In May, 2005, we answered God’s commission in John 21:17 to, “Feed my sheep,” adopting three biological siblings from Russia and bringing them to Colorado to join our 10-year old son, Blake. Getting approved for adoption was a long, arduous road consisting of interviews, home visits, and mounds of paperwork. Looking back, that was the easy part.
Raising kids is a refining fire leading me to complete humility that I may fully experience glory. I knew shortly after bringing the kids home from Russia that God planned to mold and shape me first. Ugh. He’s not done.
The past eight calendar years’ worth of memories include family vacations, loss of parents, driver’s license, broken ankle, lost teeth, laughter, heartache, and heartbreak. Mothering abandoned children is rewarding and painfully exhausting.
In January 2011, we felt prompted to home school the younger two kids while our oldest son celebrated his last semester as a junior in high school. Weeks after our home school decision, our two youngest kids bravely disclosed allegations against their biological brother that landed him in juvenile detention and later a treatment center. Not exactly what I had planned that year. I’m not sure why God allows things to happen in their particular order but I know that everything is filtered through His hands. My 2011 calendar was full of court mandated weekly therapy with our then 14 year old son, as well as monthly treatment meetings and quarterly court appearances. Due to many factors, he now resides in a group home and I’m learning that the lesson is in the letting go. I’m not sure what lies ahead in the coming weeks, months, years, but I trust that God hasn’t brought us this far to leave us now. His works are evident in preparing our family for the work set before us.
Our life is crazy. I’m an energetic home-body, a student of the Bible, a lover of functional interior design, a coffee fanatic, a procrastinating list maker, and a closet geek. The writer in me is crawling out onto the pages of this blog and, in God’s timing, a book. I promise to keep it light, keep it real but no longer keep it to myself.