the prince of egypt

my son loves this movie. The story of Moses. Some adoptive parents laud this as the first adoption story. Which I laugh at and then it makes me sad because this adoption did not turn out well for his adoptive family.

This children’s movie makes me cry. It makes me feel closer to God, I feel in awe of Him. That He can take someones life and make it great through hardship and hurt. That the hardship and hurt are part of His plan to make someone strong, to make a great leader. I hope that that is what He is doing with me, but I fear it is not. Often I fear that my hardship is because of the poor decisions I have made. I know that even then He can take those and make you into a great person, if you are faithful to Him. But I’ll admit it, I am not faithful, not in the way I know He would like me to be. I used to be, but since I have become a mother and no longer work full time as a minister it has become more than difficult to find time for the prayer and reading that I would like to do. I used to get PAID to be a faithful servant of Him. My job was to pray for those in the church, the teens that considered me as their pastor, now I have no one counting on me like that. I have deflected all spiritual responsibilities to my husband since he is the head of this family. I am ashamed of that. Ashamed that I don’t pray for all four of my children every day. Ashamed that something that I used to be so devout about is now something that I push out of my mind on a consistent basis. It is not something that I don’t want to do. I make plans, lots of plans, about how I am going to be more faithful. I repent, I pray, I cry out to Him. But still I can’t make it stick.

I know deep down that part of the problem is anger that I can’t let go of. In my situation I know that it was God’s will that I abandoned my children in someone else’s arms. How could he make me go through that? I want to know NOW what the purpose of it was. Was it for them? Was it for me? I think if it was for the adoptive parents I might just never forgive Him, but I know Him, that is not how her works.

What great plan was He weaving together? Will I be like Jeremiah in the end? Where God used his life and he never saw any fruits of his suffering? Or maybe I will be like Hosea. God made him suffer so that Hosea could be and example to Israel. My only thought that sometimes makes the hurt worth it is that because I gave up my twins that they will have incredible lives that they might not have had with their biological and I. Maybe they were saved from some horror that I don’t yet know. Or maybe that is the residual kool-aid that still sloshes around in my brain.

I know is that Moses’ adoption didn’t turn out so well if you are an adoptive parent. He abandoned his family for his biological family. He fought bitterly with his brother. He brought the news that killed his nephew. Yet from a biological stand point it turned out well, he became a leader for his people. He “reunited” with his brother and sister. In fact he might have never had to reunite because his mother was his nurse, and his brother and sister were probably playmates. Not the typical adoption it modern day.

This movie, it makes me think. And well with the mommy mush that has sunken into my brain I’m not sure if thinking is a good thing.

i don't know

i often wonder what Jesus thinks of my situation. I wonder if this horrible situation is part of God’s plan to teach me, and possibly my boys something. Maybe I would not be a good influence on my childrens’ lives and that is why things are happening like they are. Would I not be stable enough for them? If I were in their lives, would I somehow do some damage to their psyche? Have I been disobedient in the past and that is why I have been disciplined with this horrible situation I am in? Or maybe this is purely the consequences of my sinful actions of having sex outside of marriage and this is part of the equation that God saw when I sinned.

Or is it something else? Are my boys’ adoptive parents disobeying God? And if they are what are the consequences of their actions going to be? Who is going to hurt most from their failure to obey Him?

Maybe things are as they should be, maybe they aren’t, but it all comes down to the fact that I don’t know.

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I think the worst part about my relationship with the adoptive parents is not knowing what my role is in their family and what they want or expect me do to fulfill that role. I have only some small guide lines. My only guidelines were set up 12 years ago – Our only form of communication is to be through letters, and when I write I send the letter through the agency. I don’t know what I am allowed to send or what I am allowed to say or if I am allowed to write to the boys or should I write to the boys and more importantly how often I am allowed to write? All are questions I frequently ask myself. Can I tell the boys I miss them, love them, think about them? If I write once a year is that enough or would you like letters more often than that? Do they still want to abide by the no gift rule that we set up 12 years ago, or is a book okay?

I just don’t know.

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I really hate not knowing so much. I feel like half my life I am wandering around in the dark groping for anything to hang on to. Maybe that is why I hang on so tight to my children. Because they are real and tangible and I have control in some form in my relationship with them. Not the bad kind of control – just the idea that I don’t have to pretend to be something I am not with them and I can define my role as mommy the way I want to.

I’m stalling writing that dang letter even now writing this, because I feel so uncertain of what I should write to 12 year old boys I don’t really know and their parents. I don’t think anyone can blame me either.

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Most roles in life are defined. Mother, daughter, minister, wife, employee, etc. these are all roles that you can do something with. I find that at least in my life some of the greatest stresses came when one of my roles was unsure. When I wasn’t sure if I wanted to date my husband or not and didn’t know how I felt about him. When I almost gave up becoming a pastor in college. When I wanted the role of mother so badly but could not achieve it and living with the stress of my husband also wanting the role of father. My family had a very difficult time with me transitioning into an adult we fought constantly because they still saw me as a child. Giving up my license as a minister to become a full time mother was exceptionally difficult for me.

For me, knowing and being able to function inside my roles helps me define who I am. Yes, sometimes I like to go outside that role and be someone I am not for a while. For example a couple Sundays ago I got to spend the whole day with my sister. I did not play the role of mommy for hours. I tried on diva-like clothes at a mall and ate Indian food at a restaurant I had not been to before. I was selfish and adventurous in a small way – something that my mommy role would not have let me do. It was fun to go outside my mommy role for a few hours.

But not knowing what my role should be as my twins’ birth mother is very stressful for me. Not knowing what is best for them, what I should be doing, what I am allowed to do, what God would really want in all this . . . well it’s impossible to tell you the stress that having this undefined role causes me.

I hate not knowing. I hate saying ‘I don’t know’ all the time. It is so frustrating that I have been at this for years, and might be at it for many more.

broken

Jeremiah 18:4 - But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.

I am in the process of being broken. The Lord has seen my heart and knows that I need Him in a different way than I have been receiving Him. So I am being broken. Being broken sucks. I am tired and on the verge of tears at any second. One bad thing seems to pile on top of another until I succumb and am a mess of tears and snot. Yesterday was one of those days. Sunday was one of those days. And I know that I am not done. I know that I could learn this lesson more quickly if I just submitted to the Lord right now and lay prostrate before him in complete submission. But I am afraid of what I am going to hear. I am afraid of being completely broken to the point of helplessness. I hate the feeling that I am no longer in control of my life. Because when I do I know that God will push me out of where I am comfortable, out into the place that is scary. He has already started and I am not happy about it. Because of a moment of obedience I am now involved in something that scares the living daylights out of me. What else does He have planned? What else is required for this process to be completed?

2 Corinthians 4:7-9 - But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.

When He called me into the ministry I willingly accepted that my life would never be my own - my own to choose what I wanted to do with it. That He would use me however He saw fit for His glory. But even though I submitted to His will over 14 years ago and accepted that my life was completely His, it doesn't make it any easier today. And because I have been through a breaking process many times before, and know what is at the end of it, I am scared and resistant to it. How broken am I going to be this time? How much am I going to have to give up? I know that I am going to have to rely on His strength to do things beyond me because He is going to ask me to.

"I can't do anything without you, you give me strength to do anything. I can't be everything I try to, you save me from the everything I couldn't be." - Plumb

I've been feeling like a failure lately. In my mothering, in my relationships, in my ministry, in pretty much everything I touch. And I am failed by those closest to me. When I turn to those around me I find that the comfort I normally find in them is gone and sometimes completely backfires and leaves me feeling much worse. Emotionally I am drained.

He is calling. He is more telling me I need to turn to him. My world will continue to crumble until I submit.

Psalm 34:18 - The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

I know that He is doing this because He loves me. I know that He wants to use me. I know He is there all around me even if I can't feel Him or even hear Him. Faith is scary. Faith is Him is not easy. Life is harder when you submit to His will. I'm so tired of fighting, but not yet ready to stop.

me, and only me

she just doesn't cry, she wails. She wants me. Only me. Annoyed that she is interrupting my hour of peace before I go to bed I put down the laptop and walk down the hall to get her. I look down at her tiny little frame in her crib, she is sitting up looking around for me, only me. And I am no longer annoyed at this small girl. I gently pick her up. I walk the four feet to my king sized bed and snuggle with her underneath the warm down duvet to protect us from the chill that always seems to linger in our room at night. I offer her my breast, but she doesn't want it. She snuggles into me calming down and her sobs turn into whimpers. She squirms a little as if she is too upset to calm herself down even though I responded to her within a minute of her initial cries. As her tiny frame finally conforms to my body, my arms wrap themselves around her to protect her from whatever woke her from her sweet slumber. Her breathing becomes peaceful as my body provides enough warmth to make a cozy spot for her to finally relax in complete surrender. It was me she wanted, not my milk, just me. And in this moment my heart is full. I am a mommy, a real mommy. And this little girl that has melted into me, who needed me and only me proves it. Her complete trust, her feeling safe only in my arms proves it. It is the most wonderful feeling in the entire world to be loved, to be needed, to be wanted like that. Nothing can compare.

There are small moments I feel complete. I feel normal. There are moments that I feel that it is okay to have the love of those two tiny children that call me mommy. That I am worth their love and affection, well maybe not worth, or even worthy, but it is okay that the world has allowed me to be a mother.

In those small moments I try desperately to push anything but my two children that are under our roof out of my mind. No hurt of - I missed this, or I didn't get to do this with them. But sometimes I can't help it, Sometimes my joy is ruined by my loss. And I am angry. Angry at myself, for letting a wonderful moment be ruined by my inability to cope with my past, with my loss. And I tell myself next time I am going to enjoy my children and not let this all consuming sadness that lingers in my heart also consume their childhood. I'm getting better, but as I get better I find myself building a wall against the past, against the pain that I can't seem to face. I build it against those two precious innocent boys that I haven’t seen in 9 years. I find solace in making them into something not so real, because they are so intangible to me that they are almost a dream.

The thought that entered my mind last night that ruined that wonderful moment? "I know that she isn't the kind of mom that would take my boys back to bed with her and snuggle until their sweet tiny bodies surrendered once again to sleep." And it kills me. My children, are they okay without that? The children under my roof need it - they need to be loved like that, need that affection. It hurts so much that my twins might have missed something only I could give them in order to gain something else that I thought was more important than me. Why couldn't God have worked it out so that I could have picked them up in the middle of the night and given them what they needed? Me and only me. Why couldn't I have been the One? Why couldn't I have been their mommy, their everything?
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I hope when my sweet little Princess wakes up tonight it is all about her. I just want to be her mommy and Bear's mommy too. Not a mommy that aches with longing arms for something that can never be. Because to the Bear and the Princess I am mommy, me and only me - that is real, that is now and I will continue to endeavor to cherish those moments for the rest of my life without the sadness that seems to haunt them.