Monday, August 17, 2015

This time it was intentional...kind of.

It occurred to me the other day that I never posted my word for the year. I had big plans for a post. I even had it almost entirely written in my head.
And then life happened.
Somehow, this post just never got written.
So, here it is, my word for the year of 2015:

2015 was going to be the year I was intentional; intentional with my time, energy, words, and actions. So, while this year has turned out nothing like I thought it would, at least I can say that my lack of blogging since February was just that-- intentional. 

This year has been hard. 
In fact, I can honestly say it's been the hardest year of my adult life. 
I'll be blogging about this more some in the days and weeks to come, but here's the gist: 

*I left Emily. I left her in Congo amidst the political drama and the chaos and the hard life that faces women there each and every day. And it was awful. Loving her-- one of the easiest, most natural things I've ever done. Leaving her, however, challenged me in every possible way. I'm a protector at heart. It's just what I do for my people. And Emily? She's more than my people; she's my daughter.

* A few weeks after returning home from Congo, we received some horrible news regarding our adoption. I can't go into many details, but we found out about some serious injustices that had occurred in regards to our adoption and the adoption of several other children. We lost a lot of money and had to change agencies. I was heartbroken. Devastated. Literally sick about the things I learned. Emily was fine, and there was no reason to believe she wouldn't come home, but this grave injustice--I talk about justice a lot with Noonday. I work to help artisans and their families around the world gain freedom from the injustices they've oftentimes encountered. And now, injustice was in my home, in my life, and surrounding my precious daughter. And it hurt me more than words can describe.

*That was on a Wednesday in February when we learned about what was going on with our old agency. Then on that Friday, just two days later, I got a phone call. My grandmother was dying. I needed to come and say good-bye. And I did. To say that she was my very best friend simply isn't enough. I can't even write this one little paragraph about her without balling. I said good-bye that night and kissed her forehead and thanked her for loving me so fiercely. And early the next morning, she went to be with Jesus. I don't even know what to say about her death other than to say that as long as I'm breathing I will still be missing her.

*March and April came and went like a blur. The one really positive thing I can say about these two months is Jesus. Jesus was using this time to open a new door that would lead to my dream job and an awesome move. More to come on this soon, I promise.

*Then came May. We had changed adoption agencies. We had just sent another package to Emily. We were about to 'celebrate' eighteen months of staring at her beautiful face. And then I got another phone call. Emily had been reunited with her birth family. This is such a beautiful thing. I said it that day, and I still say it now. We prayed for almost two years for this beautiful girl to have a family, for there to be one less orphan in this world. And there is. And that is worth celebrating. However, that's only half of my heart. The other half....well....the other half is broken. Completely and totally and utterly broken. My daughter will never come home. She will never sleep in her bed. She will never leave cookies out for Santa with her sisters. I won't kiss her the day she starts school or goes on her first date or leaves for college. There will be no bedtime stories and snuggling on the coach and listening to her laugh. The dreams I had for her will never become reality. She will always be my daughter, and yet, she will never be my daughter. I can't even understand how I feel myself, much less attempt to fully explain how I feel to anyone else. But it's hard. And it hurts. And it's lonely. And it's been really, really, really confusing. I still don't understand what God was doing there. Why did He allow us to have such an amazing bond? Why was it so easy to see where she'd fit into our family? I'll probably never know the answers to these questions. And I don't have to. There are a lot of things I don't know, but God has made it really clear to me that whatever He is doing and has done and will do with our family and Emily wasn't about us. It was about her. I will never know how she's doing or where she is or what's going on in her life. But I do know that for a brief while this beautiful, bold, brave, crazy smart little girl was ours. And that is a gift I will never stop being thankful for.

*About two weeks after we lost our Emily, the girls and I left for camp. That's right-- I said camp. The plan was to spend seven weeks at camp where I worked in college. Libby would be a camper, I would be on staff, and Hollyn would be really cute in her camp uniform. It would be how we spent the summer without Emily....until there was no more Emily to wait for. Then it became our way to move on and start fresh. Oh, and did I mention we were moving? While we were at camp? Our life is lots of things, but it is very rarely boring. So, we packed up (for camp and to move. Just call me an over-achiever.), kissed Lee good-bye,  and left for seven weeks at camp. At least that was the plan. Unfortunately, after just three weeks, Libby developed a highly-contagious skin infection, so home we came....except we were currently in betweens. So we spent a few days quarantined in a hotel room before heading home to our NEW home....four weeks early.

Which bring me to now. Things are getting settled. We are finding our new normal. I'm working my way out of the drama and the cloud I've been living in for the past few months. And I'm finding my place in my dream job. There are things to be said. I just haven't been ready to say them until now. And some of them I'm still not quite ready to say. This blogging break was intentional, even though the chaos was not.  But here we go. Get ready blog world....because I'm back. 


  1. What a rollercoaster of crazy. I'm so sorry. That's so heartbreaking.

  2. Love and hugs! Can't wait for a visit!!! Sure have missed these blogs. 😊

  3. Wow. What a whirlwind. Many hugs and prayers for healing for you and your family.

  4. Good. I am glad to see you back! I don't comment often but I have been praying and waiting for you to return. I am sorry that that happened to you at your old adoption agency. I actually ran into a story of a young couple that that had happened to and it didn't even cross my mind your family could have been wrapped up in it. I am truly sorry. :(


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