gloriously unaware

We're not what we were 

Nor are we what we're going to be

So where does that leave us right now

Except gloriously unaware of how

this will turn out.  --Josh Pyke

I've been composing some sort of Kurz Family FAQ blog post in my mind for a while now. There are so many questions to be answered about our future. We field many of these questions on a daily basis...

When are you moving?
Where are you moving?
When are you going to China to get your son?
Will you get him before you move?
What are you going to do with your girls during all of this?
What are you going to do with your current house?
How are you dealing with all of this?

While God has miraculously answered a few of these questions, the answer to many of them remains...

WE DON'T KNOW!

We obviously know we are moving to VA Beach, and we know that Chris's final-out with the Air Force is July 7th. We do not know where in VA Beach we will live, nor do we know if we are going to buy or rent there. We don't yet know when we are going house-hunting in VA Beach or what we are going to do with our girls during that time. We are in the process of finding a realtor right now. Your prayers are coveted!

We have been told that we will travel to get Ren in about four-five months from now, which means we'll be traveling to get him right around the time we'll be moving. We don't know how we are going to move across the country and travel half way around the world to get our boy. We don't know if we'll get to come back here first, or if we'll take him straight to our unknown home in VA Beach. We don't know how we are going to get a house moved and re-settled in the midst of all of this. We don't know how the chaos of all of this will impact our girls and Ren. We don't know all the details that come attached to this, like what are we doing to do with the dog, and will we need some sort of temporary housing for a while, and will I go ahead and move with the girls ahead of Chris? There is no way to know how these intricate details will all weave together.

We do know that my parents will take care of the girls while we're in China, but we don't know whether that will mean they come out here, or if the girls will go to them in NC. We don't know when to tell them to prepare to watch the girls.  We don't have a set two-weeks on our calendar that we can pencil in our travel dates, and we won't know this until about two weeks before we actually travel.

All of these unknowns are heaped upon an ever-amassing pile of unknowns inherent in this adoption process.  In the midst of all of these unknowns, however, we have felt God showing up for us in concrete and miraculous ways.  Because of the bulk of uncertainty in our future, it is astounding to see Him answer some of these questions for us, without much effort on our part.

A couple of weeks ago, Chris decided to go ahead and list our house for rent on a military housing website.  I said, "Really, babe?  This early?  We aren't gonna have trouble renting it, and it's not even going to be available until this summer."  But Chris is a planner, and he wanted to go ahead and do it.

He listed the house on a Saturday night and on Sunday morning, on our way to church, we got a phone call from a non-military family who wanted to come see the house ASAP. They came by as soon as we got home from church and brought their own renter's application and reference list. They were more ahead of the game than we were! It turns out that this family has a 13 yr. old daughter who is best friends with our neighbor's daughter across the street, who sometimes babysits for our girls. It also turns out that this family used to rent a property from these same neighbors, and our neighbors came by that same Sunday to tell us that this family will be fantastic tenants, that they actually made improvements to their house while they lived there. It also turns out that this family wanted to sign a five-year lease and wanted to move in exactly when we needed to move out.  It also turns out that this family wants to eventually buy our home. A lease agreement has already been signed, and the monthly rent will cover our mortgage payment!

The big question of how are we dealing with all of this...well, the answer is simple.  One day at a time. ODAT! One moment at a time. Many times during the day I have to reel my mind back in and say, I trust You, Jesus. There is absolutely no way I can know what's ahead, and the only way I can experience peace and rest is to trust and wait on God, to seek His presence in the moment, and ask Him to help us work out all of these details in a way that only He can. This is where the rubber hits the road of our faith journey. I don't have a lot of answers.

As I write this, I'm reminded of a quote from the movie The Matrix, which Chris and I watched again around Christmas time.  It's one of my favorite movies because of it's vivid metaphors for the Christian faith journey.  We feel like we've swallowed the red pill, and at times, we are wondering what on earth we've done.  Sometimes the blue pill looks really good. Anyhow, the quote, spoken by Morpheus to Neo...

"There's a difference between knowing the path and walking it."

We assume we need to know the path in order to walk it, but we don't.  All we need to do is walk it, one foot in front of the other, trusting the One who has placed us there. When we don't know the path, then we're free to enjoy the provision, love, and mercy of the One who provides for us as we sometimes doubtfully, sometimes gloriously, follow along.

recovery

The day after we received our referral for Ren, I decided to dig up the flower pots in our yard.  I'd had a strong urge to do it for weeks, even though some of the flowers were still holding on. I wanted a clean slate. I wanted to till the dry soil with my hands.  I wanted the dirt bare and able to breath.  So I set out with my little hand shovel.

Faith, hope -- a melody with no words

Is making its way through these dark times

Echoes the sound that you heard

I cleared away the dried fall leaves and dug up my dead basil and oregano plants. I pulled up withered clumps of Queen Anne's lace, which I planted last spring. The soil was dry and caked at the surface.  I chopped through it with my shovel, digging up the cool, moist dirt from the bottom, mixing it with the rest.  

No one told you that faith would come easy

No one promised the way would be clear

Turn the ground in the fields of your story

While you're sowing the seed of your tears

It was a balmy, clear winter day.  The trees were stunning in their barrenness.  I loved the simplicity of their naked, silver limbs against the backdrop of the bright blue sky.

Under skies wide and blue as the ocean

Make your peace with your own history

So much more than the sum of your longings

Are the good and the bad - all this beauty and tragedy

The pots are still bare and I don't know that I'll fill them with new flowers in the spring. My hands must plant and nurture life in other ways. The trees are still bare as well, but the delicate cherry blossom buds are already forming on the gangly branches.  Spring is coming.  It is coming quickly.

Put your sorrows in the ground

All the broken pieces wrapped up in shadows of places and people you've known

Weeping shapes and sounds all strung together like a crown

Lead a heart out of stone with a melody making you new

** lyrics by Jeremy Casella

first things first

I'm trying something new on this blog.  Trying to write in the moment, more frequently, without preconceptions.  Little snap shots of my thoughts and my day.  It might be less polished, but I am hoping it gets me writing more frequently.  My mind tends to feel like an inflated ballon on the cusp of popping, but I also feel like I can't vent the air out until all the molecules are arranged in a neatly packaged format.  The problem with this is that the ballon just keeps getting fuller and fuller, because the thought of bringing order to chaos makes me want to abandon the whole thing.  So, if my posts feel a little more random, or perhaps even sloppy, this might be why.

I woke up this morning feeling frazzled.  I've been out of school for almost a week now, and as the days have worn on, I've become more and more aware of the overwhelming backlog of housekeeping issues to tend to. Take the car to the mechanic. Get the dog more flea medicine. Make doctors and dentist appointments. Start looking for a house in VA Beach. Respond to emails that have been sitting in my inbox for over a month.

Every corner of my home contains a pile of black dog hair mixed with dust.  The toilets are growing black, moldy rings. I cleaned out my desk this morning, an unintended use of my time that came about after trying to organize our ever-amassing heap of adoption paper work. I came across Dell and Compaq user manuals from my old laptops, three empty iPhone boxes (yes, I've drowned two of them already!), old checkbooks, old receipts, etc, etc, etc..  Trash, trash, trash.

We accumulate. We acquire. The chaos is ever present.  The backlog of things to do is never done.  There's always room for more cleaning, more organization, more laundry, more, more, more.  And our hearts are tired and frustrated. Or, at least mine is.

Right now I sit on the leather sofa in our family room.  I've just downed a cup of  hot coffee.  It's never tasted so good.  I drank it fast. My body is tired from a full yet satisfying week. I got some things done.  Other things, I didn't.  As I drank my coffee, I pulled out my reading for today. The verses are from Luke--

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things.  But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her."  10:41-42

One thing is needed.  

Time with Jesus.

The other night, as Chris was falling asleep, I asked him,

"Hey babe, what do you think is the meaning of life?"

Poor guy...he kindly asked if we could have the conversation in the morning.

I said, "Well, I just think that the whole meaning of life is to be with God.  That's it.  Just being with Him, spending time with Him.  I think it really is that simple."

Chaos swirls around me and a long list of unknowns awaits me in the future, but right here, right now, it's all okay.  Spending time with Him sharpens my focus, gives my frazzled mind rest, and restores my energy.

I also read this today, which is just so awesome, I wanted to share it...

"Because I am omnipotent, I am able to bend time and events in your favor.  You will find that you can accomplish more in less time, after you have given yourself to Me in rich communion.  Also, as you align yourself with My perspective, you can sort out what is important and what is not."  --from Jesus Calling

First things first, right?

Gotta run.  I'm off to the girls' schools to gorge on pink frosting and sprinkles...Valentines Day parties!

red and blue

I bought Ren his first two outfits yesterday.  I have to admit, I felt like a bit of an impostor in the boys' section of the store.  My life has been colored in all shades of pink and purple over the past five years.  Red and blue still feel like they belong in someone else's crayon box.

Despite the unfamiliarity, I was so excited.  We got our "pre-approval" from China several weeks ago, which basically means that they've given us the green light to adopt this specific boy, our Ren boy.  This also means that we are able to request updates on him and send him care packages.

So, I've got two outfits so far, and I'm adding a few more things to his first package.  It's strange buying clothes for your son and not being sure what size he wears.  Parenthood, in all of its brands and variations, never seizes to amaze me.  I decided to get 24-month outfits, which will give him a little room to grow.  I also plan on printing out some family photos and putting them in a little photo book for him, so hopefully he can start looking at our crazy white faces before we come get him.

Last night, Chris came into our bedroom and told me my nightstand is looking like a busy disaster.  I said, "Yep, well, it reflects my inner world."  Actually, I've felt at peace lately, but I do find my mind spinning in transition, switching out of school-mode and back into reality-mode.  My poetry text books have been put back on the shelf and replaced with a thick stack of adoption books.  To be honest, I'm having a hard time ingesting all of the information in these adoption books, because no matter how much I read, I know there is no preparing us for what's ahead.  Only God knows what's ahead of us, and while I'm attempting to do what I can, I'm trying to rest in Him, which usually just translates to putting one foot in front of the other, talking to Him, listening to Him, reading Him, writing my heart to Him, and staying present in the moment.

What else is there, really?

brewing.

It's Sunday night and I'm waiting for Chris to finish his Mandarin lesson on Rosetta Stone so we can watch a movie together.  "Moneyball" is on the menu tonight.

I don't have a lot to say for now.  I just had the urge to post something, to say that a lot of thoughts are brewing up in this brain of mine and I'm looking forward to sharing.  I finished another class yesterday, and it seems that I always have a massive purge of thoughts after I finish up a course.  A lot of stuff gets contained while I'm school because I don't have the time or energy to get it out, so I'm looking forward to releasing some of it in the weeks to come.

That's all for now.

wild geese

I went on a run at the duck pond on base this morning. I almost didn't go because it was so cold out, but I decided to bundle up and brave the bite in the air. The duck pond is one of my favorite places to run. It has many interesting attractions that a treadmill lacks--a long, winding trail, a gorgeous view of the Napa hills, and geese...lots of geese.  

A whole flock of them had taken up residence on one stretch of the jogging path, and as I tried to weave in and out of them, they waddled their plump white rumps out of the way...except for one. One of them wouldn't budge. His beady black eyes stared a whole through me, and as I jogged past, he opened his dark beak, cranked back his neck, and released a loud, angry hiss.

I jogged on and laughed a little. It was one of those moments that caught me off guard. When I thought about what the day would hold, I didn't envision being hissed at by a goose. It definitely got my attention.

***

In the process of writing a poem for school this week, I've been noticing how the emotional and spiritual seasons we go through in life are reflected in nature. Nature repeats itself. Most beauty is in this repetition. This morning as I ran, I noticed the naked, silver branches, the placid pond, the black birds scattering across the cloudless blue sky. These details are beautiful. They are significant. They are not random images God placed in creation. They tell us something about Him. They tell us something about how to live a meaningful life. They tell us how we might fit into all of that.

***

This evening I received an email from a friend.  He attached a poem for me to read by an incredible contemporary poet, Mary Oliver.  The poem...of all poems...is called "Wild Geese."

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting

over and over announcing your place 

in the family of things.

a trip that takes us

I'm sitting in bed with my laptop. I've been up since 4am, when Tess tapped my shoulder and said she'd wet her bed. After helping her get changed and tucked back in, I couldn't get back to sleep. By 5am I surrendered and started the coffee. It's actually been a nice morning, with extra time to journal, pray, and reflect.

Chris and I have been tired. Almost four days of pure excitement and adrenaline have worn off and we've felt the crash. I think I'm still feeling it.

what GOES UP...
MUST
COME
down.

Lately my mind has been on Lucy, who just turned two on Christmas Eve. I am already aware that this huge shift in our family dynamics will likely impact her the hardest. The momma-bear in me is rearing up on hind legs, wanting to fight against all the ways she will be forced out of her comfort zone. I want to make the transition as smooth as I can for her, and in the midst of all of this, I'm realizing that I might be projecting my emotions onto her...just a little bit.

Lucy is starting at a new school this week and her first day was yesterday. It's going to be an adjustment for her and I've been stressed out about how she will adapt to her new environment. Overall, Chris and I think this is the best thing for Lucy and our family, as I'm still in grad school and now gearing up to go to China this spring. Having Tess and Lu at the same school will also provide them with some structure and routine when we bring Ren home, and I think this will be a positive thing for them in the long run, while also giving Ren and I one on-one-time to attach.

I know that easing into this transition is going to take time, but yesterday I felt overwhelmed by a sense of sadness and loss. My baby Lu is not a baby anymore. I was resistant to moving her into a big girl bed over Christmas and I find myself wanting to hold onto the baby in her as long as possible. We will start potty training soon. Her naps are becoming more sporadic. She is the last bio child Chris and I will have, and I am starting to say goodbye to this phase of the journey, which despite many challenges, has been so sweet in so many ways. Within a matter of months, Ren will be the youngest, the baby, and this will be an entirely new experience for us all.

I know parenthood is full of changes. Just when you master one phase of development, it's already time to move on to the next one, whether you're ready for it or not. As parents, it seems that we are just along for the ride, without much control over what comes next. It reminds me of a quote by John Steinbeck that's painted on the wall of the Steinbeck museum, which we visited in Salinas this past October:

I'm realizing that this journey of parenthood and adoption, and more significantly, the journey guided by Christ, is not one that we take...

It is one that takes us.

I'll close with a video that Chris made of Lucy, commemorating her first two years of life...what sweet ones they were! Happy belated birthday to my big girl, Lu! We love you so much.