Are they brothers?"

They are now. 

We have three first-born sons and they are all brothers. I hope Bereket and Tamagn are as excited to have brothers as my biggest boy is. I know the wait was long for me. Can't imagine what it was to a little two-year old, how old Josiah was when we started telling him we were going to get him a brother from Ethiopia.

Once about two years ago, we pulled into the parking lot at Wal-mart and Josiah queried from the back seat, "Are we going to get my brother from here?" Wal-mart does seem to sell a little of everything....

And then when we were dropping papers at the State Representative's office to go to Harrisburg to be authenticated, about a mile from our house, he asked if this was Ethiopia. Really, he is a bright boy. Just kinda hard to understand it all.

Two years ago this month we sent our dossier off to Ethiopia. Finally completed all that paperwork. We were ready to be put into the queue of families waiting for children. I had wrestled over whether we should apply for one or two children. Had all our paperwork cleared for two but I wasn't settled with it. I didn't want to manage three kids under three (at that time we were told the wait was much shorter and were expecting to be traveling to get our baby the same month Josiah would turn three)--I wanted to be able to love them. And I just couldn't see it.

Finally I felt like God very clearly told me that the little boy he had a for us didn't have a brother or a sister. We signed up for one.

Eleven months later we still didn't have a referral and now we had a three-and-a-half year old and taking two seemed more feasible.

We changed our request. We'll take a sibling group.

Waited till just after Christmas for a referral and still didn't have anything. Put a call into our case manager and finally we asked the right questions. There just weren't any young sibling groups available. We can change our request back to one and have a referral in a few days, take two unrelated kids, or keep waiting, knowing that it might be another year still.

Changed our request again and had pictures of our two boys just 6 weeks later. On Valentine's Day. Their names are Bereket and Tamagn and neither of them have brothers or sisters.

We took them. Made them ours and called them brothers with our own. 

on wrestle time

 I was chopping carrots on Sunday, smiling to myself as my boys in the living room-- all four of them-- wrestled and squealed and growled and made the house shake. Then this little one came hauling around the corner and across the kitchen and grabbed my leg as though his life were before him.


























He jabbered away in a tongue I don't know and then gave me the biggest, brightest smile and pointed back to the living where his daddy and his brothers were playing hard. Then he was off. From my vantage point in the kitchen, I caught his heels going up over his head as he heaved his little frame back into the raucous with pure delight.

Bereket loves wrestle time and as Casey is on his second week of working half days, all my boys have enjoyed spending lots of time on the floor with daddy. So thankful! Bereket also loves to be tickled. He'll lay himself out before you with arms spread, shirt lifted on his very round, brown belly, just waiting for you. So hungry for attention. Skin itching for love. I am so glad to be able to give it.

All of my boys are adjusting to their new family really well. Really well. Better than I could have imagined. It's remarkable how good and right are boundaries, lots of love, attention, and discipline for children. Any children. True love doesn't let a child chart his own course and I have been so encouraged as Casey has jumped in to establishing his authority with these little love-hungry guys. Bereket especially has responded so well.

He has learned to give kisses, and zerberts, and how to pull your face to his to receive a kiss. His English improves every day and while I get a kick out of his monologues in Amharic, sometimes that mischievous smile on his face makes me wonder what on earth he is saying that he knows his mama can't understand.

Josiah continues to be an awesome big brother who is loving having two little brothers. He is so patient and affectionate and such a helper to his mama. He reminded me and encouraged me yesterday, while I was going head-to-head with my stubborn two-year old, "Mom, you can't let him win!" Thanks, coach.

Josiah harvesting a few neglected eggplant and tomatoes. 

Baby on my leg. I love it. 

saying goodbye

 or chau, as Bereket would say  

Our amazing help left us on Saturday. Had to get back to "God's country", or so they said.  They will be missed. A lot.

Casey's folks, Steve and Jeannie, flew out from Oregon to spend 2 weeks with us, caring for my home and family while I flew to Ethiopia, cooking all the meals my first week home with the boys, doing all the dishes, picking up the playroom every time I turned around. And so, so much more.

Thank you, Steve and Jeannie, for serving us so well. For loving us and our new boys in such a tangible way. We love you and miss you!

Our first few days at home

God is good.