God gave us you

Well, it was a year ago last day-after-Thanksgiving when we first saw a glimpse of our sweet son, Isaiah. I thought it was appropriate to make an exception to my season of not blogging to remember (with you) that day, and the year that has followed.

Though because of its origins Thanksgiving is a little yucky to me (sorry to be a hater, but the pilgrims weren't exactly gentle, gracious, peace loving people), I am still thankful for the holiday, one that perhaps uniquely hasn't been totally commercialized. Besides the traditional meal--who knew people eat turkey AND ham?--Macy's Day parade and football, there aren't that many distractions from what modern Thanksgiving is supposed to be about: family and being thankful.

How fitting that on a holiday intended to teach us to be thankful, when we are all usually surrounded by our extended families, we received news of the greatest earthly gift imaginable: a child. A son. Our "Dieudonne Rukundo", literally "Gift of God" or "Given by God" and "Love".

Psalm 68:6 God puts the lonely into families.

That morning, after many sleepless, tear-filled nights, we found out about our son. And we found out that our son, who went far too long without a family, now had an enormous one. One with parents who glow at the mention of his name, one with a sister who is his best friend and biggest fan, one with cousins he now delights in, aunts and uncles who love him dearly, and grandparents who spoil him in every way. And of course our other extended family--our amazing friends--who have celebrated him, rejoiced with us about him, supported us in the hard days, and delighted in and treasured his presence.

The day we saw your face, William Isaiah Rukundo Thompson, we knew from deep within our souls, that you were our son. Your daddy wept tears of joy. Your mommy jumped onto the chair, shaking with eager anticipation, as we waited to open the emailed picture. In those precious moments, it felt as if every part of us--our mind, body and spirit--burst into jubilant psalm.

I can't articulate the immense joy we experienced the moment we knew your name and saw your beautiful face, and yet our joy has only increased at least tenfold since having you home.

You are our beautiful, sought after, ached and longed for son. We can't imagine our family without your presence. This thanksgiving we give thanks that you are at the table with us. That God gave us you.

The picture we received:

click here and here to see some fun pictures and videos. Happy Thanksgiving!

and one last note: to clarify my last post about Isaiah/us, I would actually say that what feels like regression is actually some kind of progress. in many adoptions, kids hide/pretend for the first many months. being perfectly behaved, always copying siblings' behavior, etc. The ways Isaiah is acting right now actually (I think) shows that he's starting to come out of his shell. he's testing us, wondering how unconditional our love is. he is such a sweet kiddo. please pray we'll be patient and loving and show him he's safe and loved in our home.

signing off...at least for while

hello friends.
well, things in the house = chaos land. for a number of reasons I'm going to sign off for a while. maybe permanently. here are ways you can pray for us (and you can always email me!!):

• best way we can describe it is Isaiah is regressing. we're not sounding an alarm or anything (regression is TOTALLY normal and to be expected), but we're getting some help to make sure we're doing the right things. we're mostly going back to what our lifestyle and parenting approaches were when Isaiah first came home (keeping a slower pace, lots of time in the house, attachment/play therapy strategies, bottles, ergo carrier, etc.) his stomach stuff is still there as well so we're going to be trying to spend more time figuring that out. please pray for our little man to keep moving towards trusting us and believing that we're going to stay. pray that when he pushes us away, when he tries to make us mad at him, that we will show him how much we love him. pray that he'll continue to understand that we're going to love him no matter what. and pray for us to be able to follow through with the things we need to do to make this season of life feel safer to Isaiah. it was easier to do this when he was first home (and easier for other people to understand that we were doing it). he doesn't always show his struggle symptoms with other people around and I need to just deal with people not understanding or believing that I can tell that things aren't going well right now. now that we're back to a mostly normal (pretty fast and pretty relational) pace, it is harder to back out again. but we need to. pray we'll know how to prioritize. how to stay healthy ourselves. pray that we'll just do the things we need to do. and not add a ton on and not waste a ton of time on unhealthy distractions.
• coinciding with all of this, I need to not write publicly for a while (which is good because like I already said, I need to spend less time doing it and more time loving my kids and husband and more time making our house not feel like a tornado hit it everyday). Also, I'm starting to depend on writing and on people's opinion of me too much (lives out like an addiction actually). The things I'm most passionate about thinking, writing, talking about (faith, the world/those who are poor, adoption) are difficult to share about in writing. and I'm not very good at talking about them in a grace saturated way. That's not the best representation of Jesus in such a public space, especially when I don't know the actual audience. I also want to be a big deal. I want people to think well of me, of my approach to life. I want them to value our thinking. I know a lot of people struggle with this, but I'm struggling with it in a way that's destructive/too much right now. I need to learn some lessons in quietness, humility, and what feels like obscurity (in other words, being a stay at home mom). pray I'll use the freed up time well. that I'll learn how to be obedient and discerning about whether it is ever healthy or helpful to share in this kind of manner (this is personal. I'll continue to be grateful to read other people's blogs and stories because I love learning in that way...for me right now, though, it seems like it isn't a healthy exercise.) So at least a "fast" from blogging is necessary. perhaps permanently or perhaps only for a while so that it loses the power it has over me right now (power I've given it) and I can handle it with moderation.

I'm so thankful I've been able to depend on this community, even if most of you are anonymous!, through the past many months. I've learned a lot about myself through this. I may post something funny or a prayer request for the kids occasionally, but otherwise I'll be laying low for a while. xoxo

what we shared

several folks have asked how yesterday morning went/what we shared, so I thought I'd give you a little taste of it. Hunter was the one who talked about our family, so he might give us the full sha-bang at some point.

summary moment (not a part of the service): Hunter said to my sister KayLeigh (because she usually goes to church somewhere else): "I'm so glad you are at church with us this morning!" KK back to him: "I'm so glad Isaiah's at church with us this morning."

So, I was the call to worship person and mostly told others that for that morning we were being invited to have our gap (between how life is and how life should be) expanded, because we were going to hear about beautiful children's stories from around the world who are living in varied situations of suffering. the good news, of course, is that as the gap grows, if we hear the truth of the gospel in the midst of that, if we search the bible to see what God has to say about it, our understanding of how big the gospel is. the beauty of it, the hugeness of it will grow as well. I used the aslan/lucy quote about aslan seeming bigger to her. (and of course when we understand what God has done for us, then we want to be participants in making the gap (between how life is supposed to be and how it is)- smaller.

later in the morning, Hunter shared about our family and shared a little snippet about how the gospel has grown in each of our hearts because of adoption (how we've been shaped in positive ways by it).

lucy prays regularly for kids w/out families and tells Isaiah (when he's sad): "it's okay brother, you're in your family now. she's more compassionate and aware of the world. Hunter has gone from only (mostly) caring about the big picture systemic change (in an emotionally removed kind of way) into a much more emotional, father-like response. I've been given a window more into God's heart for those who are suffering (and of course into my self-righteousness, though he didn't share that). and Isaiah is much better able to believe (we hope) that God is loving and good because he is starting to receive the essentials that, without which, makes it really difficult to believe or understand God's love.

then he shared about how Isaiah's tummy problems are still causing us some significant trouble, but we can get an army of folks at the hospital. all the experts we need to address it. whereas there are lots of kids at home of hope and around the country and around the world who don't have parents to advocate on their behalf. and so we need to remember them. pray for them. advocate for them. provide for them.

other folks shared as well, which was BEAUTIFUL about downs syndrome adoption. it was a beautiful morning. here's a quote from the end of our pastor's sermon (which was really great as as a whole!):

"on the cross, when the Father turned his face from his son. when, as the Jesus storybook bible records, Jesus cried out "Papa! Papa, where are you! Papa don't leave me!" the Son of God, our suffering savior, experienced the rejection, despair, confusion, disorientation and sadness that orphans all over the world experience. he experienced it on a cosmic level so that ONE DAY, like it is recorded in rev 21, there will be no more sadness. no more poverty, no more war, no more sickness or any other reason that causes children to be orphaned. HE experienced it, HE tasted suffering and in his resurrection he declared victory over it. one day it will be no more.

and, as if that's not enough, though children who are orphans in this world did nothing to deserve their estranged status, the Bible tells us that we, who deserve to be separated from God, who deserved to have him turn his back on us because of sin, we are told in the Bible that Jesus was rejected by God so that we could be adopted by him. he paid all the expenses of our adoption. and we are now brothers and co-heirs with Christ. no other God is like that, who will end suffering, who will end the orphan crisis, because he tasted it, becoming like one himself. who would give up his rightful position as son and equal with God so that we, who continually turn our backs on him, could be adopted into God's family. but that's the very God we serve."

he also shared this great John Stott quote on suffering:
“I could never believe in God, if it were not for the cross… In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples in different Asian countries and stood respectfully before the statue of Buddha, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn-pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in God-forsaken darkness. That is the God for me! He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us. Our sufferings become more manageable in light of his. There is still a question mark against human suffering, but over it we boldly stamp another mark, the cross which symbolizes divine suffering.”- John Stott - The Cross of Christ

We sang "a mighty fortress is our God", "Victory in Jesus", I am bound for the Promised Land" and other songs that remind us that one day the battle (in this case, suffering) will be over. God has won.

I loved it :)

you had me at Open Letters

Dear wifey:
thanks so much for coming this weekend. you are the best E-harmony-like friend I've ever had. and since you are my blog dawg (I have no idea why I just made up that terrible term that doesn't sound like anything either of us would say) I dedicate this post to you.

You make me laugh harder than most people in the world, in writing and in person. and I could say the same thing about how much you make me think. Thanks for using your creativity, your brilliant, sassy and super-quick wit, and your depth of character and faith in your writing (and for forbearing with me and the uber-serious tone in mine). you are a gift.

short and sweet:

• you blew me away with ideas and moments like this
• you almost lost me because of ridiculously cute things like this or this (and, well, anything crafty)
• I thought you stole my brain at points like this
• I almost peed my pants in times like this

and yet, you are even more intriguing, funny, beautiful, creative, joyful and simply lovely in person. but, like my best friend here says (and it is such a gift for me to know and learn to believe): I don't love you because of any of those things. I just love you. so, if your posts ever start showing the (figurative) mid-forties sag, I'll love you anyway.

You had me at Open Letters,
Adrianne

"Aslan, you're bigger."

Did you know that Lucy, our daughter's name, is a family name? Yep, 5th one in 10 generations (or something like that). The name actually came as a "gentle suggestion" from a family member on Hunter's side. But in actuality, its family significance was only a really small part of the reason that we named her Lucy.

[Note to reader: please don't tell this to my in-laws, especially Hunter's maternal grandmother, because I hope I scored some major points with the "family name choice." While we're at it, actually, don't tell them that the real reason I chose an Episcopal pre-school was not because of its academic or spiritual superiority or my desire to have her at an Episcopal school at all, but because of proximity to our house and the carpool rules (I don't have to get out of our car). Deep thanks go out to my girl, Susie, for giving me those extremely valuable criteria for selection. I'm serious.]

The two biggest reasons we named her Lucy were:

1. Lucy means "bringer of light." what a prayer we have for her little life. that she'd bring light, hope and joy everywhere she goes.

2. In CS Lewis' wonderful series, the Chronicles of Narnia, one of the four main characters is named Lucy. In one of the books, Lucy is able to physically see Aslan (Jesus) when other people can't, particularly when they are all lost and unsure of what direction to go. Again, another prayer we have for her life: that in the midst of darkness and confusion, whether other people see Him or not, Lucy would see "Aslan" and gently point others in his direction (and that she would follow him).

As we've thought about what to share about our family's adoption story this upcoming Sunday at church, a friend reminded me of this beautiful quote from Prince Caspian (one of the books in the Chronicles of Narnia series).

In Lucy’s first encounter with Aslan in this story, she says,“Aslan, Aslan. Dear Aslan. At last.”…She gazed up into the large wise face. “Welcome child,” he said.“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you’re bigger.” “That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.“Not because you are?”“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”

When I became a Christian (though I grew up in the church, I'd say this really happened for me in college), the thing that was most important to me was the fact that I got cut from the women's basketball team at Wake Forest. Totally legitimately, God opened my eyes to him through the humility, sadness, and brokenness that came from this deep disappointment. I learned that God was big enough to handle our disappointments, insecurities, identity crisis, etc. That's how big I needed him to be, and that's about as big as I saw him.

Since then, though, I've grown in my love for God, which has led me to situations where I've had my eyes opened to a lot of suffering in the world. I've traveled to many places in the world that people consider "developing" or "third world" countries. I lived in Zimbabwe with beautiful girls who were orphaned, mostly because of a combination of AIDS and poverty. I went on humbling and inspiring work trips to learn about how God is at work in Uganda, Rwanda, Zimbabwe, Kenya, Guatemala, Ecuador, Brazil and India.

And through adopting Isaiah from Rwanda, God has continued to open my eyes to the way many people in the world live.

The suffering many people face is completely overwhelming and should ruin our appetites.

And my understanding of a God from college who can meet you in fairly minor disappointments and insecurities-- comparatively speaking-- wasn't strong enough to handle the things I had seen. the systemic brokenness, the sheer numbers of children who are orphaned or who only eat once a day. the personal stories of heartache. each one enough to make you sob yourself to sleep and wonder about a loving God.

Simultaneously, in the past 18 months of our adoption story with Isaiah, I've also learned a lot more about myself. More about the ways I live that fall very short of what is acceptable. my pride. my self love and self absorbtion. my self righteousness. my judgmental attitude. my laziness. and so on. I realized personally I needed a God who was much bigger, much more gracious to cover my sin and make me acceptable to God.

I needed him to be bigger for the suffering of the world. and I needed him to be bigger for me. or else I had no hope and no assurance.

And God has shown himself so much bigger. So much more faithful.

But, like Aslan said, He didn't grow; it was my understanding of him that did.

I've searched the Bible for hope, I've pleaded and cried out in anger in prayer at what felt like an absent God in the face of suffering, I've invited the Holy Spirit to search my heart and show me what is offensive.

and I've seen.

he's answered prayers. He's shown me his promises in the Bible. promises to wipe away every tear. promises to restore everything that's broken. he's shown me a Jesus, our savior, who wept over death. He's shown me a God who hears the cries of the afflicted. who promises justice for the oppressed. he's shown me mercy for me, a sinner in need of grace. and he's shown me hope and promise for a world that suffers.

and now when I worship God I sometimes feel like I'm going to burst because the news is so much better than it has ever been. it has always been this good, I just didn't know it.

I'm so excited to hear the Gospel preached this weekend, particularly in light of the brokenness and suffering in the world. I want us all to grow in our understanding of the enormity and beauty of the Gospel. and when we talk about facing big issues like "the orphan crisis", we have to talk about a really big God.

I'm so thankful for Isaiah being in our family for countless reasons. one of them is that his story is a means of grace for me. I'm learning that God is the one who is going to save the world and who has saved me.

"Salvation is from God." did you know that's the literal meaning of Isaiah?