Though this post is a few days late for the customary "Happy New Year"...I do hope you'll allow me to claim that here in the Middle Kingdom, it is not really the New Year until January 23rd. So, perhaps this long overdue post is instead, right on time.
Much has been developing in our life here through these past several months. Our family has experienced the throes of a fast-paced semester that has finally drawn to close. On Friday we'll make our pilgrimage to retreat where we enjoy rest and the opportunity to focus on listening to Him ever more closely. The children are free to run and play with kids just like them, those who live and work outside of their home culture, all over Asia. It is a time where they can let down their guard and just feel free to be who they are.
2012 is going to be another year of growth for our tribe. At long last we can announce that officially we have two sons that will come home in the next month or so! We're well past the concerns of how crazy we appear. Now we do our best to embrace this wild journey He's led us on...to parent a large family...and to live in a foreign culture...and to constantly accept that whatever plans we had for our life must be subjected to the plan He has for our lives.
This last decision to bring #9 home (we're calling him #9 because that's what the school called him before they knew his name, even though he is actually #11 in the H family line-up) was a struggle. It brought this Momma to a place that I've never truly been before. A place in which I must admit fully that I am not adequate for all the responsibilities of this life. That I must depend daily on His grace and strength to make it through. Daddy came to this place peacefully this past summer when being questioned by our Chancellor of Schools. She was asking him about the potential of #9's joining us, and with love and concern she said, "But, can you handle it?"...he retold the experience to me in which his reply was an honest, "no." He said that as soon as he said no, he felt faith surge through him, and he began to share the promises of our Father with her for every challenge, every weakness, every call to obedience. She was deeply touched by his responses. That conversation took place in August...and just recently have we seen what those seeds of faith have produced in these months her her life and the lives of those around us.
Perhaps it is my background, it must be in part my personality, and I'm certain that my culture also contributed to this sense of loathing for weakness. Yet, here I am, soon to be the mother of 11, 9 children still at home, and now I can say with assurance...I am not enough.
But He is.
Living by faith is a risky business on the surface. We wonder how we can ever get the courage enough to take those steps of obedience...but in reality...when we surrender fully to His plan...it is the most secure place to be. We are in His hands. We are surrounded by His protection.
#9...where did he come from? Those of you who have read here, know that we've been "waiting" for paperwork for Nehemiah. The paperwork for him has come through, but we could not move forward until we knew for sure if #9 was in fact our son.
We met #9 again this past June. We visited a private orphanage in a neighboring province. The girls and I had gone there to visit with a group that had come from the US. Little did we know that we also came to see that an H family member was there, waiting for us. Brownie was the first who "knew" that he was our son. She never left his side over the days we were there...she began to plead with Daddy and I to listen to what God was saying to her...through her.
We struggled. Not only with the idea of our family growing again...that is struggle enough...but because our new H family member uses a wheelchair for his mobility...and we live in the Middle Kingdom. I cannot think of any time in the past four years that I've seen someone, using a wheelchair, outside of the hospital. To say that life here is not "handicap accessible" would be the understatement of the century. And yet, we knew He was calling us to trust Him and to open our hearts and lives to this precious boy.
We told the children that it was impossible.
Over and over again..."it is impossible"..."maybe if we were in the US, but not here, it's just impossible!"..."we don't even have a car here! we use city buses to get around as a family! how could we have a son in a wheelchair? it's just impossible!".... "our access to medical care! no school has children in wheelchairs! it's just impossible!"
Magpie, late one night last summer, crawled into our bed, weeping. She told us that she couldn't go back to sleep...that every time she closed her eyes she saw #9's face, and she was certain that the HS was telling her that he was ours! We cried too. We told her that we were committed to praying for a family for him...but for us to be his family, well, it was impossible, impossible, impossible, impossible...
Magpie, through her tears, simply said to us, "We have many words we're not allowed to say in this family...hate, boring...but I think the #1 word we should not be allowed to say is impossible. As many mountains as He has moved in our lives...and as many miracles as we've seen Him perform...He must be so sad to ever hear us say IMPOSSIBLE."
The priesthood of the believer...right there...in our bed...in the middle of the night...TRUTH.
We have been struggling, like never before in the paperwork process, to get to the place where finally we had #9s file in hand...it has taken nearly 6 months...but as of January 6th...we can announce that he has been officially matched with us.
Doors have opened wide at our school during that time to welcome him, where once we were told they would not be able to accept a child in a chair. Hearts have opened wide to receive him here in our community, where once they were closed to anyone with special needs.
We are walking through and witnessing a miracle in process...again...
I have no idea why He has allowed us this formidable blessing, once again...but I am so thankful that He has.
I will post some pictures soon, as I am able. But for now, you can know his name...
Ezra.
(Funny that Nehemiah and Ezra will come home together, I know. They are not the same age...and we chose the names for drastically different reasons...not just because we flipped open the book and picked the first two book names we saw!;)
We will have several changes that we need to make so please lift those matters up with us...perhaps in our housing, we need transportation, a caregiver/aide to help him at school, perhaps a PT teacher/tutor to help with some additional learning as he'll not be in school FT, a the finances to achieve all these changes.
When we finally had the word that Ezra would come home to us...that it was official...the children shrieked and danced around for joy. Brownie wept and went off to the bedroom to pray and thank Him for listening to her... after she emerged from the room she told me..."God heard my prayers."
May they all come to know the One who answers our every prayer.
