attachment 101.

I’m currently reading a book called Attaching in Adoption by Deborah Gray.  It’s like the “attachment bible” for adoptive parents.  Gray talks a lot about what happens in the heart of a child when they become orphaned. She writes that when a child has suffered abandonment, neglect, or abuse, they internalize these sins and come to believe that they are the problem. They become ashamed. They think they did something to cause the abuse. These effects show up differently in different children--especially those that don't yet have the words or cognitive ability to express or understand such emotions.

In the aftermath of these tragedies, many children learn to control, rather than trust.  If they can control the situation, they don’t have to trust. It’s far less risky.  And, if something bad happens again, they believe it has to do with their inability to control the situation.  Hence, the cycle continues: they become responsible all over again, they feel more shame, and become even more controlling. Gray writes,

Ultimately, to promote attachment, a great deal of control has to be taken from children.

A vital part of successful attachment between children and their adoptive parents involves regaining trust.  It requires that the child let go of control, and it involves the parent creating a safe environment where the child can be a child again. In a healthy attachment, a child must believe that they deserve to be loved and cared for--that the wrong that was done to them was not their fault.    

The truth is, none of us escape the effects of sin. We all have a moment or moments when our own trust and innocence crumbles, when it is exchanged for the lie that we are unloveable, insignificant, responsible, careless, flawed, dirty, stupid...fill in the blank. We all have shame.  We’ve all been harmed in one way or another. The assault may look different for each of us--divorce, drug abuse, depression, death, illness, car accidents, sexual abuse, physical violence, addiction, legalism, betrayal, manipulation, neglect, etc--but the effects are similar: we feel foolish for trusting others, we feel ashamed of who we are, and we learn control as an alternative method.

In a way, we all suffer from attachment disorders when it comes to our relationship with God.  

Don’t we?

We don’t always trust Him.  We doubt His goodness.  We clamor for control.  We don’t let Him take care of us.  We’re angry.  We try to be our own parent and take care of ourselves.

I find it interesting that Jesus says that if we want to follow Him, we must come to Him as little children.  Innocent.  Playful.  Trusting.  Restful.

I also find it interesting that scripture says,

God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ.  This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure. --Ephesians 1:5

This week is Passion week--the final week of Christ’s life before He went to the Cross.  Over the past few days, I’ve been mindful that God gave up His Son, Jesus, in order that He might adopt us as sons and daughters.  God saw us as we were--traumatized children, running around trying to take care of ourselves, operating out of our shame and fear, assuming too much responsibility, trying to control our lives because we are so afraid of when the next assault is going to hit--and in His unfathomable love, He came to our rescue.

God has adopted us. He wants us to attach to Him. He wants to heal us. He wants to protect us, to be a safe place for us, to give us rest.  He wants us to believe His heart for us is good and faithful. He wants us to trust Him, to love Him.  He wants us to surrender control.  He wants us to be children again; He wants to be our parent.

Attaching to God seems to involve finding that innocent child inside of us--the one that was harmed and shamed--and reclaiming him or her.  It involves allowing God to take care of this child.  It means that we let Him redeem what this child lost. He's the only one who can.

And the good news is, even when we kick and scream and rage...even when we push Him away and act as if He’s going to abandon us...even when we won’t let Him take care of us and act like He’s going to harm us...He still pursues us in love.  He doesn’t back down.  We aren’t too much for Him.  His love is relentless.

Since starting this adoption process, I’ve read several places that that “adoption reflects the heart of God.”

As I dig deeper into the nitty-gritty of what might be involved in becoming an adoptive parent, I’m starting to see that this is true. As an adoptive mom, I want to erase all the neglect and abandonment that our son has most likely experienced.  I know I can’t undo it, but I want to be a place of rest for him.  I want to love him, protect him. I want to give him a chance to be a child again.

And more and more, I can hear God asking if I’ll let Him do the same for me.

share the love.

Since Chris and I started this adoption journey, I've done countless hours of research on the internet.  Amidst this research, I've come across tons of adoptive moms who have already traveled this road of adoption, and who have shared their own experiences via personal blogs.  These women have been a huge source of inspiration, encouragement, and hope to me, an adoption rookie.  Their stories have helped me fight through the fear of the unknown and reassured me that I'm not alone in this journey.

My blog friend Esty is about to leave for Uganda to pick up her baby girl. She leaves tomorrow! We met through a mutual friend and it's been fun to walk alongside her on this journey.

My blogger friend Colleen has two boys from Uganda.  I just "met" her the other week through a very cool set of circumstances.  I was asked to speak at our church a few weeks ago about what God is doing in my life and about this adoption process, and after the service, a lady named Yvonne came up to me and told me about two other adoptive moms, Colleen and Sonia, who used to go to our church.  Their hubbies are also in the military. Yvonne gave me the links to their blogs, and it's been encouraging to read their experiences.

I emailed with Colleen last week, and it turns out that she is dear friends with Stefanie, who is a huge source of support and inspiration in the adoption world, particularly to families who are adopting from China. Stefanie is a very well known figure amongst adoptive moms because her story is incredible and because she does a lot to advocate for orphans.  She started this website, which is an enormous resource for parents doing special needs adoptions from China. It was cool to find out that Colleen and Stefanie know each other, because I was already following Stefanie's blog before I met Colleen.  Small world. It's been incredible to see how connected this network of adoptive moms really is.

Anyhow, all of this is to say that the blogosphere has been a massive source of education, support, and encouragement to me over the past months, and I wanted to share the love by giving some support back to Stefanie, who is about to bring two gorgeous girls home from China.  Stefanie has eleven children, seven of which are from China. By clicking the link below, you can help them bring their two girls, Poppy and Esther, home.

click HERE to donate!

Plus, for any donation of $35 or more, you get an awesome T-shirt (pictured below), and for any donation of just $15, you're automatically entered into a huge give-away, where the first place prize is your choice of a MacBook or a legit Nikon D90 camera.

Thanks for reading and for supporting Chris and I in our journey so far...and if you are moved to do so, it would be awesome if you could send some support to Poppy and Esther! Every little bit helps!

bust a move.

T.G.I.F!  Here's a little mood-booster for you guys...it makes me totally wish that MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice were still on the music scene.  Hope everyone has an awesome weekend!

my song.

There are certain songs that hit me deep in the chest.  They slice right through the layers of cynicism, apathy, boredom, or fear that can surround my heart at any given moment.  They penetrate  to the core and draw out what is real and true with scary precision.

Do you have a song like that right now?

I do.  It came on my iPod last night as I was driving along this stretch of the road...

Highway 29.  Northbound to Napa.  

The sun was setting and I was driving to Yountville to meet my dear friend Kelly for dinner to celebrate her 30th birthday.  There I was, driving along, in awe of the majestic sunset, the hypnotic rows of grapevines that border the road, and the precious rarity of driving without kids in the backseat, and suddenly this song came on.  It was perfect.  It was one of those moments when you feel like God really sees you.

The first time I heard this song was one Sunday morning in church, about a year ago.  Chris had just left for Afghanistan.  I was a real mess.  It was all I could do to get myself and the girls dressed, fed, and ready for church on Sunday mornings.  The promise of at least one hour of free childcare was usually enough motivation to get me going, but by the time I arrived in the sanctuary, I felt too tired and wrung out to offer anything to God. 

There are certain times in your life when worship songs mean more to you than they ever have before, when the lyrics touch something deep inside that aches and grieves, when you cling to the truth of the words and the beauty of the music like your very life depends on it.  This was one of those times. 

I'd never heard or sung this song before, but the power and beauty of the lyrics and music hit me hard. I remember opening my mouth to sing and tasting the salt from my tears instead.  I had a hard time getting any sound out. Singing this song made feel God's power and majesty in a whole new way. It made me want to fall on my knees and raise my hands and really worship Him in the midst of all my fatigue and fear, and I'm not even "that kind of person."  I'm reserved. I sing quietly at church and keep my hands to myself. But not when this song comes on. This song unravels all of my pretensions and reservations. 

This song that I'm talking about is called REVELATION SONG. Have you heard it? I can't wait to belt this song out in heaven. Maybe I'll have a good voice then. My favorite version right now is by Jesus Culture...

Jesus Your name is power

breath and living water

such a marvelous mystery...

Be my everything

Be my everything.

What is "your" song right now?

oh what up Spring?

Spring is here.  

I decided it was time to get my hands dirty...

(and go on another Instagram binge)

and plant some new flowers for my hanging baskets, 

some new basil for my kitchen window...

and a plump Ranunculus for my desk.  

I look forward to watching it bloom while I plug away on more paperwork for Ren boy.

Tee-tee had a good time while we were outside planting this weekend.

The girls and I stayed home from church yesterday morning because Tess is bit a sick.  Chris went to teach Sunday school, and I set the girls up to watch Tangled--a gift from Uncle Sean--for about the 14th time in three days.  I get suckered into watching it with them every time...especially the scene with the floating lights...it makes me cry every time.  (Dude, how do these Disney movies un-glue me?) That scene is such a vivid display of how we hope and dream for things...and how we fear what will happen if those things don't end up being all that we'd hoped for.  I love Rapunzel's innocence in this scene.

The first time I saw Tangled was over Christmas when we took Tess to see it in the movie theatre.  I blubbered like a baby.  It was right around the time that Chris and I had decided we were gonna file our adoption paperwork.  I was a mixture of scared, excited, hopeful, joyful, and massively emotional.  I felt like I was seeing the world in a new light for the first time in a long time...like God wanted to use us in a significant way to shine His light in the world.  The lyrics...and at last I see the light...and it's like the fog has lifted...and it's like the sky is new...those words felt true in my heart, and it felt really good.  

Anyhow, yesterday afternoon we all hung out here and let the girls play outside. It was one of those April days when "the sun was warm but the wind was chill," like Robert Frost says. I made afternoon coffee for Chris and I. I love making coffee for two.  It's one of my favorite things about weekends.

I was flipping through an Anne Lamott book yesterday and she writes, "Spring is sweet, the baby season; summer is the teenage season--too much energy, too much growth and beauty and heat and late nights, none of them what they are cracked up to be."

I have loved the past few weeks here...digging in the dirt, planting, watching how my flower buds change each day.  I'm enjoying the warm, wet days, mindful that all too soon the dry summer heat will set in.

On Friday afternoon I received our official, final, edited, revised, approved copy of our home study.  It's been a long time coming.  This morning I will take it, along with our completed I800A-form, and go to the post office to mail it off to immigration!  I'm thankful to have this next step finally in process...and praying that immigration doesn't take too long.

I talked with our China case manager on the phone last week and she said she can start looking for referrals for us. I am excited...hopeful...trying to be patient.

What is being birthed in you this spring?  What is growing?  What do you want to plant?

Passports

So, it seems that the journey to get our Ren boy is also becoming a personal journey back through places of my own story.  There are many things I feel God whispering to me in the midst of this whole process, and one of them is that this adoption isn't just about bringing another child into our home.  It's also about remembering the child that I used to be, and how that little girl and her story impacts the woman that I am today.  

And as I've felt God nudging me back into places of my past, I've told Him, "Hey, wait...this isn't about ME.  This is about me trying to help a boy who needs a home.  This is about our son."

And He answers and says, "Oh yes, child...but it's about you too."

Hmmm. He always seems to have more in store for us than we originally thought.

Anyhow, I was thinking about all of this a few days ago when I pulled my shiny new passport out of my desk drawer.  It came in the mail while we were on vacation.  I stroked it and admired it.  Then I opened the front cover and looked at the photo of myself... 

30 year old Lib.

I proceeded to flip through its clean, crisp, blank pages.  No stamps, no stories. Not yet. I realized that the first stamp in my new passport will be CHINA. And then I thought about the fact that China is not a country I've ever really desired to go...not until now. And that got me thinking about the places I have been and my old passports.

The last passport I had expired a few years ago. I got it when I was seventeen...

17 year old Lib.

This passport took me on youth group mission trip to Dublin, Ireland. It took me on a summer study abroad trip to Italy before my junior year of college. It took me to Fiji on my honeymoon. It took me to Mazatlan, Mexico for Chris's and my one-year anniversary. As I look at the photo of the seventeen year old me, it feels like such a long time ago,   and I'm mindful of all the places I traveled, both physically and emotionally, with that passport. And then I started wondering about the passport I had even before this one.

And there it was...lying the bottom of my desk drawer...and this is the girl I saw peering back at me as I opened the front cover...

10 year old Lib.

This is the passport I got in preparation to move to England. I remember the day my mom took my brother and I to get these photos taken. I don't think I really understood what a passport was at the time. A few months after this passport was issued, we left our lives in Atlanta, GA and boarded a British Airways flight bound for London, England. Gatwick Airport was the first stamp in my first passport...the first of many to follow. Spain. Greece.  Sweden. Denmark. Holland. Germany. Austria. Belgium. France.  Canary Islands.  

The four years that my family lived in England were during a very formative time in my life. The exposure to different people, languages, and cultures at an early age changed me forever. Moving back to the states after those four years was one of the most difficult times in my life. When we returned to the U.S., I felt like an outsider in my own country. I felt different from all of my American friends and I felt like I couldn't share pieces of my past with them. Over time, I learned to be careful about who I shared that my part of my story with because it only seemed to make me feel misunderstood and alone.  When I shared things about my life in Europe, most of the responses I heard were along the lines of, "well, if you like it so much over there, why don't you just go back."  

I know there will be so many places where our son will probably feel misunderstood and alone.  He will be different and those differences will be difficult, if not impossible, to hide.  But I want him to feel loved and cherished for those differences, because those differences are what make him unique and special.  I hope I can do everything in my power to celebrate these differences, rather than let them become a source of aloneness for him.

My overseas experience cultivated a love of travel and overseas-life that is a significant component of my desire to adopt a child from a different country. I would love the chance to live overseas again one day. I don't know that this hope will ever be fulfilled, but in some way, it seems like bringing our boy home will be a bit like bringing the overseas to us. I'm starting to see that maybe God planted this desire in my heart for this very purpose.  

During the drive to pick up Tess from school this afternoon, I was listening to a song by Greg Laswell. Towards the end of the song, he sings,

Yeah, it's well worth the time that it's taken to get here now.

Those lyrics feel true to where I'm at today.  Each stamp in my  passport is a part of where I've been...a part of the journey that God has written into my story. It's taken my whole life to bring me to where I'm at now, and I'm seeing even more that God doesn't waste a thing.  He uses each of our experiences to shape our desires and prepare us for the amazing things He wants to do through us.  I never dreamed that China would be a stamp in my passport...but like I said earlier...


He always seems to have more in store for us than we originally thought.

Family Life

Last Saturday was an epic fail in our household.  

It started out like any other Saturday...get up, have coffee and some quiet time, get children fed and clothed, and then decide what to do. Before the morning routine was completed, however, I found Chris out in the garage, already dressed, with a long skinny rope in his hands, looking intensely at his tools.  

Oh, no, I thought.  He's gonna start a project.

Chris is very focused, driven, and determined.  When he sets his mind on something he will accomplish it...or die trying.  So, when he decided to run an ethernet cord from the garage, up through the attic, and down the wall behind our media center, I knew it was going to be a long day. I knew I should probably get out of dodge.  I knew it meant I would be on my own with the girls. I didn't want to be the possessive, overbearing wife, so I tried to leave Chris be and let him do this thing.  

Chris doesn't do home projects very often...maybe only one or two a year, if that.  Still, D, I, and Y are perhaps my most dreaded letters of the alphabet. My dad was never the most "handy" guy growing up, so I tend to equate D.I.Y with disaster.

As the morning wore on, I saw Chris unraveling wire coat hangers and stringing them together into a long pole.  He also took a rake and some flashlights up the attic.  I had no idea what he was up to, and to be honest, I didn't want to know.  Ignorance is bliss.

Maybe it's just this way with men in general, or maybe this characteristic is specific to surgeons, but when Chris starts a project, the man I know and love disappears and is suddenly replaced with a man that I don't want to know.  As the day wore on, it became apparent that this project had consumed Chris along with any plans for fun, quality, family time.  I was disappointed, to say the least, and Chris was extremely disappointed, because despite all of his tactics, he was not able to accomplish that which he'd set out to do.  

We sat in bed on Saturday night recounting all that had gone wrong about the day.  Chris had multiple, deep scratches up and down his forearms--battle wounds acquired from nails in the roof of the attic.  I was feeling my own battle wounds...of course, mine were all emotional because I'm a woman and took Chris's preoccupation to mean that the ethernet cord was more important than me.  Chris apologized.  We talked and listened to one another and thought of ways that home projects need to operate differently in the future.  On the requirement list: no anger, strict time limits, taking a break to eat, and no surprise starts on a weekend morning!   

On Sunday morning we sat drinking coffee together, talking about the day. Ordinarily, we would have been getting ready for church, but in the aftermath of Saturday, I felt like we needed to do something together as a family.  We wanted to somehow redeem the disaster of the previous day.  I wanted to get the heck out of our house.  So on a whim, we went into the city.

I decided to do it up big and take a shower, shave my legs, blow dry my hair, and put make up on for the city excursion.  As I went to get some underwear out of my dresser drawer, I saw sweet Tess in my bedroom doorway looking like this.

Apparently, Tess and Lu highjacked my purse while I was in the shower.  Tess went for the lipstick.  Lu went for the car keys.  I was instantly reminded of why my razor blade and blow dryer gather dust on most days.  Good hygiene comes at a cost.  I asked Tess to pose for this photo and then I asked her to go to her room.  It was hard to keep a straight face.

We miraculously made it in the car and pulled out of the driveway by 10am.  It was a beautiful spring day, and as we drove down I-80, I was reminded that when you are a stay-home-mom raising young children, getting out of the house is synonymous with maintaining your mental sanity (even if the process of actually getting out of the house can make you crazy).  

As we drove over the Bay Bridge into San Francisco, I whipped out my iPhone (yep, I got a new one...Chris generously gave me his free upgrade...third time's a charm, let's hope).  My friend Carly got me hooked on the best photo app EVER...Instagram.  So, here are some fun photos I captured of our big city adventure with my fancy new app.

The Bay Bridge.  Whenever I drive across it, I pray there's not an earthquake.  This bridge scares me to death.

View of SF from the Bay Bridge.  It was clearest day I've ever seen.

The obligatory posed family photo at Pier 39.  You can see the Golden Gate behind us to my left...barely.

Tess and Toph at the Wharf.

Sea Lions.  They are shamelessly lazy.  This was our view from the restaurant where we ate lunch.

lunch.

16 oz. Stella Artois + crusty sourdough = match made in heaven

Toph and Lu at lunch.  Lu was diggin' the sourdough.

Pier food!  These babies tasted like little funnel cakes.

After lunch we walked down the wharf to Ghiradelli Square.  One thing I love about San Fran, or any large city for that matter, is the strange people. Whenever I venture out of my usual mommy-circles, I'm always amazed to find that there's a big, wide world out there with all sorts of people doing all sorts of things.  Here's Tess playing with a random dude's pet iguana named "Lightening McQueen." See? Not everyone spends their days changing diapers and making PB&Js. Some people sit on park benches in Fisherman's Wharf and show off their pet iguanas.

Or how about these guys?  Two Hispanic dudes in a lowrider with a pit bull in the back seat!

Anyhow, all of this is to say that this weekend felt like a pretty accurate biopsy of family life.  I would never want to re-live Saturday, yet Sunday was really special. Life and relationships have some low, hard places, and then there are a lot of really sweet, fun times too.  I guess it's all part of the package!