Saying Yes to the Scary and the Unknown in International Adoption

*** TRIGGER WARNING****

This is a transparent and possibly uncomfortable post to read.  My views have been formed based on my personal experience and also from families who have shared intimate details of their journey with me.  In addition, my faith is the biggest guiding factor in how I shape my views and make decisions.  After completing four international, "special needs" adoptions, this is where I have landed in regards to accepting a referral.

I arrived at each of my daughters' referrals differently:  1) through a waiting child list  2) a call from my caseworker asking if I was ready to return to the India program  3) waiting the traditional way for THE CALL and 4) by default after losing a child I had prayed for and pursued for close to a year.  Furthermore, each of my daughters arrived at their respective orphanages in different ways and at different ages.  They each have a unique story.   Finally, they came home at various ages:  Almost 7 years old,  3.5 years old,  19 months,  and 4 years old.

If you read my book, then you know when I started on this adoption journey, all I could envision for myself was a healthy baby.  I was naive and selfish.  God used the closure of Nepal to begin the process of gently stripping away my desires and replacing them with his.  A paradigm shift happened and I clearly became aware that international adoption is not about my wants and desires; it's about providing a family and a home for a child that has none.  It seems obvious, but when you are in pursuit of motherhood or building your family or "answering the call" or whatever other reason that led you to adopt, it's easy for your vision to become cloudy and self-centered.

With each successive adoption, my idea of "special needs" has evolved.  What I once thought scary, terrifying, overwhelming, or a definite NO, has been replaced with a deeper understanding of God's grace and provision.

What I said YES to when I signed their referral papers:

Trauma
RAD
Facial anomalies
Severe scarring
Older child
Failure to Thrive
Strong susceptibility for severe behavioral issues
Unilateral leg paralysis
Sickle Cell Anemia
Meningitis

The reality of my YES once they were home and received medical care:

Trauma
Facial anomalies
Severe scarring
Older child
Failure to Thrive
Unilateral leg paralysis - HEALED
Sickle Cell Anemia - Turned out to be trait
Meningitis 
Alpha Thalassemia
Brain damage
Unilateral hearing loss - severe
Active lymph node TB
Active ocular TB
Latent TB
Microcephaly
Cerebral Palsy
Speech Delay
Schistosomiasis
Septopreoptic holoprosencephaly
Toxocara
Giardia
Hepatitis A
Cafe au lait spots
Strabismus
Metabolic disorder
Short stature
Precocious Puberty
Possible Peeling Skin Syndrome 
Disinhibited Social Engagement Disorder
Anxiety
Global delay

I may have forgotten a few things because it seems that something new is always being discovered :)   

We've seen ENT, Audiology, PT, OT, SLP, Hematology, Genetics, Endocrinology, Infectious Disease, Neurology, Ophthalmology, DDBP, Urology, Pediatric Gynecology, Developmental Pediatrics, Orthopedics, and a new referral for Pediatric Rehab.  I'm sure I missed a few here as well because... it's a lot of specialists to remember.

I am a single woman.  I started my journey knowing that I would be a single parent.  I don't have someone I can come home to and tap out.  I'm the sole-provider, the sole-decision maker, the sole-comforter, the sole-protector, the sole-weight carrier, the sole-everything.  In addition to all of that,  I also homeschool all of my girls.

I don't say all of these things for any type of recognition, or unsung hero crap.  Because nothing could be further from the truth.  I am a sinner and a broken person.  I am woefully inept.  I question my sanity and decisions daily.  I'm overwhelmed 95% of the time.  I cry in random places.  I cry when someone is nice to me.  I'm an expert worrier.  I worry about our finances.  I wonder if we will ever get out of this season of hard.  Will God keep me in the valley of absolute surrender and trust?  I worry about the health of my girls - there are some scary issues and all of it feels enormous.  I wonder if I'm meeting their needs.  Am I listening enough?  Am I playing enough?  Am I present enough?  Why did I flip out over the hangers on their floor?  Why do dirty dishes in the sink drive me to the brink of rage?  Because I am weak and I can't do it on my own.  No one can.  I need Jesus every single day of my life.  Without him, I can't even begin to imagine how terrible our life would be.

In John 16:33 he says:

"I have told you all this so that you will have peace of heart and mind.  Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows; but cheer up, for I have overcome the world."

He straight up tells me that life will be hard.  I will have sorrow.  I will have many trials and tribulations.  However, he also tells me to have joy because of what he has done on the cross - he has overcome the world.  He has overcome my problems, my sorrow, my troubles.

He clearly tells me in Matthew 16:24-25:

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone wants to become my follower, he must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.  For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it."

This life is not mine.  I was bought with a price - his life.  My purpose here is to be a vessel of God's love, through the unique gifts and talents he has bestowed upon me.  The only way I can do that is through his strength and community.  God's purposes are always eternal and he accomplishes them through relationships because he is a relational God.

The cross was a horrific death, and yet, he tells me to pick up my cross daily.  To surrender my will, my desires, my "self."  And when I do all of those things, I will find true life - life everlasting.  

So when I think about each of my girls and the needs they came home with, both known and unknown, I'm convinced that God used my YES to shift eternity for each of them.

Waiting potential adoptive parents say to me all the time that they want a child with minor needs.  I get it because I was once that person.  However, I want to shake them and tell them that just navigating trauma alone is a severe need.  Every single child who is adopted suffers a primal wound - the loss of birth family, and in the case of international adoption, language and culture too.  A significant part of their identity is missing and for the rest of their life, it will be a permanent question mark.   Everyone wants a quick process and minor needs, but that's not the majority of international adoption processes.

I am in a unique situation and my family is atypical - we are a transracial family, led by a single woman, with four internationally adopted girls.  We are the underdog.  By faith, I stepped into the abyss of the frightening unknown.  I came home with way more than I bargained for; yet, God has never left us.  He continues to provide every single thing we need - from shelter, food, and transportation to medical specialists of every kind.  He provides medicines, therapies, and procedures.  He provides a community of other adoptive parents that just get it.  I don't have to explain anything, they just know and in that knowing, provide comfort and encouragement.

Adoption is not easy.   The genesis is profound loss and therefore, should not be easy.  I learned through saying yes to things that terrified me that God would never forsake me and even more, he would never forsake my daughters.  He is passionate about caring for the orphans and the widows.  I've seen more miracles being on this adoption journey than I would bet most people ever see in their lifetime.  When you say YES to adoption, God is committed to seeing you through it.  I'm not saying he is committed to making it easy, because that would be a bald-faced lie; however, He will never leave.  Nothing, and I mean nothing, will separate me from his love.  No diagnosis, no sadness, no anger, no despair, no moments of distrust, no loneliness nor depression - nothing.  I know this because his word is true.  He promises in Romans 8:28 -

"That neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor ANYTHING ELSE in ALL CREATION, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus." 

Last year, I went through hell and back after losing Sparrow.  It was the darkest, saddest, most faith-shaking season I've ever experienced but through it all, he never left me.  He walked with me through my grief, my anger, my sorrow, my questioning, my depression, my unbelief, and most of all, my fear of ever trusting him again.  He was big enough for all of it.  He peeled back layers and exposed deep wounds still in need of healing.  He gently lanced the cysts filled with the puss of sin and unforgiveness.  He cleansed my spirit and bound up my wounds.  I learned an invaluable truth from that situation:  his grace and love are bigger than I can imagine.  They are all encompassing and readily available to me as I stumble through this life.  Because of this knowledge, I know that whatever unknown comes our way, he will provide everything we need and will walk with us every step of the way - the hard, the scary, the sad.

I can't fathom not having each of my girls home with me.  I can't even comprehend my life without them.  Were their needs beyond anything for which I was prepared?  Absolutely.  Have I been scared out of my mind since getting home?  Without a doubt.  But I would never, ever in a million years trade any of it.  I love my girls with everything that I am.  I'm not a perfect mom, but each and every day I strive to love them with the love of Christ.  We soldier on knowing that he will meet us exactly where we are.  He will never leave us.  And that is what makes saying YES worth everything.

Not the Highlight Reel

My perspective on adoption has evolved since I started my journey.  In the beginning, I was super self-focused.  I was excited to become a mom!  I couldn't wait to adopt a healthy infant, because... it was all about Me and My wants.  What I could handle.  What I wanted.  My dreams.  My longings.  I didn't want messy.  I didn't want special needs.  I wanted picture perfect.  I wanted those beautiful moments.  The Hallmark card.  The perfect story.  My daughter would be named Sofia because that was My girl name.  The name I wanted for My daughter forever.  Me.  Me.  Me.

I spent hours upon hours watching Gotcha Day videos.  I imagined the day some orphanage worker would place a beautiful baby in my arms, the camera would zoom in on my face, tears streaming down my cheeks, everyone filled with joy!  The moment captured forever when we became family and everyone lived happily ever after.  Can you see it?

And then God said, "we'll see about that my child, because I have a different plan."  He let my heart marinate in loss.  While the juices of sorrow soaked in, a funny thing happened.  My heart became tender to the things for which God's heart is tender.  And when it had been saturated enough, He brought the sweetest six-year-old into my life.  I'm so incredibly thankful God didn't give me my way.  

As I've continued on this path, other scales have fallen from my eyes.  Their extraction has been in large part, due to my children.  I look back at videos of my first two adoptions and cringe at things I did.  I was naive.  Even though I had read and researched VOLUMES on trauma and attachment disorders and been through hours of training, I can clearly see my mistakes.  Behaviors I mistook for attachment were clearly survival skills.  Two steps forward, three steps backwards.  We trudge along.

Right around Roopa's family day celebration, snuggled up in bed one night, we were talking about our trip to India.  We talked about the day we met Roopa and our time in India.  It was extremely traumatic for her.  Nervously laughing, Roopa said, "I thought you kidnapped me."  Her remark caught me off guard.  I looked at her and with fear in her eyes but mustering all the courage she had, she timidly asked, 

"Did you kidnap me, Mom?"

My heart shattered into a million little pieces.  Sorrow filled my being as I thought about the weight of that ugly lie she had been carrying in her heart for three years.  How many times had she looked at me and wondered?  How many times had she shoved that deep down within her?  How many times had she denied herself the answer to that question?  How many times did she wrestle with loving me and reconciling her emotions over the fear of the answer to that question?

I told her immediately I understood how it seemed completely logical that I kidnapped her.  Here I was, a total and complete stranger.  I looked nothing like any other woman she had ever seen.  I had blue eyes.  Blonde hair.  Funny looking skin.  I smelled different.  I didn't speak her language.  And I took her from the woman who, for all intents and purposes, was her "mom."  Even though she was a woman who worked at the orphanage, she had taken care of Roopa since the very first day she arrived at the orphanage.   So, in Roopa's mind, I kidnapped her from her mom.  I'm quite certain that many children who are adopted, have very similar emotions.

Thankfully, Roopa witnessed me go through two adoption processes.  I talked to her about all of the paper stacks for Mohini and Dove.  We talked about driving to the state capital for the apostille process.  We talked about how I had to get blood drawn.  We talked about the social worker coming to our house.  We talked trips to the bank, to the post office, to staples to make a zillion copies.  We talked about the fire marshall coming to our house to do the fire inspection.  We talked about all of the hoops I had to jump through to get to the point we are at now in Dove's process.  I told her, I had to do all of that for her!  I did not kidnap her.  I adopted her and it took a very long time.  I'm glad she asked me that question and she let me tell her exactly how she became my daughter.

These are the conversations you don't see in the youtube adoption fairytales.  

In January, I received two short videos of Dove.  I showed them to my neighbor.  The first thing she said was, "She's an old soul."

She's right.  She is.  You can see it in her eyes.  There is a loss.  A deeper understanding.  The other day, I received two more videos of sweet Dove.  We were able to send her a little book of us.  She saw our faces and our names.  As she is looking through this little book, she gets overwhelmed and looks off to the side.  And there it is.  That look.  So much loss.  Her little best friend was with her.  He is being adopted by an European family.  I don't know if he will be gone before we get her or not.  He was also in the videos I received in January.  This is a special relationship for her.  Another major loss.  So much change.  Her entire life is being decided for her.  Everything is changing and she has no say whatsoever.  Can you imagine?  How stressful that would be?  Obviously, a family is ultimately better than living in an orphanage.  But, these precious children already come with such loss and endure so much brokenness.  When I watched those videos I thought, this is a truer reflection of what our kids suffer and a more realistic portrayal of adoption.  

When it's time for us to finally go get our Sweet Dove, we are anticipating some intense grieving.  I'm mentally preparing myself for our trip to be similar to how Roopa grieved.  Roo told me that she's going to sing lullabies to her.  She has a compassionate heart and an understanding I can never know.  I think about my little family and our mosaic and how God has knit us together so perfectly in our brokenness and imperfections.  We pray for Dove every night.  We pray for her tender heart.  We pray that she will let us love her through her transition.  We pray that peace will override fear.  We've been praying this verse for our family and continue to pray it for Dove as her life nears a new dawn.  

"For I am about to do something new.

See, I have already begun!  Do you not see it?

I will make a pathway through the wilderness.

I will create rivers in the dry wasteland."

Isaiah 43:19

Surrendered Faith

My "word" for 2017 was metamorphosis.

I'd say this year hit that nail on the head.

I am not the same person I was on December 31, 2016.  However, my vision of what I thought the word metamorphosis would mean in my life versus God's version are polar opposite.

This past year, my faith has been stretched, bruised, snapped, and fractured.  The beautiful result of all the trials and heartache I've endured is a depth in my relationship with Christ that I've never before experienced.   I've grown in ways I didn't know were possible and quite honestly, ways that my human self never would have chosen.  

Losing Sparrow the very hour I was finally able to be matched with her has been brutal.  I covered her in prayer for almost a year.

And then, she was gone.  

It threw me into a tailspin of questioning; a vicious cycle of never-ending whys.  Why did God allow that?  Why did he bring her into my life?  Why did he knit her so deeply into my heart?  Why did he give me such a powerful dream about her?  Why did he provide signs and assurance along the way?  Why did he open the pathway to her just to slam the door at the last minute?  Why did he allow me to experience such excruciating heartbreak?  All of those and more led to further questioning:  

Do I even know God's voice?

I've been a believer and follower of Christ for many, many years and this question shook me to the core.  I thought I knew his voice.  I study his word.  I pray all of the time.  I seek wise counsel.  How could I have been so far off?  It's like I took a hard left when really I was supposed to go right.

I was content to be finished with adoption.  My girls have been the biggest blessings ever and I'm beyond thankful I get to be their mom.  They are thriving and we were ready for the next chapter.

And then he brought me Sparrow.

I go over and over and over all of the details but I never get an answer to my why.  This last month since I lost her, has felt like my faith played a giant game of Jenga.  I pulled perseverance from the bottom and precariously perched it on top.  Hope was drawn out from the middle and I tried to slide it in next to perseverance.  Trust was pulled and gently placed on hope.  Finally, I carefully extracted faith from the foundation of this structure and gingerly placed it at the very top.  

And it all came crashing down.

In my tirade of emotions, I took my arm, angrily swiped it over the panel, and sent the pieces hurling into the air.

I sat staring at the blank game board of my life.

Where do I go from here?  How do I move forward?  This adoption journey has consumed the last eight years of my life.  I've been stuck in what feels like quicksand; a perpetual land of waiting, where the only movement I felt was the ground sinking beneath me.

***

I bought Roopa a Batman big wheel for Christmas.  She didn't even know they existed.  It came complete ~ decked out with stickers, rims, and alllllll the buttons you ever wanted to push.  Each one with flashing lights and a corresponding command:  "Moving left!"  "Let's get to work!" and of course, the Batman theme.  This gift elevated me to new heights in Roopa's mind.  Her eyes filled with wonder and excitement.

"Mommy, how did you even know I wanted this?  Oh, wait.  I know.  You used your mommy powers!"

I laughed and then grew quiet.

As Roopa's mom, I see her in ways others don't.  I know her heart.  I know her reactions.  I know her deepest desires and her greatest fears.  I know how she responds to correction.  I know how she processes new information.  I know how she learns and plays and thinks deeply about life. I know her gifts and talents.  I know where she needs growth.   I know all of these things and more because I am her mom and she is my daughter.  I spend almost every moment of every day with her.  I knew that she would love that gift.  I knew that because I know her. So even though Roopa had no knowledge of its existence, I knew.  And it brought me great joy to give it to her.

In my questioning and my doubt, God used Roopa to reveal more of himself to me.  I will never understand his ways.  I will never get an answer to my whys.  I will never be able to see things the way he sees them.  I will never understand his theology.  He will always be a mystery to me.  

The only thing I do know, is his character.  I know he is always good.  I know he loves me more than anyone ever could.  I know he will never leave me.  I know he is always with me ~ in the deepest depths of grief and the highest mountaintops of joy.  I know that his plans for me are good.  I know he wants to transform me; he leads me through the refiner's fire to make me more like Christ.  He is the potter.  I am the clay.  He molds, bends, and shapes me.  Sometimes, I become hardened, which makes his work more difficult.  He adds water through my tears spilled during trials and tribulations to once again bring me to a place of pliability.  

He is the God of the universe and the Creator of everything and everyone.

Who am I to even slightly begin to understand his ways, his thoughts, his plans?

So I enter 2018 with the words, "Surrendered Faith."  

I have no idea what his plans are for me or my family.  I don't know if he will bring Sparrow back to me.  I am hoping against hope he will.  I don't know what the next chapter will entail.

What I do know is that he loves me and wherever he calls me, it will be good.  It might not be good in the initial way I see it, but he has a way of washing away the dirt and dust that clouds the mirror through which I view myself.   He draws me closer to him so that I can see through his filter the beauty he has crafted within me.

I walk into this new year with a blank canvas, open arms, and no vision of my own.

I humbly await to see the brushes he puts into my hands and the colors he chooses for my palette.  

I know that by letting him guide my hand, whatever he paints into my life this year will be a masterpiece.  I've painted enough to know that a truly beautiful work of art is not just made of highlights.  Shadows are critical to the depth of emotion that is elicited from viewing such a showpiece. 

 I am at a point of total surrender; knowing that he will lead me to the mountaintops this year holds for me, but more importantly, he will carry me through the deepest, darkest valleys. 

I learned this truth, however painful it was.  

My God will always be with me.

"Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever."

Psalm 23:6

Deeper Still

I anticipated that Christmas was going to be hard.  And it was.  The waiting and hoping for God to fulfill his promise for Sparrow has been painful.  Excruciating.  I wish I could say that I've handled it like a champ, but I haven't.  I feel like I'm riding the longest, twisted roller coaster I've ever ridden.  I have days when I'm on top of the hill, full of excitement and hope for what God is doing, and then the next day I'm in the middle of a corkscrew rotation, upside down and completely disoriented. 

On Christmas Eve, I went to bed more discouraged than I've ever been.  My 98 year-old grandma had to have life-saving surgery two days prior to Christmas Eve.  Thankfully, she did great and is improving daily.  But traditions are important to me and it just felt weird that we weren't all celebrating Christmas Eve with the family at her house.  This is Mohini's first Christmas and every year since Munni came home, we've had our picture taken in front of her tree.  I was looking forward to getting our picture with Mohini in front of that tree!  It sounds dumb I know, but it just was more sadness that things were "off" and changing.  Instead, we celebrated in the ICU.

We got home from the hospital and started to do our nightly routine, when Munni frantically called to me that Honeybee couldn't get up from the floor.  She is our 16 year-old boxer that we took in when she was 13.  I ran to the living room and she was clearly in distress.  I'm pretty certain she had a seizure.   She lost control of her bowels, was breathing erratically, vacant stares, and her tongue and lips did not look right.  We laid her on the new dog bed, prayed for her, said our goodbyes, and cried.  The girls went to bed and I had to put Roopa's big wheel together.  

Merry Christmas to us.  

By time I finished the big wheel, Honeybee was still breathing, but things did not look good.  I went to bed and cried.  Thoughts raged through my mind about how this was the worst year ever and I couldn't wait for it to be over.  Waking up to a dead dog on Christmas morning was the icing on the cake.  Really, God?  Is this what stepping out in faith looks like?  I don't want to do this if it is.  

2017 was a difficult year in many aspects.  My beloved dog, Rollie, died in July.  Several of my close friends are dealing with profound grief.  Mohini coming home was a huge adjustment.   She is a great little girl and we love her, but her age has been a huge challenge for all of us.  How we lived our life before she came home is nothing like how we live now.  We've had to adjust everything.  And right when we were finally getting our footing back, her brain MRI and hearing tests came back that she is deaf in her left ear and has brain damage in two parts.  Shocked can't even describe my reaction.  Through all of this, was the underlying waiting for Sparrow.  

Hoping, praying, believing. 

 When I found out on my dad's birthday that she had been matched with another family, it felt like a nightmare  from which I could not wake.

As I reflected on all of this, I barely slept Christmas Eve.  My heart was heavy, broken, and in complete despair.  Finally, I got up and went into the living room to start the Christmas morning tradition of lighting the fire, putting on Christmas music, making much needed coffee, and preparing to feign excitement for the girls.  I had already decided that I would wrap Honeybee in a towel and put her in the garage until I could take her to get cremated.  This was not how I wanted to start Christmas morning.  I literally could not believe my eyes when I walked into the living room and she popped her head up, eyes alert, and then GOT UP and walked over to me in that traditional boxer wiggle!  I immediately thanked God for reviving her.  It was as if nothing had happened.  I felt a little excitement welling in my soul and thought maybe this Christmas won't be so horrible after all.  I got my camera ready and stood in place so that I could capture their expressions as they walked out and saw some of the "big hitter" gifts that were on display.   I called the girls and told them they could come out.  They walked around the corner, took one glance at the cornucopia of presents, and then all three of them ran right past their gifts, through the living room, and directly into my arms to give me a giant hug, and wished me a Merry Christmas.  Queue the tears.  In that moment, I realized that at least I have done one thing right.  My girls value our family, our relationships, above all else.  Their early morning display of affection and love was the best Christmas gift!

We spent all day at my mom and dad's house; it was the perfect distraction from my thoughts.

The day after Christmas I crashed.  It felt like God was never going to answer.  I was not in a good place.  Each time I hit these horrible lows, he always provides the encouragement I need through dear friends and strangers from across the world.

I received several emails and messages from people in countries far away.  Messages of hope, encouraging me in this fight for Sparrow, standing with me in prayer and belief that God will bring her back to me.

One dear friend set me straight and told me that Jesus waited two days and let Lazarus die.  Could Jesus have gone and healed him immediately when they told him that Lazarus was sick? Certainly.  Lazarus' sisters, Martha and Mary, sent word to Jesus that "the one he loved" was very ill.  But that was not his plan.  Even though Jesus intended something far greater than what they could imagine by bringing Lazarus back from the dead, he still met Martha and Mary in their grief and wept with them.  

Jesus has also met me in my grief.  He has not taken away the pain; instead, he has provided compassionate fellowship.  He's given me encouragement from friends and strangers who are praying with me.  Their words of wisdom, love, and support have carried me through the most difficult  moments.  Every day, I wake up and pray that Jesus will take my hand and walk me through the day, leading me through the dark parts and helping me to steady my eyes on him.  

This has been the most difficult faith journey I've ever experienced.  I pray and pray and pray and ask for discernment - should I abandon this hope that he will bring her back to me?  Should I pursue another child?  Should I stop all together?

Every single time, he answers me with the dream he gave me in May, and even though I've been riddled with pain, there is peace knowing I'm exactly where he wants me to be.  It's taken time to get to that realization and acceptance.

The girls and I have a dream of one day owning a farm.  We've been praying about it for almost 2 years.  We talk about it daily.  My mom gave us a vegetable growing kit for Christmas which led to a discussion of how we anticipate our farm will look and what purposes it will serve.  God used this conversation to minister to me.

Growing food takes much waiting.  In between the time of planting the seed until the harvest is much "dead" time.  Above ground, it appears as if nothing is happening.  We can't see the seed.  We can't see what's going on in the soil underneath our feet.  We can't see the effects the sun, heat, moisture, and pressure have on the seed that eventually causes the hull to break apart and allows the tiny roots to burst forth.  We can't see those roots slowly digging deeper into the rich, moist soil, securing a solid foundation for growth.  None of that is visible.  Instead, it appears as if nothing is happening.  I thought back to all of the prayers I have prayed for Sparrow.  How God gently led me step by step.  I planted the seed in obedience.  And now, I have to wait and trust that like the forces of nature, God is preparing that seed for the harvest.  He knows the time when that precious green shoot will force its way out of the ground to be seen by all.  

What a glorious day that will be!

But for now, I wait.  I trust.  I believe.

And in my dark moments, I remind myself that like the seed underground, I can't see the spiritual realm.  I can't see the work God is accomplishing and I can't see the foundation he is preparing.  And isn't that exactly what faith is?  Trusting in what can't be seen.  Having confidence in what we hope for and assurance in what we can not see.

I can't thank everyone enough for all of your love and support with which you have covered me.  It is invaluable and priceless!  Please keep praying with me, you have been a wellspring to my soul!

Not By Sight

May 26, 2017, God gave me a specific promise about Our Little Sparrow that she is ours.  Even though it right now it seems impossible, I know that God's promise will prevail.  

He does not lie.  

He intended her for our family and on the day that I can finally share her story, it will be clear TO ALL how perfect his plan is and why she fits perfectly in our family.  

It. Will. Blow. Your. Mind.

So now, I'm patiently waiting as the Holy Spirit continues his work, removing the mountains that stand in the way of bringing God's promise to fruition.

Can I get a witness? Amen to the glory of God!

All Is Well

I've been in the spiritual ICU since Tuesday.  Those who have been faithful in walking this journey with me for Little Sparrow rushed to my side and they have not left.  Their words of truth, comfort, encouragement, and faith have coursed through my heart the way an IV mainlines life saving fluids.

These last days have been the yin yang of utter grief and faith that makes absolutely no sense.  

This arduous battle is stretching my faith beyond comprehension.  I know I sound crazy.  I know it.  But I also know the promise that God knit into my heart.  I was not looking for her.  He brought her to me.  He asked me to trust and pursue her.  I did.  In his wisdom and love, he gave me a touchstone so powerful because he knew this moment would arrive.  He knew I needed it and that I would cling to it while everything around me shook my faith.  It is a pillar of his love that I wrap my arms around, knowing it steadies me as I navigate the landmines waiting to explode with every step I take.

Many people have reached out to me with good intentions.  In their attempt to comfort, they told me it wasn't meant to be.  They told me she was a doorway to another.  They told me I can't adopt them all.  They told me it was someone else's turn to experience the love I have with my daughters.  They told me to be grateful for what I have.

But none of those things are the truth.

Faith is the bold belief in the unseen.  It is trusting in what cannot be controlled by man.  It is believing wholeheartedly when nothing makes sense.

There are many who think I am foolish for believing God.  To them I say, I will gladly be a fool for Christ.  His ways are not our ways.  And even though Sparrow's entire story has not been revealed, I am proclaiming the truth He spoke so very clear to my heart:

She is my daughter.

I know she is coming home.  Even more, I know that it is only by the power of his hand that she is.  Everything that man can control has been done in this situation.  I am now waiting on his hand to move.  Faith is putting ourselves into situations that are so completely beyond our control that we can only say, but God.  It is knowing that what is impossible for man, is possible with God.  It is remembering how he parted seas, moved mountains, made the sun stand still, and raised the dead.  It is walking in full confidence towards his purposes in spite of what the world tells us and circumstances that appear grim.  It is risky to proclaim faith.  What if.  What if . What if.  I can play mind games with myself all day long but I always come back to God's word and his character.  He is good.  He is loving.  He is just.

God doesn't lie.

So in those weak moments after I've made bold claims of faith and immediately the pitbulls of doubt and fear viciously chase me, I climb his tree of life and find peace on the branches of his Word.  His truth stands forever and will not be shaken.

It is not easy by any means.  I have moments where I ride the crest of faith so smoothly and in the next, I lose my balance and crash into the turbulence of trepidation and disbelief.  In all of that, Christ is tethered to me like a surfboard to my ankle.  He does not leave me.  Though I may get knocked around, I do not drown.

My dear friend who shares my name spoke such life into me yesterday.  She has walked this journey with me from 2009.  She's been by my side to witness God move mountains and make rough places plain.  She encouraged me with the story of the Shunammite woman found in 2 Kings 4 (paraphrased):

Elisha went to her and told her after many years of barrenness, she would have a son.  She told him not to lie to her.  Sure enough, the next year a son was born to her.  He grew and flourished.  Then one day, he died in her lap.

She hid him away in her room, saddled her donkey, and went straight to Elisha.  Along the way, people inquired of her and she simply responded, "All is well."

All is well.

Once she reached Elisha, she confronted him.  She told him she did not ask for a son, yet he gave her one and now he is dead.  She told him to make his promise right and resurrect her son.  Elisha went to her son and prayed.  God raised him from the dead.

My friend reminded me that I was not looking to adopt again.  I did not seek her out.  God brought her to me.  He knit her in my heart and asked me to step out in faith once again.  I did. 

The words my friend spoke next brought me to tears.  She told me that God needs to resurrect Sparrow's adoption.  She reminded me that God does not lie.

Late yesterday, my caseworker called me.  She all but told me to give up that it was a done deal.  I told her I would not.  I told her I believe God to be true to his word and I believe this family will unmatch with Sparrow and she will come back to me.

Am I a fool for believing this?  Maybe.  If people ridicule me for standing on his truth, so be it.  Faith is crazy.  Faith is insane.  I believe that God has a greater purpose and allowed her to be initially matched with this family, as painful as it is.  He could have very easy allowed me to match with her.  But he didn't.  He released her the very hour I was approved.  Two years on the waiting list and the exact moment I can match, she is gone.  His sovereign hand is writing a story bigger than I could have imagined and larger than what I can see.  I know it is for his good purposes and that is what strengthens me.  

Abraham went forward with Isaac to the top of the mountain to sacrifice him to the Lord.  He did not waiver.  He trusted that somehow, God would provide.  Or, God would resurrect his son.  Whatever his thoughts, his faith proved that he wholeheartedly trusted God with very thing most precious to him.  At the very last moment, God intervened and provided another sacrifice.  Abraham's faith grew and God was glorified.

I pray that God is glorified through Sparrow's story.  I already know that my faith is growing.  But most of all, I pray that my actions, my words, my beliefs - that all of me - brings honor to God.

Turn my heart, O Lord, like rivers of water, 

Turn my heart, O Lord, by Your hand;

Till my whole life flows in the river of Your Spirit, 

And my name brings honor to the Lamb

Heartbroken

After two years on the waiting list, after 47 weeks of praying for her, after 31 weeks of having a God-given dream about her adoption, today, in the very hour that I was finally approved to move forward,

Our little Sparrow was matched.

But not with me.

I can't even put into words all of the emotions I felt and continue to feel.

We are heartbroken.  Roopa has faithfully prayed for her "twin" every single day.  She talks about her all the time and tells me in great detail all of the adventures she is planning to have with her once she is home.  She doesn't understand why on the day I received approval, another family beat us to match.

I spent most of the day in bed, crying, praying, questioning.

To say I was not in a good place is beyond an understatement.

How can this be?  There were SO MANY THINGS that confirmed she was ours.  Miracle after miracle occurred to get me where I am today in the process.

It was very tempting to go down all of the rabbit holes.  The abyss of "what ifs?"

What if I had started a week sooner?  What if my social worker wouldn't have delayed approving my home study?  What if the India team hadn't left for India right as my home study was being approved?  What if I had been uploaded one day sooner?  What if...?

And then there is the why?  Why would God lead me on this journey again when I was certain I was finished growing my family?  The adoption journey is not fun.  It is torturous.  The last thing I wanted to do was be in process again.  Why would he give me that dream?  Why did he give me the other miraculous confirmations?  

But the biggest why I have asked all day is, why did God allow me to get to the HOUR of approval just for someone else to match with her?  Why would he allow my heart to break in ways I didn't know were possible?

This morning during my devotional before I even heard the news, I meditated on Psalm 25.  Throughout the psalm, his word proclaims that those who hope in the Lord will not be ashamed.  A few short hours later, I found myself struggling to believe this.

I could hear the ridicule already.  You were foolish to believe.  Why did you think God would hold her for you?  You should have guarded Roopa's heart.  What a fool to believe in God.  You say he's a loving God, but what kind of loving God would do that?  What kind of loving God would time it just so?  It felt incredibly cruel.

I was nauseous all day.  My mind clouded by the tornado of fear, grief, and doubt that swirled in my thoughts.

I cried out to him, begging for anything.

He answered me. 

 He sent his love through my dearest friends.  He sent his love through the words of compassion, empathy, and sorrow from other adoptive moms.  He sent his love through the texts, the messages, and the phone calls from my family and friends.  He held me up with their wisdom and empathy and he righted my path.

It has been a slippery slope but I refuse to allow bitterness, anger, and unbelief finish her story.

I am clinging to his word.  I am hanging onto the truths I know deep within my spirit.  I know that he is a loving God.  His plans for me are for a future and hope, for good and not for evil.  I remembered Job and how after he had lost everything, he still blessed the name of the Lord.

And so I lay prostrate before him, confessing the wondrous things he has done in my life.  He has brought complete transformation to me and my girls.  He bathed us in his love and his healing.  Today, he reminded me that his way are not my ways.  Although I may not understand, he is still at work within me and for me and around me.  

I believe that I am in the midst of the greatest test of my faith.  Will I still love him if she doesn't come home?  Will I still praise his name if she does not become my daughter?  Will I fully, completely, and with total abandon, surrender to him and his will for my life?  Even when that means certain heartache?

Six years ago this month, I was in the exact same spot with Munni.  I had been praying for her every single day and waiting on the India program to end its suspension.  

The agency with whom I found her informed me that they could not help me bring her home.

Utter devastation took over me.

God stripped me of my heart's deepest desire and in the most excruciating moment of my life, I let her go.  

I surrendered her to God.  

Broken in every way, I sacrificed my one true desire and told him that if there was a better family out there for her, so be it.

As I write this, Munni is reading next to me.  

Tears won't stop falling as I am reminded of  the incredible and miraculous journey he led me on to make us a family.

So here I am again.  

Broken.  Weary.  Grieving. Shattered.

Will he once again write a miraculous story that ends with Our Little Sparrow somehow coming home to us?

Or will it be a different ending?

With every fiber of my being, I want her with us, part of our family.  

My knees will be bloody from begging.

I am hoping beyond hope that he makes the way for her to come home.

But once again, I am on the mountain with my Isaac.

I lay Our Little Sparrow at his feet and surrender her to him.

He knows the perfect family for her.

He knows the perfect daughter/sister for us.

Although I'm wringing my hands in prayer that he will declare us to be her family and for her to be our daughter/sister,

I have to trust in who he says he is, his power that holds up the universe, and that every single thing he does is for the good of those who love him.

And somehow, at the end of all of this, I will glorify his name.

Then Job arose, tore his robe, and shaved his head; and he fell to the ground and worshiped.  And he said:

"Naked I came from my mother's womb,

And naked shall I return there.

The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away;

Blessed be the name of the Lord."

In all this Job did not sin nor charge God with wrong.

I Won't Fear Love

I thought I was done.

I had peace that I was done.

5 dossiers, 2 country closures, 7 years of waiting and being in the adoption process.

I was done.

At the end of 2016, shortly after being registered for court for Mohini, 7 different people asked me if I was going to adopt a 4th child.

My answer to all of them was the same, "It's not that I wouldn't love to parent another child, but I just don't have it in me to go through the process again.  It's arduous, stressful, and the waiting is excruciating."

The last person to ask me if I was going to do a 4th, was my caseworker who has been an integral part of bringing all three of my girls home.  I told her that I would never say no to God, but he would have to use a lightning strike to make it obvious that he wanted me to pursue another child.  We both laughed and went on with our conversation.

Early January 2017, the day after Munni Bird's eye surgery, I was on the India board and an adoptive mama asked if anyone knew of a child with limb differences.  She was hoping for a referral.  Back in April 2016, when I was assembling my home study for my 3rd Indian adoption, I found a little two-year girl who absolutely stole my heart.  She was missing her left arm.  I tried and tried for the little two-year-old, but the orphanage never responded to any of my caseworker's requests for information.  Sadly, I knew she wouldn't be my daughter.  I never stopped praying for her though and eventually, I found out that she was finally matched with a family in December of 2016.  The agency who advocated for the little two-year-old, also advocated for another baby girl; she was born without an arm and the other was malformed.  She was much younger than the age for which I was approved, but her sweet face stuck in my memory.  When the woman on the India board asked about a child with limb differences, I immediately thought of that little baby and went to investigate if she was still available.

I scrolled quickly through the files, looking for that particular baby girl.

And then God stopped me in my tracks.

A little face stared back at me that resembled Munni's referral picture.

I felt a little zing.

I clicked on her reference number and read the short description about "R."  My heart started beating quickly and I knew God was doing something.  What he was doing I hadn't a clue, but one thing was sure, he stirred my heart.

I continued looking for the baby, but she was no longer listed.  This meant that she had been matched!

***

I could not stop thinking about "R."  I prayed and prayed and prayed.  I felt a heaviness leave me and it was replaced with a sense of surrender and peace.

Who was I to say no to God?  I thought about how long Munni waited for me to find her.  Family after family passed over her.  I realized through "R's" picture that if God wanted me to pursue another child, I would do it.  I would not fear love.  He calls us to love one another, and even lay down our lives for those in need.  He is the one who would give me the strength to complete it.

I continued to pray for "R."  After a few days, I sensed God pushing me so I finally asked for her file.

I opened the email and clicked on the attachment.

Only it wasn't "R."

It was another little girl.

It was Our Little Sparrow.

I read her file and my heart broke.

She had suffered a horrific injury.

I sat back in my chair and thought about several events and circumstances that occurred in my family.

It was the very beginning of me hearing God whisper that we were a perfect fit.

***

I advocated intensely for "R."  I have a team of prayer partners who are committed to praying for the little ones that I bring to their attention and they prayed for her as well.

Her medical needs were severe and on top that, she was in a very difficult orphanage, known to be cantankerous towards adoptive parents and purposely slow in their end of the process.

A month after seeing her face, I was informed that she was matched with the most perfect family for her.  One of the parents is a neurologist and has a firm understanding of her medical needs and the complexities that accompany them.

When I got the call, I cried tears of joy.  What a loving God we have that he orchestrated the perfect family to come forward for her!

***

Our Little Sparrow still weighed heavy on my heart and I continued to pray for her.  I was in no position emotionally or financially to even consider another adoption, but a little seed had been planted in my heart.  I continued to water it with prayer.

***

While in Delhi for Mohini's adoption, we ended up having to go to the central office of the department that approves every single adoption in India ~ whether domestic or international.

It was a spiritual experience for me.  I couldn't believe I was standing in the place that is responsible for allowing children to find their forever families.  I thought about all three of my girls, the paperwork, the tears, the prayers, the waiting.  I spent 45 minutes in that office and during that time, I prayed for every single family I knew who was waiting for approval.  I prayed for Our Little Sparrow.  I prayed that her forever family would find her... and if we were her family, that we would receive great favor from the Indian government.  It was a holy experience.

***

May 26th, I had a prophetic dream about Our Little Sparrow.  I woke up knowing immediately that God was giving me a message.

I asked my friend to have her prayer team interpret the dream.  I was blown away by their responses.  

She was ours.

In addition, they told me several key truths to hold onto as touchstones.

A week after their interpretation, one major touchstone came to fruition in a very public way!  I was astounded!

I continued to pray and trust.  I was still months away from being able to start the process and yet, there she remained on the waiting list, where she had been for over a year.

***

September 7th, I contacted my home study agency and told her that I was going to do one more adoption.  I had NO idea how this would come to fruition, but I knew I needed to continue walking in faith.

I called several adoption agencies, but one in particular.  This agency had been advocating for her since before I found her.  The intake counselor suggested that I have their India program director reach out to the Indian government to see if they would allow me to pursue her adoption being a single parent with three children.  She didn't want me to invest money in the event they said no.

This sounded great to me!  She said we should hear back in 2-3 days.

So I waited.

A week passed and I didn't hear anything.  I emailed the program director and she told me we should have heard something by now, so she emailed again.

I waited.

Another week went by and still no news.

***

September 18th, the girls and I went to The Ark Encounter with my parents.

What an incredible experience!

As I walked through the levels of that humongous boat, looking at all of the details that went into the construction of it, the design, the planning, God once again stopped me in my footsteps.

It took Noah more than fifty years to build the ark.  

Fifty years!

I could not even begin to imagine the ridicule, the waves of doubt, the scorn, moments of weakness, and fear Noah must have felt.

How many times did he think himself a fool?  No one in his village had ever seen a body of water that would accommodate a ship that size.

In spite of all that, he walked in obedience building that ark; and through his obedience, he became the vessel through which God saved humanity.

I sat on a bench and fought back tears.  God asked me for my obedience and I stumbled.  

Many, many times, God calls us to be obedient to things that look insane to the world.  

It's in those places where we see God show up and display his magnificent glory and power.

God gave me touchstones and I cast them aside.

In humble realization, I emailed the agency and informed them that I was officially applying for the India program.

I knew in my heart that I would not hear a word from India until I committed.  God was testing my faith and it was my turn to step out of the safety of my plans and leap into the glorious place of faith, the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1).

I went home, completed the application, and mailed the check.

September 27th, I was officially accepted into the India program.

***

Today, October 5th, I received an email from the Indian program director.  

She informed me that she talked with the Indian department since she never received an email back from them.

They told her I was approved to move forward with Our Little Sparrow's adoption and upon my home study being uploaded to their website, I will be officially matched with her.

What an amazing story our God is writing for this sweet, precious child!

"By faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that the things which are seen were not made of things which are visible." ~ Hebrews 11:3

I 

Mohini True Home Forever!

So many emotions wrapped up in this video.  I have a gazillion unwritten blog posts in my mind to describe all that we experienced while we were in India, but for now...

Much love to all of you who have followed along showering us with your love, support, encouragement, and prayers!

Tag Her Bag!!

We are THRILLED to be entering the LAST leg of this incredible journey!!  Bottom line:  We would LOVE to write your name on Sweet Mohini's bag!  Roopa's bag is an absolute treasure and we desire the same for Mohini True!  No amount is too small ~ whether it is one dollar or one thousand dollars! We want to write YOUR name on her bag!

Click HERE

if you would like to donate and have your name written on her bag!

#lovemakesafamily

IT'S OFFICIAL!!!!!!!!!! SHE'S OURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A Modern Twist...

Here's the story
Of a lovely lady
Who was bringing up three very lovely girls
None of them had hair of gold
Like their mother
The youngest one she longed to hold...

We are excited to share that we are adding one more chickadee to our family nest!  Munni, Roopa, and I are thrilled to be on this journey one last time to complete our family!

I am about 3/4 of the way through the home study and half way through the dossier.  There are so many exciting things for us on the horizon, and this littlest princess is at the top of the list!  I am not yet matched with a child but we pray for Baby #3 everyday.  Summer will be a very exciting time for us!  We would appreciate your prayers as we embark again on this amazing journey to bring home our precious, awaited baby girl!

A Whole Lotta Everything

This summer was filled with every emotion imaginable.  I am extremely grateful for the moments of joy and peace because those moments helped get us through the rest.  By the end, I was completely worn out. Spent. Exhausted. Empty.  Ready for a new season.  One of the blessings that came out of the hard times is that I really grew in the area of taking it one day at a time.  Although I am far from perfecting that, I definitely reached a new level.  There were numerous circumstances of which I had no control - and that forced me to surrender each day to the Lord.  

During one overwhelmingly emotional week, God clearly spoke to me - at my bird feeder.  It was in the morning, the girls were still sleeping, and I was making coffee.  I looked out the kitchen window at the early morning sun and saw that the bird feeder was dangling empty from the Birch tree.  Ugh.  One more thing for which I was responsible.  The dogs were looking at me expectantly, waiting to go outside, and I was feeling overwhelmed.  I know that probably sounds stupid, but I hadn't been paid since the beginning of January so every little responsibility seemed like a mountain on my shoulders.  I told myself I would fill it later and kept going about my morning routine.  But something kept gnawing at my heart and finally I decided I would walk out to the tree and fill it.  I grabbed the half full bucket of bird food and went outside.  The dogs ran around the yard being their normal, crazy selves.  I walked out to the tree, head down, and unhooked the bird feeder.  This particular feeder has the middle part with the glass windows for the seed and then two wire sidebars for suets.  As I unhooked the feeder, it spun around and on the side I couldn't see when I first grabbed it, was a small sparrow who had gotten himself wedged into the wire suet holder.  It startled me at first!  The tiny sparrow stared up at me.  I set the bucket down and sat on the rock to try and help this little bird.  He was stuck so tightly that I was afraid I would break one of his wings or little legs.  As I gingerly moved him to determine if it was better to push him through or pull him back out, I felt God whisper to me, "You've spent 15 minutes caring for this tiny sparrow.  How much more do I care for you?"  And then the verse popped into my mind:

"Are not two sparrows sold for a cent?  And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  So do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows." - Matthew 10:29-31

Tears ran down my face as I continued to free the little bird.  When he finally emerged unscathed from his temporary prison, he sat in my hand and looked up at me.  It seemed as if time stood still.  That little sparrow and I held eye contact while he sat in my hand.  What an incredible lesson God taught me through that sweet, little bird.  And then the spell was broken and he flew away.  I could feel joy and peace flood my heart.  Throughout the summer, I revisited that moment many times.  When things got hard and I started to worry and doubt, I was able to focus on that touchstone which God so lovingly gave to me!

Here are some of the ways that God completely blessed and showered us with his love!  In June, the girls were in a mini-documentary about adoption.  This film is being entered into numerous film festivals and will be released in November during National Adoption Month.  The best part is that the film is being donated to the Cincinnati Children's International Adoption Clinic to help raise awareness about the plight of orphans around the world and the health issues that accompany many of them.  You can check out more about the group Found, here.  I can't wait to see this at the CIA's fundraiser in November!  Also, this year BOTH Munni and Roopa will be in the fashion show!  Munni is already planning their outfits lol!

One of the biggest factors contributing to my anxiety was trying to figure out childcare for Roopa once I returned to work in August.  I found an amazing nanny who loves Jesus and loves my girls.  This was a HUGE answer to prayer.  Those mamas who have adopted and haven't had their kiddos home for long, understand all the complexities involved with having to leave your child in the care of another.  Our nanny has a beautiful heart and is an incredible blessing to us!  She even bought the girls these adorable shirts!

"I am fearfully and wonderfully made!" - AMEN!!!

Securing childcare for Roopita relieved a ton of pressure off of me.  Next, I was able to focus on both of the girls' medical procedures.  Due to scheduling conflicts, the procedures were pushed back until August.  On the 12th, I re-adopted Roopa in the state of Ohio and then immediately after the court hearing, headed to Wisconsin to meet with Greg Gion at The Medical Art Prosthetics Clinics & Anaplastologists.  I can not say enough about Dr. Greg!  He is an extremely talented, kind, and compassionate man.  He worked tirelessly for two days, crafting the cutest, little, prosthetic nose for Roopa!  It's an incredibly complex process and I learned so much from it!  We are truly blessed to have been able to work with him!

They love to match!  Traveling in style :)    

Roopa with her new prosthetic nose!

            

Once we got back home, I had to do a photo shoot :)  

 

Roopa is seriously nonstop comedy!

A week after we returned home, I had my first day back to school and Munni had her scar revision procedure.  It was more difficult and heartbreaking than I could have imagined.  God gave me supernatural strength to keep it together throughout the procedure.  I knew I had to be strong for her and I couldn't let get anything in the way of Munni knowing that I was there for her 110% to comfort and love her.  I wrote more about it here.  I don't want to revisit that ever again :(

My beautiful Munni Bird right before the procedure

Last minute snuggles with her little sister before she went back for the procedure

I will never be able to express my eternal gratitude to Dr. Jon Mendelsohn.  There aren't enough words to describe his compassion and kindness.  This procedure was unlike anything I would have ever anticipated because of the emotional triggers and flashbacks.  Even the nurses were crying and had to take turns leaving the room to wipe their eyes.  His professionalism coupled with his empathy was beyond anything I have ever experienced.  Blessed doesn't even describe how fortunate we are to be able to work with him.  My thankfulness runs deeper than words and to know that he is committed to my daughters' physical and emotional healing is a priceless gift!

Some wonderful friends dropped by with some "cheer you ups"  

The next day :(

These were an unexpected delivery from Dr. Jon!  It was the first smile in two days :)

Dr. Jon knew her nickname is Munni Bird.  This just shows his thoughtfulness sending her Birds of Paradise!

The wristbands were a big hit in the healing process!

I made this collage to show the immediate differences.  She still has several more procedures to go, but with each day it looks better and better!

looking beautiful and happy :)

Roopa has been struggling a bit with me returning to school.  It's a juggling act meeting everyone's needs and making sure I get some alone time with each of my girls. 

Roopa is so fun!

We were able to spend quite some time at a dear friend's pool.  Much to Munni's delight, they also have a pear tree.  On Labor day, she was finally able to pick a pear!

Everything about this picture makes me laugh!

September 11th is Roopa's "Happy Birthday" as she likes to call it :)  For the past month, she has been talking about turning 4.  I got a very pleasant surprise email from her orphanage.  They sent her an ecard birthday wish and said they have pictures from her first birthday.  They are still trying to find them but the fact that they remembered her birthday and sent a card, I know that she is greatly missed and was loved deeply.

Shortly after I was matched with Roopa, Munni and I celebrated her 2nd birthday.  We thought FOR SURE we would be celebrating her 3rd together as a family.  Instead, we celebrated another birthday without her home.  FINALLY, we got to celebrate Roopita's 4th birthday!!  She loves, loves, loves Doc McStuffins.  One of my very good friends makes cakes for fun.  I asked her if she would make a cake for Roopa's first birthday celebration with us and thankfully, she agreed!  I was blown away when I saw the finished product!!!  And not only did it look amazing but it was delicious!!!  THANK YOU CATIE!!!!!!

Doc McRoopa!!

I mean, how adorable is this cake??!!

When we were in India, we were gifted all of these beautiful, traditional Bhuj dresses!  These two had been planning for weeks which ones they would wear for Roopa's big celebration!

My two Indian princesses!!

Even though the rain forced us out of the original park plans and back home, Roopa had no trouble digging right in and opening her gifts!

She was so happy to get Doc McStuffins!

I love her so much!

Mommy Roopa!!

Being silly :)

This whole summer I have spent hours reflecting on God and his goodness.  One day I was having a philosophical discussion with a friend and it struck me that one of God's greatest gifts to us is hope.  Where would we be without it?  I look at my girls and that theme resonates so completely in both of their lives.  Each day is a new day - filled with hope and promise!  Hope leads to redemption and redemption leads to love.  For without love, there would be no redemption.  When I see Roopa and the joy that fills her little heart, I get a lump in my throat.  I think back to May of 2013 when God gave me the vision for the Spread More Love t-shirts.  I didn't know about Roopa yet, but God did.  And I can't think of a more appropriate quote that describes Roopa.  Everywhere this little girl goes, she puts a smile on stranger's faces.  She brightens days and brings happiness and laughter to others.  In the essence of her being, Roopa Joy spreads more love.