Posted on

Learning to Trust

As I have talked about to pretty much anyone who has spent more than five minutes with me this summer, God is doing a major work in my life and that work is all about learning to trust Him!

 

First, I had to find out that I didn’t really trust Him…

then I had to find out why not…

then I had to seek His Word to reconcile how I felt with what I say I believe…

and now I get up every morning to face the situations that will drive those truths deeper and deeper into my inner being.

 

This is what is on my mind as I think about a situation I am having to face right now! I want to share this because I think it’s a good example of how truth can meet us in the middle of suffering.

Last year around this time, I had to have a medical procedure. I am not a wimp at all when it comes to pain, but this was a bad situation, and it took me awhile to get over it emotionally and physically. Yesterday, I went back to the surgeon and I have to have another similar surgery. It isn’t going to be in an emergency setting like last time, so I am grateful for that, but still, I’m really having a hard time accepting that I have to “go there” again. All of a sudden, I physically feel tired and like I want to cry all the time. It’s really affecting me!

 

But part of what I’ve been learning in this “trust process” is that a large amount of the pain we feel in suffering is our fear of it. This is the part that gets me pretty fired up. See, the enemy wants us to get caught up in being angry at God when we suffer, but the truth is that fear comes from Satan and it does not have to be a part of our suffering experience.  The part of suffering we can have power over, the part of suffering God is cheering us on to take power over, is here in our inner man. A spirit of fear does not have to accompany us in the trials of life; we can resist against his lies, and walk in freedom in the middle of the circumstance.

So that’s the part of suffering we can do battle against…but I believe there’s also a part of suffering we are encouraged to accept.

A large part of the pain we feel in suffering is our rejection of it.

Think of Job. Think of Jesus. Think of John. Think of Paul. They all understood that their suffering was allowed very purposefully and strategically by God, and while they were real and honest about the pain, they accepted it. They took the cup and drank it. They weren’t shocked by it, and they didn’t act like they were somehow too good for it. They wanted their suffering to achieve every high purpose God had in mind for it.

Amen?

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted on

A Little Look

I don’t really know where to begin. I am choosing to restrain myself from writing about everything all at once…in fact, I have a new goal in blogging that some of you will be really happy about! 500 word cut-off! Whoo!

That was 40 right there. Wow.

So, Jack and I went to Haiti this summer & spent two weeks getting to know the girls that will someday be our daughters. It was wonderful & weird, precious & difficult, all at the same time. Once that trip was completed, other pieces of the process could begin, so we were thrilled to finally be at that point.

We came home to a whirlwind of summer plans with our girls here (ages 7 & 10), and then they began school just a couple of weeks ago. I quickly dove into beginning and updating lifebooks for my girls, studying Haitian Creole, taking care of my inner life, and teaching music lessons while they are gone during the day.

One thing that has made all the difference in the world to me is my daily prayer time. I’ve been using the resources The Power of a Praying Parent and The Power of a Praying Wife to pray specifically for the people under my care. I genuinely feel like I am living out Philippians 4 that tells us the peace of Christ will guard our hearts and minds as we present our needs to Him, with thanksgiving. I’m thankful that every need I bring to the Lord He knew about, and my prayers are more about me reminding myself of His awareness, power, and love than anything else! It’s a truly remarkable difference. I am not afraid anymore. I’m not afraid of not praying enough or not remembering to say exactly the thing I’m asking for in exactly the right way. Oh, how small in my eyes that makes my God and how big in my eyes it makes me! The truth is my Father has got “my people” in the palm of His hand, and that absolutely includes my girls in Haiti and my girls in public school. He has so much restoration and solace for their souls, and my prayers are simply in agreement with & gratitude for His already-great plans for them.

We are currently waiting for our Authorization of Adoption, which usually takes 4-6 months, which means we should get ours between the end of October and the end of December. We’re praying that God will spur people in Haiti to make this process happen in a more reasonable time period. After that Authorization comes, there is another 6-8 months of the process.

Proverbs 21:30 tells us (and this is no isolated verse here!): “There is no wisdom, no insight, no plan that can succeed against the Lord.”

I don’t know what God wants to do in the seen realm about this adoption process, but I have no doubt in my mind (and am seeing with my own eyes) that He is the One in control & that He is providing for every need.

Take joy, little children, we have a good Father!!!!!

 

Posted on

It Happened

FullSizeRender

So, we are terribly behind in sharing the news because once IT happened, our life flew into a whirlwind! On May 29th, 2015, we got the phone call we had been waiting 18 months for. Our adoption agency had our referral letter for two little girls in Haiti! They are 3 and almost 5 years old. We are so excited to finally have pictures and names. I’m sorry to not share that part yet with the world, but we are letting more steps of the process occur before we “go public” about our newest family members.

After getting the referral, we were on a plane to Haiti in less than 3 weeks. We stayed in a nice guest house associated with the creche the little girls live in. Almost every day of our 15 day “socialization trip” we visited our children at the creche. The creche is a big house with many levels for different ages of kids and nannies in each room.

 


IMG_7355

 

IMG_7387

 

IMG_7129

IMG_7111

Our girls quickly (like within minutes) wanted to be held and called us “Mama and Papa Blan”. They were told we would someday be their parents, and in case you don’t see the connection to the French word for “white” (blanc), the word “blan” is “white” in Haitian Creole. So basically we were White Mama and White Papa. (Yes, you can laugh, it’s pretty funny.)

The girls do not speak any English at all. This was certainly challenging, but we brought a lot of toys to play with together. We also sang and prayed a lot, especially when emotions were running high and deep. We got to meet many of the little girls’ friends, playmates, and nannies. It really struck me how unique the community in the creche was. Kids were happy for each other when their friend’s “Mama Blan and Papa Blan” came. They understood it would happen for them someday, too. There was a sense of hope and excitement, not despair. It was a really simple existence but not lonely and not miserable and certainly not fearful or unhealthy. The children also understood that when Mama and Papa Blan went away, they would be coming back, because they had seen other friends go through the same process. This comforts us greatly, because being with these precious girls for two weeks and then leaving was excruciating. I wanted to get back to my daughters in the U.S. very much, but it was very strange and sad to leave.

We are told we have 10-14 months before we get to bring them home. They are not yet “ours” and there are many legal steps to take, each taking weeks to months. We would love to have you praying with us to receive our IBESR Authorization and Adoption Decree swiftly. We are praying for miracles, but I want to say I have a joy and peace that honestly shocks me. Soon I will blog about the monumental way God has removed worry and fear from my heart and life! I can pray with thanksgiving and confidence that our Father has my family in His perfectly capable, loving hands.

I can’t wait to see what He does.

Posted on

Sometime In This Lifetime

Hey, friends!

I don’t write often about our adoption for several reasons. One, it’s kind of like when the Bible says “Mary pondered all these things in her heart.” A mother’s heart is a deep well, and sometimes it’s just hard to talk about, hard to draw from. Two, there’s not much to tell in regard to an update as we simply wait for a referral. And three, we learned from our first adoption to not tell people much in the way of details because those details will change and rarely for the better, then you have to remember who you told and re-update them. Not fun.

Today, I’m writing just to inform people, especially those bless-ed people who are praying for us and the children we will someday adopt! We’re, for the first time in 18 months, in what I would call a discouraging place. On one hand, we have been told news that is wonderful, the kind of things expectant parents want to hear…all in all, children are coming home from Haiti on a regular basis, there’s not any “problems” in our particular case, and the country’s adoption process while slow is definitely growing in steadiness. On the other hand though, we’ve been told news that is saddening- my expectations on the timeline were misguided. I can’t go into detail but in all of the unknowns in adoption, there were a few pieces of info I was told had been very stable. Not anymore. I tried so hard to not have expectations. I tried so hard to keep a heart of surrender, knowing God’s timing is perfect.

It’s time to re-adjust my vision and the process I expected to go through to get to these kids. Like I have said in past blogs, I’m genuinely mostly sad for these children who will sit and wait so much longer, knowing they have parents waiting for them but not able to come for them. It’s tragic. I have to admit it makes me wonder if we should have gotten involved in this process, and then I think, “Really? So you really think it would have been better to just leave them there forever?” We’ve entered into their suffering, we chose to be a part. We chose to carry it with them. Sometimes it does feel like more than I should have taken on, but I do not hear the Lord saying to quit.

I guess I’m writing this blog today to say there are some really dark seasons in adopting.  God’s Word has been my ally all this time, and I’ll be turning to it even more so now!

He reminds me of Matthew 10 a lot. Verse 30 talks about His care for the sparrows and how we are worth much more than sparrows…

Verse 39 says if we try to live on the safe side in order to keep our life (keep our sanity! Our happiness! Our will and our way!) we’ll only lose it, but if we lose our life for His purposes, we find Life. Capital L life. Life in the unseen, a pipeline to joy and hope that lifts our eyes above this world.

And then Jesus shares in Verse 42 that anyone who would give even a cup of cold water to these little ones would “certainly not lose His reward.” We’re not doing this for rewards but I am grateful for the reminder that Jesus is for this. Undoubtedly.

 

Posted on

What We Do When Our Naysayers Are Proved Right

I don’t know. Do you? I’m really tempted to just keep crying and find someone else much wiser and much more mature who can tell me. What do we do when our naysayers are proved right? What do we do when we finally “get” what they meant, when we finally see the pain they foretold?

We see ourselves as dreamers. Hopers. Big-time believers. We feel called. We don’t want to waste our lives just doing what’s easy, what’s normal. Nope, we have to pick the tallest mountain to climb. And not to gain attention, but because deep inside we have a sense that fully living means forgetting the status quo and living from our hearts. We have a sense that fully living means taking the words of Jesus as literally as we can figure out how to.

But yes, there’s a piece of this kind of person that is easily fooled, too. The naysayers see with complete clarity what we cannot. The passion and zeal and ideas and hope are so strong that no matter how many times we nod our heads in the beginning, saying, “Yes, of course I know this may fail and I’m okay with that, but I just have to try”, we really don’t know that. We really don’t accept the possibility. And if we genuinely do realize the possibility of failure, we aren’t in touch with just how painful and devastating it could be. The naysayers are feeling that for us. In advance. Thanks so much!

So when they’re proved right, that can only mean one thing: it happened. The worst, or close to it, happened. We find out we don’t have what it takes. We find out the path is steeper than we imagined. Maybe we will quit…maybe we can’t, because we’re in too deep. Maybe there will be miracles…maybe there will be regret. Maybe we’ll get over it, maybe we truly never will.

What do we do? Well, like I said, I don’t really know. But here’s a start…

*We grieve.

We grieve the dream or at least the version of the dream we had in mind, the process we expected. In grieving will come acceptance. Eventually. Acceptance of what is rather than what we hoped would be. Grief isn’t quick or easy. His disciples never need to grieve without hope, though. Hope that we’ll get what we’re aiming for? No, sadly. It may be time to die to that. We do have hope that He is good though, hope that He is with us, and hope that He hasn’t forgotten our story…no risk in this. It’s true, even if it doesn’t feel true.

*We take courage.

We get up every day and say, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13) We put one foot in front of the other, and focus on what is in our lap, given by God, for that day, for that moment. Do we pout and rage? No. We dig deep and find that bravery that seemed to force us to take the risk in the first place, and we use that courage to do the work at hand whether it is the work we planned to do or not. We are still the same people! Our fire inside must be used for something else instead.

*We learn.

We are willing to be honest with ourselves and others about it, no matter how many excuses we want to make or how stupid we feel. We’re willing to learn specific things from mistakes. We’re not embittered by the naysayers. We learn to see the value in their gifts, in a spirit of humility.

*We live.

Maybe our head is hanging low and our heart is broken and the tears won’t stop flowing…but we recognize that’s fully living, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted on

February Adoption Update

I wanted to take a few minutes and blog about what is going on in our adoption!

First of all, it’s been almost a year since our dossier was accepted by the Haitian government. We hope that in the next six months we’ll receive our referral, which means pictures and info about the children we will be adopting. We have been matched but until we get a referral, it’s not official or sure, and so it is illegal for them to tell us much at all. We love our adoption agency (All Blessings International, in Owensboro, KY) and Haiti coordinator, who travels regularly to Haiti. It means a lot to us that she herself was a big part of making this match, after getting to know these children personally. We are so excited about the day that she will call us and tell us we can come visit!

When we go visit, it will be all four Taylors making the trip, for 15 days. Then we’ll come home for about 6 months and wait…We can make small trips to visit the children, but ultimately we won’t be able to bring them home until they say we can. So, we are easily looking at another year of our adoption journey if not more.

While I wish it would happen today, I have such peace in God’s timing. These kids could be up to 6 years old and God knows what needs to happen in their hearts and lives while they wait. It will be a big transition for them, unlike the transition for a young infant. God knows the time they need. Our family is going through changes and challenges as well, and God knows what we need to learn to prepare for the new arrivals. God’s writing this story. I don’t even WANT to jump in and change it. He has these Haitian children in the palm of His hand, just as much as He has Selah and Yemi in the palm of His hand.

And in my prayer time today I had this thought: “If God can orchestrate the incredible generosity that has been poured out on us from members of His body, He definitely has His eye on those precious children and will orchestrate every step of this process for them.” He has been faithful in our finances, how much more so will He be faithful in these lives being rescued?

So that does bring me to money, and I have awesome news.

We started out this adoption of two siblings knowing we would need $50,000 approximately. To those who have given financially, I will be sending out (when our adoption is drawing to a close) information about how that money was spent/used AND where that money came from (certain fundraisers, our savings, our extra jobs we took on, giving-not who gave of course but the sum of all donations, plus grants, etc.) But just for this blog, I will tell you this amazing news:

We are now down to just needing $10,450!

It’s mind blowing. And I know for sure that people’s generosity, God’s generosity, grant foundations’ generosity, was not about or for Jack and Lyndsay Taylor. It wasn’t even for the two children who will someday be in our family! This generosity was poured out unto Jesus. Every penny, our’s or your’s or whoever’s, has been because our hearts are aligned with the heart of the Father, we’re joining Him in His love for justice and compassion. His heart for the fatherless has been deposited in us, and we are honored and thankful for the opportunity to bless Jesus as we bless the least of these. It’s a joy. And we don’t take it lightly that we get to be a part of that.

We do not take it lightly that SO MANY have chosen to be a part of this with us!

Thank you!

Posted on

Who Is Really Doing the Waiting?

We adopted Yemisrach, who is now six years old, in 2009. By 2011, I was asking my husband when we could start the process again. Much like labor, the pain and agony of the scary and expensive process was completely erased, and I was ready to do it again. In 2013, God put Jack in the place where he was ready to jump in, too, and within hours of him telling me (the third most exciting news ever) –that we could add to our family again– I had our application (already filled out, I sheepishly admit) in the mailbox.

That was one year ago. Our dossier was officially received on February 27, 2014, and the wait began for a referral. We have no real time frame to go by and since we are adopting from Haiti, a country whose adoption laws have went through major changes this year (all for the good), there aren’t any real guidelines to go by or other families to stalk and compare with in hopes our journey will be better or worse! In fact, I have purposely stayed out of the loop regarding other families, because every case is different and there’s just. no. telling.

But there are two things on my mind today regarding our adoption, two things I’d like to share.

One, God has been so awesome to keep me in peace and free from anxiety. He gave me this verse, from Exodus 33: “My Presence will go with you and I will give you rest.” He said this to Moses, when Moses was freaking out about something and had said, “Lord, if you are not going to go with us, then please don’t send us!” And the Lord came in a cloud that hovered over the Tent of Meeting, and that was around the time Moses face started to glow after spending time in the Presence, too. I think the Lord answered that prayer exponentially for Moses, don’t you? That was exactly my prayer in starting this adoption. And He has really done it. My attitude has been, “Thank You, Lord, that someday I get to bring more kids into our home. I’m just happy to be in the process, do it Your way.” That has been a gift, and pretty different than how I felt in our journey to Yemi…I was a basket case!

But that brings me to the second thing. For one of the very first times, now that it’s been a year, and also as there have just been so few referrals coming out of Haiti this entire year, I was feeling discouraged. I was starting to feel frustrated that our kids (even though we don’t know who they are, probably our agency does) were getting older sitting in an orphanage. I started to think about paperwork and if they were going to ask us to change the ages of preference so that those children would still fit our criteria. I started to think about how those children must feel, wondering if there is anyone who wants them or at least anyone who is physically able to take care of them, wondering if a soft bed, enough dinner, a pet, a Christmas gift, a good school, or most of all parents were going to be part of their future. I wonder, Do they have hope? Do they know what I know- that they are daily prayed for, and sought after, and that many adults are working on their behalf to get them from where they are to where they can’t even dream of yet? Do they know I have empty picture frames waiting for their sweet faces, and that my heart has an empty spot, too, that will only be filled by them in God’s redeeming plan?

In this time of prayer and thoughts, I sort of said to myself, in an effort to ease some of the hurt, “Well, this gives me more time to fundraise, and get well, and get this or that figured out, and have more time with the kids we have.” All true. Totally fine. But my heart had made a major shift. I don’t like having to wait, sure, but I’m not sad and slightly angry and praying hard for ME, a mom waiting for her children. I’m sad and slightly angry and praying hard from the perspective of these children. Not a mom waiting for children…but children waiting for a mom. There’s a big difference. I can pretty easily calm the hurt as a mom waiting for her children, because I have a wonderful, purposeful, and hope filled life right here and now. But can I calm the hurt that I am choosing to share with those kids who are waiting for parents and safety and home and enough? I really cannot.

Adoption exercises the faith muscle in a major way, just like any time you see a child in need when you can’t do anything more than what you are already doing for them. We decide in that moment that we have no choice but to completely entrust them to the Lord and place them in His hands. When we let go of something that precious, that priceless, as innocent children, into the care of the Father (who gave us this love and fierce determination to rescue in the first place), that is faith– that is the bloody, tender flesh of faith. And it hurts. And it should. And it’s okay to hurt. It’s more than okay.

He sits with the lowly, is near to the brokenhearted. Of that, we can be sure…and so His presence, that I so cherish, must be with them as well. He will always be their home and their hope, not me. He is their answer, not me. So He is showing me that my most urgent prayer for my kids, or the kids stuck in the Congo, or even kids stuck in an abusive home or bad situation, shouldn’t be a cry of “get them to their forever family, Lord” but a cry of “Lord, bring them to You.”

He is at work in the waiting.