nesting

i spent the day moving things from here to there. 

important stuff like placing random crayons back into the crayon box. separating pencils and pens from the general fray of the junk drawer.  closets were emptied and reorganized.  papers were shuffled and tossed.  puzzle pieces reunited with their correct boxes.  that kind of thing.

there are now piles heading to goodwill and piles heading to the growing garbage heap.  cushions were removed. couches were cleaned. clothes were sorted.  i've seen this kind of behavior before.  four times to be exact.   

i am nesting.  

i am readying the nest for a new addition. it's what we mamas just do when the time draws close. it is our instinct.  and i do my very best to use this extra, innate energy to the fullest.

the nest is definitely more in need of readying as we add the fifth than it was adding the first child.   truth be told, the nest has gotten a little out of hand lately.   i still can't get over how similar adoption is to a pregnancy. i am officially in my third trimester, i suppose.  i have arrived at that scary place where my husband just shakes his head and answers, "yes, dear... sure, honey...whatever you say, sweetheart." (i really like this part of the deal).  i keep reminding him i've asked for no late night cheeseburgers or cartons of mint chocolate chip. but we have clearly entered that final month of waiting.  her room is ready. and i am in the process of getting everything else ready.  i am making lists of items we need.  i am making lists of things to be done.  i am making lists.  

i guess somewhere in the back of my mind, i believe that everything will be smoother if EVERYthing is in place.  come on jody, i tell myself, when is EVERYthing ever in place in a family of six?  impossible.  we live in a constant state of movement. we are always in search of that elusive roll of scotch tape...always on the hunt for shoes...always hunting for socks which match and finding spoons buried in the garden.  

that is life with four children.  

this is not a magazine layout, folks -- nowhere close! but, nonetheless, i spend countless hours preparing. i find myself up in her closet touching her clothing...rearranging toddler items...imagining her in the bath tub.  recently i had a vision of her on our driveway.  not really a vision.  (at least not in the preternatural sense -- thankfully).  just a picture of her.  a picture of bella drawing with sidewalk chalk.  

can you see it?  

i can.  

i see a sibling or two around her showing her, demonstrating, modeling.  i am pretty certain she has never drawn on a driveway.  i am pretty certain even a driveway is a completely foreign idea.  some of you stop me in the hallways of our church or in the aisles of the market to tell me you are getting so excited about her near arrival.  i ran into my friend, allison, at school this morning and she hugged me saying she she can't believe we are getting so close.  "i have chill bumps on my arms!" she said and showed them to me.  indeed, there they were.  

chill bumps or goosebumps for a little girl in china - oh, how wonderful.  

last night at a school meeting, my friend, beverly, brought me a few more sweet dresses she is passing down from her daughter, lilia.  dresses for bella.  she had been carrying them around and wanted to make sure i got them.  they are now hanging in bella's closet.  ready for wearing.  we both think the yellow gingham will be perfect on her.  oh, we know there is much ahead that is hard and challenging and demanding, but i am so thankful that God provides these tender moments to linger in a closet or hug a friend or picture a little girl on a driveway with a fistful of pink chalk.   

God is allowing me these rose-colored pictures as encouragement.   He knows i know enough to be more than intimidated by bringing home a child with a heart condition.  but, He is not allowing me to set down too long in that overwhelming place.  He is encouraging the sunlight.  He is encouraging the sweetness.  He is encouraging the beauty that will be ours -- regardless.  i am so very thankful.  

isn't it amazing how He has created that little something in women that causes us to prepare for a new child? that is simply and truly a thing of beauty.  of course it is also rather practical.  i'd hate it if i was steeped in lethargy right now.  i am in need of this little boost of energy and, by golly, i'm making the most of it.

my friend, kelly, stopped over unexpectedly one night this week.  she handed me a box.  inside was of all things A NEST.   it is just the sweetest thing.  placed within this nest are 5 sort of egg shaped rocks.  on each rock is engraved the names of our children -- including bella!  oh my, i could just cry!  it is downright breathtaking.  i have it in the kitchen right now and look at it often.   i know my children think this bird thing is getting out of hand.  they probably wonder if i am slowly replacing them all with bird paraphenalia.  one day emily counted "bird items" around the house.  in protection of my children's privacy, i won't publish the number.  they probably think i am headed for the crazy-cat-lady-house.  maybe.  but for a woman who loves a theme -- well, i'm kind of tickled.   just for the record, i realize this story isn't about THE NEST.  no, not one bit.  bella will come home and i guarantee there will be dishes in the sink and laundry on the floor.  the nest will most likely have unidentifiable smudges on windows and soap scum in the showers.  because that's our life, no matter how hard we work to get it all ready, our nest is a bit of a mess.  

a mess, yes.  but blessed. 

and when she comes home our nest will be full.

caution! bird's worms - do not eat!

baby birds were literally dropping from the sky.  it was a windy day, storms were quickly approaching.  while rick and the children worked in the yard, the trees blew hard.  large branches, leaves, and twigs pelted our lawn.  unfortunately,  baby birds were tossed down as well. what exactly do you do with itty bitty birds fallen from high nests?  of course we knew not to handle them much...i repeated the warning i had heard as a child, "a mother bird will not return if a human hand touches her baby."  as a little girl, i remember thinking, "are you kidding me?  what kind of mother is that?"  i have always had sort of a tender nook in my heart for needy wildlife.  my mother tells stories of me hiding sick rabbits in shoe boxes deep in my closet, with the hope of nursing them back to health. as a child,  i walked each day a few blocks to school with my friend and classmate, larry bocci.  in our early elementary days we were known to drag home a variety of injured or distressed animals ( i.e, roadkill).  we also were the ones to bring home broken beer bottles (because they were pretty) and even one january a discarded and dried out christmas tree (because i couldn't fathom anyone wanting to throw away their christmas tree).
    so here we were with some baby birds placed in bushes around our yard.  we hoped they would make it back into their nests if we just left them alone.  we hoped if we kept the cats indoors these little creatures might have a chance.  monday morning dawned and the rain came hard and fierce.  before school tyler and i realized one of the baby birds was still on the front grass, not well protected from the driving rain.   in his school uniform he ran out and moved it underneath a bush.  this bush could only provide so much protection, however. between our cats and the neighbor cats, it was only a matter of time before this baby would be discovered.  so yesterday we came to the conclusion that we would have to start providing for it ourselves.  my children needed no convincing.  worms were dug up.  water was brought out, and eventually a little bed was created in a protected cage.  sarah elizabeth begged me to consider allowing it to live in her room in the decorative white wooden cage on her dresser.   she reminded me of another little girl from long ago.   we finally settled on a corner of the deck.  i knew she'd be in good hands with my third child.  this is the same child that announced as a tiny girl, "don't read me that bird book again, mama!"  you know the one.  p.d. eastman's "are you my mother?"  yes, the one where the baby bird is left alone and has to travel around town in search of his mother.   the mother does return...she was only gone in search of food for her birdie...but, nonetheless, whether 4 or 40 it is a tear jerker.

   last night i returned from a school meeting to find holes in my yard and flower beds. i had a moment of frustration - that was newly planted grass...and those flowers hadn't been there very long either.  but i had to laugh when i walked into the kitchen and found this note taped to the backsplash above a plastic container, "caution! bird's worms - do not eat!"  apparently sarah is well aware that her siblings eat everything and anything in the kitchen and could, perhaps, be tempted by the clear container of dirt and wiggling worms.   the children are now hand feeding this sweet baby.  it eagerly opens its little mouth waiting for its dinner.  this morning tyler and i were up quite early.  we sat at the kitchen window and watched as the mother returned with a mouth full of worms. she hadn't forgotten her baby!  human hands had been all over this little feathered gal and yet the mama returned.  i just knew it had always been an old wives tale...something i was told in order to keep the chaos level (and pet level) under control.  tyler and i sat and watched in great wonder.  this mother now sits on a limb off to the side of our deck and has been there ever since.  we are going to have to release this little friend soon.  we know that.  she doesn't belong with us, but we are so glad she's been here to visit. we also know how this might end.  we have cats.  we have had more than our share of nature and its sometimes brutal endings. and yes, i even have holes in my yard and worms on my counter, but i am certain they are worth the sweet memories in our hearts.

unhealthy hearts

today i scheduled bella's cardiac consult appointment.  this is the second time i have had to schedule this.  last august i made the call thinking we would possibly have her by january 2010.  i had to cancel that one.  the day i called and told them we just wouldn't have her that early, my voice cracked. they were pleasant and sweet and told me to reschedule when we were closer to getting her.  so now with our LOA in hand,  i called.  i've never been particularly good at scheduling appointments for the four, healthy kids living in our home.  scheduling one for a daughter i have not yet held, was unbelievably strange.  we have a date though:  friday morning, july 16th.  it may be cutting it close...there's a chance i'll have to push it back again.  but not months...maybe just a week or two...not months.  i am sure.  i hung up the phone and prayed, "Lord, let this one be right."  let us walk into that cardiologist's office on a sunny, summer, friday morning.  let us Lord.  please, let us.  let this be the day when we finally have some information on our little girl.  right now we know so little.  sometimes i just cannot wrap my brain around the fact that we have a tiny girl waiting on the other side of the world.  a tiny girl who had open heart surgery last july.  a tiny girl with a serious medical condition but in an orphanage which hasn't allowed us even the most scant update.  all we know is "she hasn't had to go back to the doctor."  she wouldn't be taken unless there was something blatantly wrong.  well, that's a blessing....but in our country where well visits and specialists and preventive medicine is the norm...i realize how far apart our worlds really are. the nurse asked me to list the problems with her heart.  i started to recite words and terms which are now a part of my vocabulary.  i listed the three different conditions with her heart and when i asked her if she wanted more information, she paused and then answered, "umm...no...i've run out of room to write."  i faltered for a moment.  this IS a lot.  i looked at the file on the kitchen counter and at all the long, hard to pronounce names and i felt my own heart skip a beat.  i felt that breathlessness which sometimes hits me in small waves of anxiety.  we've had people ask us if we "really know what adopting a child from another country with special needs will look like."  our answer:  no.  we don't.   we've read articles and books. we've been counseled. we've done the coursework and  the videos and the etc... but truth be told,  we really don't know. we can't possibly know.  we've also had numerous people remark how eager we must be to get her to america so that she can have good medical care.  so that her heart can be monitored ...fixed...repaired...healed.   oh yes. of course we are eager.  of course we will want to seek out the best care available.  of course we are thrilled to be living in a city like atlanta which has all sorts of tremendous options.  but....i have to tell you, there's more to this picture.  bringing bella to america to fix her broken heart is part of it.  yes.   but here's the deal...if you ask us what really is most exciting about adopting this child and bringing her home, it is the chance she will have to hear someday about the eternal healing of her heart.   are you following?  yes, she will come and receive good medical care for her physical, earthly, temporary heart.  but even more so,  this child will come and hear about Jesus, the lover of her heart.  she will hear about Jesus, the healer of broken hearts.  she will hear about Jesus and have the chance to know Him and His eternal healing.  i have tried to put words to this in the past.  it is almost impossible.  adoption is such the picture of our relationship with Christ.  He adopts us into His kingdom.  we are absolutely helpless and hopeless without Him. we have no advocate, no means, nothing to bring, no thing to offer.  but He chooses us and brings us home.  as broken people, we are all in need of some good heart-fixing.  we are all in need of some major restoration and repair whether we live in china or america.   i am amazed that God chose for us this little girl with an unhealthy heart.   really these words are not sufficient to express the joy i feel when i think about the way our God works to show His great love and His great glory.  i have written about this passage - isaiah 61- in other posts, but it just keeps coming back to me.  it is the very picture of rescue....it is the picture of how God rescues us and tenderly places upon our heads a Crown of Beauty....how He covers our sad situations with the Oil of Gladness and a Garment of Praise....how he binds up our brokenness...and proclaims freedom and release....

"He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners....

to comfort all who mourn...

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness

instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

instead of a spirit of despair." 

~ isaiah 61

an early LOA and a little humble pie

my phone rang.  i recognized our adoption agent's number.  it must be josh.  why would he be calling?  uh-oh, what is wrong? i thought...
  "jody, i have great news!" he said immediately.  "great news...i can't even believe this, but your LOA is back early.  much earlier than expected." 
  "what? are you kidding me?" i was stunned.  we had just this past week come to terms with the fact that we were still possibly a month away from receiving this LOA.   i, too, couldn't believe it.
   "that's awesome, great, unbelievable...wow..." i stumbled through my excitement, not really knowing what to say.  i could feel the smile stretch across my face.  i could feel the increased beat of my heart and the joy spreading to the tips of my toes. this was big.  and i knew it.
   josh continued, "average wait time on this is typically 60+ days...yours came back in 29 days.  i don't know why. i am not sure we've ever had one come back this early.  it's crazy.  this actually puts you a month ahead of where we thought you'd be."
   "josh, i know.  i can't believe it...but in a way i can.   do you know the hundreds of people praying for bella right now?" i replied.
just last week josh had told me because of the timing, we probably wouldn't be getting bella until end of summer or early fall.  we had been hoping all along for early summer, convinced that bringing her home before we were into another busy school year would be best.  i grew panicy at the thought of leaving our crazy household in august as emily started high school and the other three resumed their hectic schedules.  i asked people to pray specifically that this would speed up.  the very night before the phone call, while tyler was praying at bedtime, he asked God to move things along more quickly.   only a few days ago in my last blog entry (just the facts mam), i wrote about how our dates added up to a later travel time but declared we would pray "earnestly and expectantly" for an earlier date.  crazy.  i would like to say that this was our faith. i would like to write that we prayed with complete faith God would indeed move things along....that  we prayed expectantly as we are instructed to do.  but i would be lying.  i typed that phrase, yes.  i said those words, yes.  but i can tell you it was probably more just a plea than it was a statement of my strong belief.  i am sure on the inside i was thinking more along the lines of, "well...we'll pray this way, but we know nothing goes quickly in the world of adoption.  we know that smooth is not usually the descriptive adjective used...we know most things come back late, not early."  i typed "earnestly and expectantly", but truthfully, i felt half hearted and doubtful.
when i got the call this week from josh i experienced disbelief and great joy.  soon after though,  i had an intense moment of embarrassment.  i had doubted God.   deep in my heart i had doubted God, the Savior and Father of bella grace.   i doubted the God who has been delivering people from darkness and imprisonment for thousands of years. God who parted the red sea.  God who provided manna in the wilderness. God who protected daniel in the lions' den.  God who walked on water. God who multiplied fish and bread. God who has rescued me from great darkness.   what could i say?  once again, completely humbled that He would choose to work through this adoption teaching me even more Great is His Faithfulness.  our children recognized it immediately.  they knew prayers had been answered.  there didn't have to be a reason for our LOA to come back so quickly.  it came back quickly because God heard their prayers. God hears their prayers.  their faith is simple.  my thoughts were centering on china and the government and the system and all of its miles of red tape.  i hadn't factored in a our miraculous and all powerful God.   i hadn't factored in that for a God who moves moutains this piece of paper was nothing.
so with that lesson learned, we go forward.  we now have about 60 days until we will receive our TA (travel approval).  if things continue to move along, we will most likely be heading to china sometime at the end of june or early july. we are thrilled.   not because we convinced God of our timing...but because we are convinvced that His timing is perfect.   as i stated in the last entry, "He knows the very day we will walk in that orphanage and hold our bella for the first time."  we will continue to pray earnestly and expectantly....and we will.

just the facts mam!

my original intention with this blog was to keep everyone updated on the very latest concerning our adoption of bella grace.  but as is usual with me, words get in the way.  why say something short and sweet when i can elaborate, elongate and extenuate. why skip down a succint path when i can travel a more circuitous route. even my 12 year old son recently told me, "mom, you could turn anything into a story."  i am pretty sure he wasn't paying me a compliment.  if you've been reading my blog for very long you are, by now, quite certain i was the student who always ran over in her essays and long in her explanations.  i was constantly told in red slashing marks to condense and cut and curtail.  when i finally stood in front of my own english students, i formed a new appreciation for the direct writer.  it took only grading my first batch of essays from my 125 students before i realized that words were perhaps a bit overrated. as my weekends were filled with piles of papers and containers of red pens, i secretly began to dread those students who suffered from my own disease: excessive-wordiness.  they were inadvertently keeping me buried in piles of paperwork.   in my years as a high school teacher i had countless opportunities to write in bold red letters the authoritative phrases, "be more concise"...."get to the point"...."too wordy!"  recently, i even had a former student of mine remind me of this fact on facebook.  but perhaps i've been out of the classroom too long,  because here we are in the ninth month of our adoption journey and though i have expelled thousands of words on the subject of bella and her adoption i realize it is not always clear where exactly we are in the process. if you are a person who prefers bullet points to paragraphs then you will appreciate this admission and my renewed effort to every once in a while produce only the facts (mam).  

 the facts, definitions and timeline:
* DOSSIER - (a large and comprehensive file that contains everything possible about our adoption and our family...i am certain they have included the fact that the mcnatt family prefers jif to skippy...seriously.) the dossier was sent at the end of february to the CCAA (children's center for adoption affairs) in china.


* LID - (Log in Date):  march 17, 2010 - this is the date that the dossier was officially logged into china's adoption system.


* LOA - (Letter of Approval):  we are waiting for this date when we will be officially approved by china and officially matched to bella grace.  as of today, april 13, we were told that we are still probably 3 weeks away. we were "pre-approved" last july...but that has little to do with our actual approval.


* Final Immigration - once that LOA arrives we will apply once more to the CIS for immigration with the US government.  this time around we are applying for bella grace to be granted approval to come to the US.  that process typically takes 2-3 months for approval.


* TA (Travel Approval) - once final immigration is finished we will receive our TA.  at this point we will have a specific timeframe of when we will be heading to china to get our bella.
 
though these dates seem to add up to an early fall travel time....we are praying earnestly and expectantly that summer is a possibility.  our adoption agent still believes that a late july or early august timeframe is within reach. 


we know God has this all figured out.  we trust that He knows the very date... the very hour that rick and i will walk into that orphanage and hold bella in our arms for the very first time.  He planned it long ago.  He planned it before we even knew about bella...before we even knew we were going to adopt.  isn't that amazing?
but...because i am human and struggle a bit with issues of control...   i have made sure He knows how strongly i believe summer to be our best option.   i have explained countless times to Him that the fall would be a little more challenging.  i have pointed out how crazy our august could be with emily starting high school and volleyball and the other children preparing for a new school year, not to mention this is our child and each day apart feels stolen.   i have made it pretty clear what i think is perfect timing.   i have done my very best to be persuasive.   i know...pathetic.  i am just being honest here. will i ever learn to walk fully behind Him with arms wide open and the plans and schemes of my own heart put aside.   i don't know.  i am trying.  i am really trying.  but even my trying amounts to nothing much without Him.   


okay, so that's it.  that was the best i can do.  i realize that i probably have still exceeded the word limit and that those bullet points are surrounded with lengthy paragraphs...
but...well...i tried.   what can i say?

smooshed squirrels and sunday afternoons

 it was a sunday afternoon and we were heading home from church.  instead of bickering about who sat in which seat...instead of debating who would eat the last slice of pizza for lunch....instead of poking our sibling or sassing our mother....we were actually having a nice, calm, and even tender, conversation about our adoption of bella.  but then it happened. we were speeding along the quiet road just minutes from our street when that poor, unfortunate squirrel froze a few feet ahead of our suv.  we all screamed. we all winced.  we all cringed.   we all looked behind our car to see nothing more than a wisp of fluffy tail fluttering in the breeze of our yukon.   rick, the guilty driver, quickly pleaded his case.  "he zigged when he should have zagged!" was the best he could come up with.  not good enough for our car load of children.  actually, our 12 year old son was very much on his dad's side, agreeing that the squirrel, lacking poor judgment, was clearly the one at fault.  connor, age 7, though, was not to be easily consoled.  he immediately listed all dad's other atrocities against small animals in the road which he has apparently had opportunity to witness - some of which i wasn't even aware.   so much for our sweet and tender conversation.  this was real life:  running over squirrels and arguing over the last slices of pizza.  these are some of the things that just make our family normal and real.  these are things that remind us of who we are even in the sweet story of our adoption.
      you see, it is particularly amusing to me because just that very morning at church a video was shown during the sermon. this video portrayed a family which seemed to be fully relying on God...fully in pursuit of His will for their lives....fully trusting...fully faithful...fully together.   funny what a little bit of editing can do.  the children were smiling brightly as the video began.  the parents seemed somewhat poised and spoke calmly and with conviction.  this family told the story of God's calling them to the adoption of a two year old girl in China.  but what the video didn't show was that just prior to filming the children were aruging over breakfast cereals...the mother was barking orders while in a cleaning frenzy (you just never know what corners they might catch on tape)...the father was attempting to keep peace and wondering when he might be able to get to his saturday "to do" list.  the video didn't show how i pondered deeply over the great issues of my hairstyle and outfit.  the video didn't show how just a few nights prior i was up in the early hours of morning asking...begging... God for greater peace. it didn't mention that sometimes i find myself wondering how in the world we will add one more child into an already ridiculously bustling household.  the video didn't show the moments when i can't catch my breath or feel that icy grip of panic run down my arms.   that family in the video was us. sitting in the balcony at church it was sort of strange watching the six of us up on the screen...larger than life. to be honest, it was a bit unsettling.  i recognized us, but, somehow, it all looked very polished. we are not a polished kind of family.  just like that smooshed squirrel behind us on the road, we have these intensely messy moments in our lives and in this story.  there was not one word we spoke in that taped video which wasn't true.  we meant everything we said.   but we would be remiss if we didn't share how much struggle and challenge and chaos also plays along behind the scenes.  doing a video was easy (well, sort of).   just before they started filming on that saturday morning a month ago, i remember thinking, they will just edit out anything i mess up on...any place i stumble or stutter.  i knew that with just the touch of a button they could easily gloss over any mistakes made or words misspoken.  even as the camera crew was packing up and saying goodbye, matthew, the producer reminded me that he would edit it down to only about 4 to 6 minutes.  they had taken about 25 minutes of tape...certainly there had to be something they could use.
      so in comparison to real life,  video stories are pretty easy.  i'm glad we did it.  we were honored to have a small part in such a powerful message given that morning. we are thrilled God might use our story to bring awareness to the epidemic issues of the lonely.  we did a video and will do whatever it takes to help spread this message of great need.  and because there are always squirrels crossing in front of us, we will be reminded that this is a messy business.  raising our biological children or adopting from china...all of it comes with struggle and challenge and panic.  we can't always press a button and erase the times we blunder terribly. we cannot gloss over much of it.  but, regardless of our mess, God continues to write the story and He continues to walk with us.  He isn't asking us to be perfectly poised or calm or even ready.  He doesn't care one bit about which hairstyle or outfit we choose. He isn't asking for all our ducks (or children, for that matter) to be lined up in straight and strategic rows.  He is only asking us to be willing.  just willing. only willing.

made in china

"made in china," connor read out loud from the backseat.  he had just torn open his dollar store gun and handcuff set. "mom, everything seems to be made in china, doesn't it?" 
"yes buddy," i replied.  "it sure does."
"i kind of like that mom. you know why, mom?"
"no connor, why?"  i asked a little hesitantly.  for a kid who just turned 7 he comes up with some pretty out-of-the-box stuff every now and then, so i could only imagine where he was taking this conversation. of course he didn't disappoint me.
"i like that because every time i read it i think of baby zuzu. and i sure do read that a  whole lot."
i did my best to continue driving as the tears crept to the corners of my eyes. 
"yes, connor, i like that a lot too. i had never thought about it, but your right that is good." 
"yep, it reminds me of her because she's made in china too!" he said cheerfully and with a self-approving chuckle. "and just like all of these things we have that come from china, she'll be here soon."


a plastic, dollar store, gun set.  a toy i somehow got talked into.  a purchase really quite unnecessary. an item which surely will be broken or misplaced within hours.
...but today a conversation which an anxiously waiting mom really needed.

a little behind

so we're a little behind.  i'm used to that.  it seems to be par for my course  - this decade anyway. this running behind should fall well within the rhythm of my normal stride.  but i had one of those mini-panic attacks earlier today when i started thinking about the months still ahead.  yesterday, we (finally, finally, finally) received news that our dossier was on its way to china.  my timeline had it there by january 1st.  february 23rd isn't that far off the mark...but far enough to make me a little crazy when adding up the days.  


i realize full well that i am only seeing part of the picture.  only seeing one section of this grand tapestry God is weaving.  i am limited. oh, so very limited.   my human-ness and my frail-ness and my small-ness have this way of taking control of my emotions.  my shortsighted view sees a family of six that will need to make adjustments to a new sister.  it sees a two year old entering the picture where there hasn't been a two year old for a long time.  the reality of emily graduating from her comfortable, well known elementary school, and preparing for a big, unknown high school  is beginning to hit me lately.  all of a sudden i see five children at five very different stages and i have to wonder where i will find the energy and creativity to pull us all together as a family of seven.  i have this constant battle with time waging inside me.  one part wants desperately to fast forward to the day rick and i will board a plane headed to china. i want to speed up the months which separate us from bella.  i would like to step over them as if they were just a crack in the sidewalk which i need barely acknowledge.  the other part is frantically searching for that elusive pause button on my family.  emily heads off to high school in a matter of months...tyler, sarah elizabeth and connor grow and change before my very eyes.  i just want to yell, "time out everyone!" or "freeze!"  i want to walk around their little figures and memorize their expressions and their height and their width and their youth.  i want to drink in who they are today, at this very moment...because tomorrow it will be different.  


if i have learned one thing in my 14 years of mothering, it is that nothing lasts very long.  we are in a constant flux of seasons and when i blink i am liable to miss years.   it was just a few nights ago when sleep would not come that i got up in the early hours before dawn and went into the rooms of my sleeping children.  i had a sudden and intense longing to see them.  to watch the peace spread over them like a light blanket.  i just wanted to see them in a state of quiet...in a state of rest.  so often i watch them running by me.  running out the door.  running off to practice.  running over to a friend's house.  if my oldest reads this she will, no doubt, be completely freaked out by the admission of my midnight wanderings.  in her book that would not be a tender mother moment, but a creepy stalker acitivity.  anyway, i guess this is so much what motherhood looks like for all of us.  i know i am no different.  i am  not special.  this is the great beauty and this is the great sadness that weave together to create the same picture.  


if i was being honest, i'd tell you there are days when i don't really want to gaze at my children at all.  i, in fact, want them out of my kitchen,  off the couch and altogether out of my hair.  but, then there are those moments when i could weep seeing their independence.  one morning, not too long ago,  i came downstairs to find connor warming up syrup for the waffles he had already toasted.  he was dressed for school. his shoes were on and tied and his snack was in his backpack.  he is six.  should six year olds be warming their own syrup?  i don't know.  part of me loves that.  on many days, i am certainly quite thankful for his resourceful fourth child spirit.  but every now and then i think, "oh no, honey, let mommy do that."  do we ever achieve the perfect balance?  at this point, i am thinking no.  i am thinking we just do what we can with what we have and we stay on our knees. on our knees...always on our knees.


anyway, this post is tending to ramble mightily.  i have somehow moved from a dossier heading to china to a six year old warming his eggo syrup, but i know you understand.  these are the things of which our lives are made. we have big occasions and grand times and we have simple trifles and trivial moments...all of it blends together in this gift we have been given: our lives.   and somehow in this little bit of time here on earth we have to figure out how to soak it in, drink it up and hold it tight.   there will be rare moments when we are out ahead and there will also be many times when we are running little behind.  and this is life.

"show me, o Lord, my life's end and the number of my days;

let me know how fleeting is my life.

 you have made my days a mere

handbreadth;

the span of my years is as nothing before you. 

each man's life is but a breath."

psalm 39:4-5

be mine

i held in my hand a tiny sugared heart. "be mine," it read. it is february and every imaginable surface is littered with hearts. pink ones. red ones. tiny ones. frosted ones. as i clutched this candy in my fist i could think only of one broken heart. the broken heart of baby zuzu in china. we grow closer to her each day.  we have been told our dossier is just about ready to head to china.  we thought it might be there by early january...but we seem to be regularly at least a month behind all of our plans.  i guess it is time to just agree we are moving a month or two faster than the system. at times we feel like greedy and impatient children. we want to rush over to guangzhou city china and rescue this little girl and her sick heart. we want her to, "be mine." we want to stamp our feet and clench our fists and demand she, "be ours!" right now. but there is paperwork to finish and approvals to receive and unruly ducks to get in a line. at times we feel out of control and ridiculously unqualified. our four biological children and our four billion commitments pull  us every which way. we are ill equipped and clearly understaffed. somedays we seem to be wrapped only in our fraility and fear, looking to make a mad dash for the door. but we don't. we don't because this is about something more than us. it is even about something more than our love. it is about God's love. and we are reminded at these moments when we want to demand and insist and panic....we are reminded that she's His. before she will ever be ours, she belongs first to Him. this makes all the difference. it is what makes us bold and determined. it is what brings us peace, and on good days, patience. we know baby zuzu belongs to God and He is the one whispering gently in her ear, be mine. He has kindly invited us along on the journey. for that we are grateful and thankful, if not a little frightened. this morning i sit here with this tiny confection heart in my helpless hand. i am comforted knowing God has promised to hold our little girl in the palm of His big and mighty hand. and this february, whether the hearts are candy or chocolate, tiny or large, healthy or broken, i hear the soft and reassuring whisper of His voice, she's mine.

a mother

this week i have thought often of zuzu's biological mother. i am sure february 5th did not pass by without her remembering the daughter she left alone in a hallway. i am sure there is still much grief and pain involved. i cannot imagine the depth of her brokenness. we may never know why she chose to abandon her 5 month old daughter. it could have been as selfish as the inconvenience of a child or it could have been as selfless as hope for medical care and a brighter future. we don't know for sure, but i would like to believe the latter. she was left wrapped in a blanket with a small note attached. she was left in a hospital corridor, not an alleyway. and though i cannot fathom abandoning a child, i also cannot fathom being penniless in china with a sick child. with little hope for medical care. with little hope in general.  i cannot fathom having no one to help. no place to turn. my heart breaks for this grieving woman. she may no longer hold her daughter, but she holds the scars and the wounds and the guilt. i would imagine she clutches much of that loss tightly to her chest, even today, two years later.
      oh, how i wish i could tell her about this crazy family of six living in alpharetta georgia -on the other side of the world -waiting for her little girl.  i wish i could tell her how we already love her... we already long for her. how we so desperately want her. i wish i could invite her into the rooms we are readying...the place we are preparing.  should she be a guest at our dinner table, she would hear talk of a little girl for whom we wait.  should she observe bedtime in our home, she would surely hear the prayers of four children asking God's protection and healing for a child we call bella.  oh, how i wish to tell her how on that day of abandonment, her little girl was not abandoned.  how she was not alone.  i would share with her my confidence in a Heavenly Father watching over her even in that hallway...especially in that hallway.  His eye was on the sparrow. His eye is on the sparrow...and i know He watches over bella grace.

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,

Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,

When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

I sing because I'm happy,

I sing because I'm free,

For His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me.

“Let not your heart be troubled,' His tender word I hear,

And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;

Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,

When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,

I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

february fifth...

we have this special birthday plate in our house. i made it many years ago for the kids.  the birthday child eats breakfast, lunch and dinner from this handpainted plate. it is quite unremarkable, but the children were all very excited about it when they were younger.  my oldest, emily, turns 14 tomorrow.  i am not sure it holds for her quite the same allure as it once did.  in fact, i am not sure she will eat even one of the three meals at our table tomorrow.  breakfast will most likely be a protein bar on the way out the door. the ritzy school cafeteria will host her birthday lunch.  and i am certain she will opt to eat dinner with the basketball team after her big playoff game.  the birthday plate will sit in its cupboard unattended this year.
there is hope for this ceramic tradition though.  tomorrow is also baby zuzu's birthday.  she turns two.  i am pretty sure she will be excited to eat from the mcnatt family birthday plate someday, but not this year. we thought we'd have her by now....but not yet.  we had dreams of pink party balloons and buttercream frosting.  we had visions of slipping her into a ruffled party dress and tiny buckled shoes.  what joy it will be introducing her to cheerfully wrapped gifts and a cake with her name in pale pink icing. but not this year.  there is much to do about birthdays in our home.  like most things in life, it is probably more about the anticipation than it is about the actual event.  this year for bella i imagine there was no one to build up her expectations or stir up her excitement.  no one to convince her, "this is your day!"   in an orphanage of hundreds of children, can she have her own day? i would think not.  she will wake tomorrow in a room with 35 or so children.  is anyone even aware that tomorrow she turns two?  i almost cannot bear writing that question just now.

last night i fell asleep thinking about the children who have turned two in our home.  emily.  tyler.  sarah elizabeth. connor.  i can remember (for the most part) their second birthdays. if i was honest, i'd have to tell you  things get a little fuzzy with the 3rd and 4th children.  but you get the idea.  they had 2nd birthdays.  they had parties. they had family to sing happy birthday and smother them with birthday kisses and wishes.  they ran in circles of wild delight.  probably not realizing much except that they belonged.  they were special.  they were loved.  it had little to do with the number of presents or party guests. it had much to do with the warmth and joy. they knew innately this was their day.  someday zuzu will dance in our arms and squeal in delight as she celebrates the day she was born. as she celebrates the day she was fearfully and wonderfully made. someday we will celebrate wildly with her.  someday we will sing happy birthday and we will serve her as much cake as any toddler can hold...on the birthday plate of course.

i think it is delightful having two daughters share the same birthday.  what an incredible thing.  i've heard a couple people remark about how that might be "tricky" or "hard"....i have to tell you there is nothing hard about it.  hard is having zuzu still in china on her birthday.  if my 14 year old has to share her day with a new sister at some point, that will only be good for her.  for us.  i gave up worrying about tricky long ago.  most things with a family our size are tricky.  i think it is beautiful that they share this date.  emily and zuzu are 12 years apart.  that is quite a gap.  when zuzu begins 1st grade, emily will begin college.  (i haven't told rick that quite yet).  perhaps this is one tiny added connection for these sisters. emily was zuzu's biggest advocate right from the start....before she new that they shared a birthday, in fact.  when we talked about the doctor's warning that she might not have a full, long or healthy life, emily was the first one to speak up and insist, "then that is all the more reason she needs to have a mom and a dad right now....even if it is only for a while....everyone deserves a mom and dad."  she put it in such simple terms.  rick and i could not begin to argue.  she was right.  it was all the more reason we needed to begin this journey.  emily has heard me tell that story several times this year, but i am not sure she is completely aware of the conviction behind her words.  children rarely know the depths they are capable of touching in their parents.  i suppose in some ways this is a good thing.

so tomorrow we will celebrate emily.  we will celebrate 14 years with a daughter who brings us incredible joy. we will celebrate a daughter we grow to love more each day.   but this celebration will be laced with some sense of the bittersweet.  though we cannot include bella in our birthday celebration today, we will celebrate because of her.  we will celebrate that God has placed our family on a journey toward her. there will come a day when she will be placed into our arms, just as our four other children were on the day of their births. that day is coming.  we imagine it.  we dream of it.  we sometimes even fear it.  that day we may not have any balloons or buttercream frosting on hand,  but we will have bella in our arms...and it will be a grand celebration....a true birthday party.

an ordinary day

dear bella ~  today is an ordinary day.  it is one of those mid-january days filled with quiet and cold.   i did have to get up early, pack a few lunches, check a few backpacks and shuffle four tired kids out the door, but that is most days.  that is my normal... my ordinary. but now it is quiet and i am home this morning with nothing pressing on my list,  nothing exciting on my calendar,  and nothing exceptional in my day.  i have been sitting here with my coffee and my dog and my morning and i have been thinking about you.  i just wanted you to know that.  i wanted you to know how somedays my first thoughts are of you.  often as i wake in the morning, i think of you preparing for bedtime in china.  i pray that you are wearing a warm, comfy sleeper.  i pray that you are cuddled up with a soft blanket and listening to the soothing sounds of nighttime.  i kind of doubt this is the case, but i pray that for you.   i want you to know i would pretty much do anything to skip over to china and be the woman who rubs your back or smooths your hair as you drift off.   when it is my turn to close my tired eyes, i often consider what you might be doing 13 hours ahead of us.  you are usually close to lunch time in your day.  there is this wee bit of comfort in knowing that.  i imagine your days in the orphanage are often rather ordinary days.  i'm fairly certain they aren't days filled with pony rides or ice cream cones or visits to the circus.  i really know so little about orphanages and exactly what happens in the course of the day. perhaps that is in some way a blessing.  a few nights ago your sisters, emily and sarah, and i sat on their beds and talked about what we thought your day was like.   we tried...but none of us really had much of an idea.  our talk quickly shifted to what it might be like when you are finally in our home. under our roof.  in our arms.  that was easier subject material.  that was something we could put colors and scents and textures to.  our heads were immediately filled with thoughts of small buckled shoes and smocked dresses and baby doll strollers.  we could hear your quiet voice and maybe even your loud cries.  we could smell the fresh, soft scent of your hair after a bath and could feel your chubby hand in our own.  the joy of your giggle and the delight in your laughter are something for which we already long.  emily - your very oldest sister - made me promise we would dress you in only the cutest of clothes. she said specifically,  "none of these hand-me-down things, mom!"...not for our precious baby sister.  i fear you will be treated like a queen.  oh my!  i know i should immediately begin combatting that mindset...but i won't.  i can't.   i have this hunch you just might have two older sisters and two older brothers at your majesty's beck and call within a short time of making your entrance.  i won't let you run-a-muck with this, mind you, but i suspect i won't be able to fully halt or mask my secret delight in watching you rule your older and obedient subjects. oh yes, we shall see...someday.
someday i will walk through the door of your orphanage. someday i will stand in the very room in which you tonight sleep.  someday i will see where you have spent almost 2 years of your life.  i will know more then. the walls might not talk, but they will show signs of the life you have lead.  on that someday i will be the strange lady who holds you in her arms and carries you out of that orphanage door.  i will be the woman who will walk you into the china sunshine.  i will take you to a park and place you in a swing.   i will sit with you and watch birds or bumble bees or butterflies. i will gladly and eagerly watch you.  i hope that even on that first day we might smile together.  i wish i could send this letter ahead - an introduction of sorts.  i wish i could announce our visit well before whisking you away from all that you know.  it will be hard.  i have dreamt a few times about what "gotcha day" will look like for us.  trying to prepare myself, i envision you crying, maybe screaming...clinging to the one who brings you to us.  i see fear in your eyes and resistance in your body.  i allow myself to see this because i know it might very well look like that.  anything less will be better.  we will take you any way you come to us that morning. when you can't hold fast to us, we will hold fast to you.  we might even at some point feel like darting out the door in our fraility and fear.  but we won't.   i want to tell you that right now.  we won't. being abandoned once is one too many times for any child.  along the paperwork road we had to submit a letter of application to china.  we received specific instruction on what needed to be written.  one phrase that we had to copy and include was, "we promise to not abandon or abuse this child."   that is all they wanted us to say on the subject.  i found that phrase sorely lacking.  completely insufficient. utterly inept. my wordy self was prepared to write a paragraph, an essay, even a treatise on the fact that we would not abandon or neglect.  i could have written song lyrics and poetry and at least two term papers on our promise. instead, today, i will write this letter.  this letter which no chinese official requires or will ever read.  this letter which you will not read anytime soon.  this letter which i wish to send ahead, but know that instead it must stay and wait for you.  perhaps someday you will have the chance to read some of my words and know how much you were loved even before you arrived.  i would like you to know that...someday.  but today, well, this is just an ordinary day.  i am planning ordinary things. but in the midst of my normal-everyday-stuff, i will think of you.  i will think about how God is working to place you in our home. how He goes before you and how He will come behind us.  a year ago i had no idea we might be anticipating a little girl from china.  a baby sister.  a toddler. a third daughter. a fifth child.  another heart to love. another hand to hold.  another gift to treasure.  and all i can think of on this very ordinary day is ...how very extraordinary.
                                                                                                                  ~  with love, your mom

grand prize winners

i can't promise it is always pleasant to be the recipient of a letter from the United States government.  even if we are anticipating good news the mad dance of butterflies can be felt in our stomach while slicing into the envelope.  similar to when we were beckoned to the principal's office as  middle schoolers.  depending on the colorfulness of our prepubescent years, we may or may not have been able to come up with one offense, but boy did our minds work overtime trying to recall every possible misstep.  through my school years, i was called to mr. borchart's office many times.  only on one or two occasions (if i remember correctly) was it for trouble.  but there was never a time, however, when the mere summons didn't cause some serious nerve racking rumbling and tumbling.  it was about authority. it was about power.  mr. borchart had a firm handle on both.  he had the authority and the power to bring good or bad to my world and there was very little i could do about it...(or so i thought).
this was very much how i felt tearing into our letter from the US government this afternoon.  it was the letter we had been anticipating.  we expected it would hold good news of our immigration approval.  but, there was alway that chance...  that chance we could have messed up.  failed to submit something.  neglected to sign in the correct color ink on the correct line. we had checked our paperwork and rechecked and then rechecked again.   i am a firm believer, however, in operator error.  i like a little wiggle room when i am at task.  i knew early on i was much better suited for a career in horsehoes than one in neuro-surgery.  i could get credit for being close in horseshoes...not so much with brain surgery.  i am especially grateful, however, that we are not all created in this same way.  i really do prefer my airplane pilot and my varicose vein surgeon to have a great love of precision and accuracy. in fact, i count on it.  one of my favorite math concepts, perhaps my only favorite math concept, was rounding or approximating.  i loved that.  "678 is about 700."  that worked great for me.  it works for me even today.  when rick asks me what i spent at target...i just use that favorite math concept and round (down).  it's quite a lovely tool.  he caught on to that trick years ago, though, and now knows that if i say this new lamp cost about $60 ...it was most likely $69 dollars.   as a teacher, i seemed  never to be able to pass out the correct number of papers per row to my students.  i never worried if there were exactly 11 sheets for 11 students.  i realize that sounds quite sloppy.  it reeks of inexactitude.  it drove some of my more analytical students crazy.  but in the middle of discussing macbeth, i would smile sweetly and respond, "this is english class, not math class."  i did try to be a little more careful when averaging their grades come semester's end.  i tried.
so as you can see, i had reason to doubt the content of this letter.  i was also pretty sure that if something had to be redone or resubmitted for the US government  it wasn't going to be a timely thing.  i had no illusions that they would hurry up something for someone that had already messed up.  so, it was with some slightly shaky fingers that i slit the envelope. i carefully unfolded the document and scanned it repeatedly.  it took me about a half hour to decide if it was good or bad news.  seriously.  remember this is a government issued notice.  we receive publisher's clearance house notifications all the time announcing us to be the grand prize winner....the next millionaire!  the bold, glittery, enormous words jump out at us as soon as the paper is extracted from it fold.  those exuberant announcements come printed on slick textured and multi-colored paper...with stickers and holograms and our own names emblazoned upon them: Jody McNatt - you're a winner!  you've won! we've won and we didn't even know we had entered anything to win. crazy. 
so there i sat with my 100% bona-fide-government-official and serious-looking document.  small print. evenly spaced and seriously sedate.  all black and white no nonsense. lots and lots of words and numbers and codes.  i scanned and rescanned the notice attempting to find one phrase that announced us to be winners.  and there it finally was:

You have been approved to adopt one child from the following Convention country: China.

one line in the middle of the paper. one line in a sea of unintelligible government-ese.  i caught my breath.  standing in my kitchen i said out loud,  "this is good. i think this is good." and it was. it was only one more step in a long process.  we are certainly not done.  there is more to do and more approval to anticipate. but at least for today, we won! we have been approved.  we aren't going to be millionaires...but we certainly do feel like grand prize winners.