Dad Story, Part 7: Coronavirus and Justice / Righteousness / Steadfast Love

Disclaimer:  I'm writing a tale of our journey to adopt our third daughter who is our fifth child.  Yes, we're crazy.  No, I haven't won the argument to get an Armored Personnel Carrier to carry all these people.  And yes, I'm writing it from a dad's perspective.  I hope it helps some dad out there who wonders what in the world God has put on his plate.

As we have continued the pursuit, it hasn’t been easy.  Currently, coronavirus (COVID-19) is ravaging China and beginning what looks like an unabated run across the globe.  We have videos of some pretty horrible conditions in China and some fears about what is happening (or will happen) in the future in the U.S. and what travel will look like.  

I was walking and praying one morning and the verse popped in my head:  don’t let the rich man boast in his riches, the wise man boast in his wisdom, the strong man in his strength, but let him who boasts boast in this: that he understands and knows Me, the LORD, who exercises justice, righteousness, and steadfast love on the earth (Jer. 9.23-24). 

So that’s where I take my fears these days.  I pray that Jesus will show up and exercise some justice in some places, making a way for a little girl in an orphanage in China to find a home in the suburbs of Houston.  I pray that there will be some righteousness worked on the earth, the making right of things that aren’t:  like a threatening pandemic that is bad in its own right but a moral issue for our family as it keeps us from our daughter.  And I pray that God will show both here and there, to us and to her, His steadfast love by preparing us for her and her for us, even now knitting our hearts together.

I don’t always have a good control of my fear.  I certainly don’t have a good control over the responses of superpowers to the happenings in the world.  But I know a love that conquers all of that.  It even conquered death itself.  And I can trust in that kind of love and the One who gives it.

Dad Story, Part 6: How is God moving?

Disclaimer:  I'm writing a tale of our journey to adopt our third daughter who is our fifth child.  Yes, we're crazy.  No, I haven't won the argument to get an Armored Personnel Carrier to carry all these people.  And yes, I'm writing it from a dad's perspective.  I hope it helps some dad out there who wonders what in the world God has put on his plate.

The Queen consistently says that the place she sees God move the most is in the realm of adoption and orphan care.  We have a library of stories from our own family that would provide the veracity.  Here’s another one.

Late in December I had a friend call me. He is a now-retired business man who has made more money and lost more money than anyone I personally know.  And when he’s worth millions, he’s the exact same guy as when he is down to his house and his clothes.  He cares so little about money but is so generous with it that God has blessed him immensely.  For me, he epitomizes what Paul told Timothy about instructing those rich in this world to be rich in good deeds, generous and ready to share (1 Tim 6).  My friend is that guy.

My friend called me in late December and said, “Hey, the wife and I want to give some money.  What’s going on these days?”  I sent him a list of some things the church could do with $1000, $5000, $10,000, and $25,000 depending on what he wanted to give.  If you think that’s weird, send me an email and I’ll explain why I keep an updated list like that laying around.

He called back two days later and said he and his wife had prayed and they heard God say they were supposed to send some money to our family specifically.  Two days later, I got a note from him telling me that he loved me and was proud of us, that as always there were no strings attached to that love.  Contained in the note was a check.  My eyes about fell out of my head:  $5000.  Two days after that, we had a payment due for…wait for it…$5000.  I called him and told him what God had orchestrated - because he had NO IDEA we were adopting - and he laughed this laugh that I imagine echoes in the hallways of sacred spaces when Jesus shows off like that.

Hebrews 11 says that without faith it’s impossible to please God.  We had taken a step of faith.  My friend and his wife had done the same.  

But that’s not the end of the story.  We told a couple of close friends about how Jesus was moving and doing what He does for the orphan.  One went home to tell her spiritually struggling teenage son about it.  He flipped out:  “What do you mean, mom?  How can God know exactly what people need?  How can He tell others and then just do that for people?  I mean, c’mon mom, that is amazing!”  

Not only did my friend's obedience bless us, the ripples went farther than any of us imagined.  So I called him back and told him about it.  He and his wife were on speaker and didn’t laugh.  They wept at how Jesus had used their willingness in ways they couldn’t have known or seen.  In the hallways of sacred spaces, I imagine their weeping echoing too.

Dad Story, Part 5: When the Switch Flipped

Disclaimer:  I'm writing a tale of our journey to adopt our third daughter who is our fifth child.  Yes, we're crazy.  No, I haven't won the argument to get an Armored Personnel Carrier to carry all these people.  And yes, I'm writing it from a dad's perspective.  I hope it helps some dad out there who wonders what in the world God has put on his plate.

You need to know something about the Queen.  When she is serious about something and when there is a task to accomplish that something, you can put Everest, Atilla the Hun with his hordes, and thermonuclear war between her and the goal and she will still make it look like it was easy.  To say she is persistent is the kind of understatement that makes you sound silly.  She’s a bulldog with a bone, an addict to productivity, a force of nature.  Now, before you ask what kind of woman I married, she’s amazing.  She’s not like this always.  But she has a switch that gets flipped.  When it does, 1.21 Gigawatts of energy forge a future by sheer force of will.  It’s amazing to watch.

And I’m a plodder.  But when I’m in, I’m in.  Even if it takes me a while.  I’m in.  So it was with our home study and training.  We knocked out 10 hours worth of home study in 3 days, which included two trips to a town about 90 minutes away.  We did training at night while on vacation.  Bam, it got done in record time.  In fact, she had it planned such that we were able to send in almost everything our agency needed for the next big step (which can take weeks to complete).  A force of nature, I tell you.  She’s amazing.

I put that in the record of what-happened-along-the-way because I want every dad to know that there will come a time when you’ll need to buckle down and just go for it.  Fill the form out.  Type the letter.  Watch the video.  You wouldn’t say any of it is fun but it’s the right thing to do.  I tell my boys with regularity that the difference between a boy and a man is that a boy is ruled by his appetites and a man by his responsibilities.  I knew my wife had flipped the switch and was going to run at a breathtaking pace.  It was my responsibility to keep up and do my part.  So I did.  And gladly!  Don’t think it was drudgery.  We laughed a lot and prayed quite a bit and talked and enjoyed the process.  It was an investment into her and into our daughter that I was more than willing – even excited – to make.

And you know what happened?  The switch flipped for me.  I was all in, certain that this was what we were supposed to do.  My obedience set me up for my heart to follow along.  My priorities determined my passion.  She was ours and I was (and am!) ready to have her home.

Dad Story, Part 4: It'll all be worth it in the end

Disclaimer:  I'm writing a tale of our journey to adopt our third daughter who is our fifth child.  Yes, we're crazy.  No, I haven't won the argument to get an Armored Personnel Carrier to carry all these people.  And yes, I'm writing it from a dad's perspective.  I hope it helps some dad out there who wonders what in the world God has put on his plate.

I like to walk and pray, especially in the early mornings.  Somewhere around 5am typically, I’m up and out the door with our slightly spastic dog to get some fresh air and exercise.  I’ve always struggled a bit to sit and pray.  But walking and praying is much easier – something about my body being engaged that helps my mind stay focused.

One of these mornings I was talking to Father about the question, “When will my heart turn?  Or will it?”  I knew we were being obedient.  But I also knew it was an obedience of determination, not of delight.  So as I walked and we conversed, there came a point where the Spirit said to me, “It’ll all be worth it in the end.”  I know His voice.  It rings with a kind of authority that I cannot generate and has a resonance that reaches farther down into me than my thoughts can take me on my own.  It was Him.  He was speaking.  And He made me a promise. 

One time when I was out walking in the fall of 2008, I heard the same voice say, “January.”  I went home and told the Queen that Father had spoken but that I had no idea what He meant by “January.”  When God speaks to me like this, I typically put it in a file that is labeled, “Stuff God has said that I don’t understand yet.”  I don’t try to overinterpret or take guesses.  With the instance in 2008, it turns out that we were matched with Peanut in January, 2009.  And, lo and behold, she was born in January, 2007.  

So into the file the saying went, with me believing that Jesus was serious when He said it’ll all be worth it in the end.  I write this in late February, 2020, some 4 months or so after God has spoken.  I still don’t know what it means but I’m holding on to the promise.

Dad Story, Part 3: The Moment

Disclaimer:  I'm writing a tale of our journey to adopt our third daughter who is our fifth child.  Yes, we're crazy.  No, I haven't won the argument to get an Armored Personnel Carrier to carry all these people.  And yes, I'm writing it from a dad's perspective.  I hope it helps some dad out there who wonders what in the world God has put on his plate.

With our other two daughters (both adopted from China), I distinctly remember The Moment.  

With Peanut, it was when we got an update picture and she was sitting there holding the pillow with our pictures that the Queen had sent over.  I was undone.  Over.  Through.  I literally stood up from the bed (where we were looking at the update) and walked to my computer.  The Queen asked me what I was doing.  I said I was buying plane tickets because I figured I could fly over there and just show up at the orphanage with my nose pressed against the glass until they handed her over.  And no, I didn’t buy the tickets.  But no, I wasn’t kidding in the moment.

With Minion, I knew from the moment I got a screenshot of my beloved playing with a little cutie.  I was ready.  I told The Queen to stay there and I’d do the paperwork.  I just knew.

But in this process, I hadn’t had The Moment yet.  I definitely felt like I had been obedient.  I had prayed diligently and listened quietly.  We had organized a compromise that put us in the process and readied us for more without committing us to something I wasn’t fully committed to yet.  

But this was different.  The only thing I was certain of was that my wife was more certain than me.  The picture clarified a little more when we stepped out in obedience to get a home study done.  But no certainty.  Just struggle and a consistent plea for God to make things clearer than they were.  I am a big enough boy to know that I am not owed The Moment.  Faith-filled obedience is enhanced by something like that but it’s not a key ingredient.

The thing that I took from this stage was that my feelings and my obedience can be wondrously congruent. But sometimes they are not.  I get to obey without feeling like it (and model the fact that I’m obeying for eyes and ears close enough to see) because that’s what God asks of me in every area of my life.  I tell our people at church at least twice a year that feelings are great companions but terrible guides.  

And now was the time for me to live that out.  

Dad Story, Part 2: At Odds

Disclaimer:  I'm writing a tale of our journey to adopt our third daughter who is our fifth child.  Yes, we're crazy.  No, I haven't won the argument to get an Armored Personnel Carrier to carry all these people.  And yes, I'm writing it from a dad's perspective.  I hope it helps some dad out there who wonders what in the world God has put on his plate.

My wife and I were at odds.  We weren’t being ugly to one another.  Not that kind of “at odds.”  It wasn’t a fight.  It was a disagreement.  And there’s not much common ground between Adopt and Not Adopt. 

True story:  I am personally inclined to say yes to my wife as much as possible.  Some see that as weakness.  If that’s you, you’re an idiot.  My wife is wicked smart, empathetic relationally, strong of personality, has grit to spare, and has sacrificed beyond measure in just about every sphere of her life for our family.  Why wouldn’t I want to say yes to her?  It’s easy.

But on this issue, I was struggling.  I wasn’t saying no because I’m anti-anything.  I was simply inclined to believe that what we said on the front end still stood and that God hadn’t made it clear yet that we should do differently.  She wants me to lead in situations like this.  I want to lead.  But we stood on different sides.

As an aside, I love this about us.  We work through things like this.  We pray alone and together.  We talk honestly.  We give each other space.  She’s especially gracious on the timing, because I’m a crockpot thinker.  She practiced debate in high school and left opponents weeping and seated in their shame.  To date, I have never won an argument with her.  Which is why it takes her gracious patience to let me think and pray.  I hope, if you’re married, you get to the point of healthy engagement over issues without arguing.  We sought to hear one another and hear God.  That made the conversations heavy but easy.

After a few weeks, which seems like an eternity to a natural-born, DNA-inclined peacemaker, we came to a compromise.  I honestly can’t remember whose idea it was, so I’ll go ahead and claim credit.  

The compromise was this:  if we were to go on a mission trip, it would require a passport.  If we were to adopt, it would require a home study.  So we set out to figure out how to get a home study done.  At first, it looked cost prohibitive because we’d have to join the full China program.  That was an initial investment of about $6000.  We both felt like that was our answer.  It didn’t seem like good stewardship to drop $6000 for a “maybe.”  Lo and behold, a few days later our agency let us know about a different option that was close to 1/3 of that.  That was a pill we could swallow. 

Had we not had that compromise, I honestly don’t know where we’d be or what (if anything) I’d be writing about.  But my experience as a pastor (and certainly as a husband) is that when my heart is inclined toward my wife and hers to mine and both are submitted to God, something tends to work out.

Dad Story, Part 1: Yes, we're adopting again

Disclaimer:  I'm writing a tale of our journey to adopt our third daughter who is our fifth child.  Yes, we're crazy.  No, I haven't won the argument to get an Armored Personnel Carrier to carry all these people.  And yes, I'm writing it from a dad's perspective.  I hope it helps some dad out there who wonders what in the world God has put on his plate.

The Queen and Bear went to China in September, 2019.  I remember managing kids most of the week and praying hard for the two on the other side of the world.  

We had a deal, though.  A pact.  No additional kid needed.  God would have to write it in the sky or the kid’s name would have to be Leroy.  That was the deal.

Upon return, the Queen was tired but alive on the inside, advocating for the children she had the opportunity to evaluate as a medical professional.  I don’t know how many people across the US heard from my stick of lit dynamite.  She had Facebook conversations, phone calls, text exchanges, emails, smoke signals, and two carrier pigeons.  I lost count of who all and how all she was communicating with people and what all she was saying.

My wife has a way of generating ideas that release untold good in the world.  If I get the chance to say what is on her tombstone, that’s what I’d say.  It’s an unbelievable gift to me, to our church family, and to the world.  Her idea was that she could network like a wild woman and come up with families who would be glad to step into the process of adopting and changing the world for the better by bringing an orphan home.  So she went on about the business of carrying out her idea.  

There was one little one who kept coming up that didn’t really get much traction.  At one point, maybe there was a family but it was a complicated situation because of another agency being involved.  So she told God and then me (in that order) that we were open to being her family even if we didn’t feel called to it. 

I was…less than thrilled. 

We had a deal.  A pact.  The kid’s name wasn’t Leroy.  No sky writing.  Nothing.

And I was pretty sure she was nuts.  

That’s how this whole story started.

July 13th is a good day

July 13th is a good day around our house.

Actually, it's a GREAT day.

It's a miracle reminder kind of day.

We were in the middle of the longest wait in human history.  Olympics.  The flu.  All sorts of craziness was keeping us away.  Pins and needles.  Frustration and tears.  General anxiety.  We called and were told that if our papers arrived by July 3rd, we'd be good to go.

And it arrived.  On July 3rd.  Just like we prayed.  Bam.  God moved.

Except the office was closed that Friday because the 4th was Saturday.  It's admittedly hard to worship on Sunday when you think your life is on hold waiting for paperwork and permission.  Especially when God came through but the office was closed.

So the Queen called on Monday at 8am.  One thing you do not want to do:  get on the other side of the Queen when she knows she's right.  Believe me.  I've known her for 23 years.  I've been married to her for 19.  Don't do that.

She said to the nice lady:  "Hey, so we're good to go, right?"

Nice Lady:  "No.  Sorry.  Our office was closed and we can't get the arrangements made."

The Queen:  "Uhm.  That wasn't the deal.  You said if it's there by the 3rd, we're good.  It was there.  God moved.  We're going, right?  You're going to hold up your end of the bargain, right?"

Nice Lady:  "Well, all I can do is try to see if they'll make these arrangements.  We've never done it on such short notice."

The Queen:  "Great.  I look forward to your phone call in the morning."

Tuesday at 9am, the phone rings.  We are headed to China to get our baby girl.

In less than 48 hours, we packed, bought plane tickets, and were out the door.  In four short days, we had her in our arms.

Happy Gotcha Day, Peanut.  You are a gift to us from God.  And a reminder of His miracle-working power.  Mommy and Daddy love you very much.

What I'm Learning about Patience

Here's the setting:

Son comes down to eat his 87th snack of the day at 10:00pm.  I'm wrapping up, locking up, and turning off lights.  He sits down at the kitchen table.  I do too.  

He eats like a sloth on barbiturates.

Every cracker gets divided into 64ths.  Chewing is like glacial activity.  The peanut butter between the crackers gets licked off...every microgram of it.

Me-to-myself:  JUST EAT YOUR @#$)#%*(@$ CRACKERS SO WE CAN GO TO BED BECAUSE I'M FREAKING TIRED ALREADY AND ISN'T THIS YOUR 12TH PACKAGE OF PEANUT BUTTER CRACKERS TODAY???

Me-to-him:  Hey bud.  Tell me about camp.  What was the coolest thing you learned or had reinforced? (while still steaming on the inside)

Him-to-me:  Some thoughtful responses, some late night blather.  

Me-to-him:  What's one thing you need to do to reinforce all that?

Him-to-me:  I need to _____________.  (a solid action step)  Hey dad, you want one of these crackers?

Me-to-him:  Nope.

He finished just short of 22 hours later (it seemed), washed his hands, brushed his teeth (again).  Then, at the top of the stairs as he was headed to his room and I was headed to mine...

"Hey dad.  Thanks for sitting with me.  It was really great to talk to you.  Goodnight!" *big hug*

Me-to-myself:  Thank you God that I didn't say out loud all the impatient things I was thinking...

Here's what I'm learning about patience:

I'm only patient when things don't go as I planned in either direction or timing.  That's the only time I get to exercise patience.  When it goes my way, no patience is needed.

Be smart enough not to say everything that I'm thinking.  And be gracious enough not to hold other people to what they said but may not have meant in the heat of the moment.  Parents.  Kids.  Spouses.  Bosses.  Employees.  They all apply.

I can't think of an example in my life or those I know where someone says, "Gee, I wish I would've been less patient there."  The payoff for patience can look like a life-giving hug at the top of the stairs or something meaningful to you.  But it almost always pays off.  To be clear, I'm not talking about passivity here - sitting and doing nothing and expecting God to sort it all out.  I'm talking about patience - the kind of intentional and active waiting (or sitting at the table conversing over peanut butter crackers) that the Bible describes.

Here's hoping that helps someone today.

3 Years

I have kept myself busy today with helpful chores around the house, but The Shadow has always lingered back behind me somewhere.  It's 9:00pm and I figured it's time to look it in the face.

Today is three years since The Phone Call came.  "Hey Trent.  It's [Queen's Best Friend].  You need to get the kids settled and get back to the hospital as soon as you can.  Maggie has had a stroke."  I can take you to the place on the Gulf Freeway where I answered.  It's not etched into my memory.  It's more like seared.

Let me tell you (and The Shadow) what I've seen in the last three years...

God's faithfulness in saving the life of my little girl and bringing her back to health.  He'd still be faithful if it had gone a different way, but I'm glad He chose to display Himself in this manner for her.

God's strength in our lives and life.  Thank you, God, for seeing us all through.

Resilience in my kids.  They bounce back like rubber balls.  I don't doubt that they've been marked by these three years.  I think they consistently show how resilient they are.  And not because we're perfect parents, but I think love, attention, and some intentional investment keep them bouncy (in a lot of areas of life).

The church is the greatest institution in the world.  I serve as a pastor, so I know it's not perfect.  But it's great.  And I have a legion of stories - chapters that were written by the love and selflessness of others - that prove it.

Faithfulness.  Strength.  Resilience.  Church.

I hope that encourages someone who has their own Shadow that's in pursuit.