Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

"Aurora Leigh" - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I must admit that I am guilty of plucking blackberries. I love when the sweet fruits of life are easy to come by. I especially love when there is no extra energy required to partake of the sweet fruits.

Just hold out your hand and you will be content.

The problem with living for my own benefit is when I look at lifes opportunities and only consider how they will affect me. How will this make me look? What will people think of me? Do I have to give up my comfort for someone else? Because, from my selfish point of view, if it isn't going to benefit me, then what purpose does it serve?

Then one day, figuratively speaking, Adam and I see a burning bush (halleluja!), and it took our eyes off of ourselves. We became aware of something bigger than us, something with purpose, and God allowed us to be a part of it (halleluja!).

I erred, though, in thinking that because we were being faithful in taking this journey that God has called us to take, the path would be easy and there would be a lot of blackberries to pick along the way.

I was wrong.

I didn't anticipate that the little girl God picked for us would have special needs. It never crossed my mind, and yet, I look at her and see a child who is full of life and deserves a chance to live it.

I see the face of the daughter God placed on my heart 13 years ago, and her smile that lights up a room.

I see determination in her eyes and the joy she brings to her caregivers faces.

But most of all, I see God's hand in this miracle, and the fulfillment in our lives, and I can't say no to that.

The night before we came home, Adam and I talked a lot about L, her diagnosis and what that could mean for our family if we continued with the adoption. We wondered what people would say about our choice to adopt and why. Then the thought occurred to me, are we living for the opinions of others, or the will of God? Because, if we are living for God, then I will not be content plucking blackberries. It's time to take our shoes off and glorify Him (halleluja!).

Wow! That was a whirlwind trip.

It has taken us several days to process our thoughts, and even at that, I don't think we have had a chance to take it all in. Since arriving in Boise late Monday night, we have each had appointments with our doctors, we have been re-fingerprinted for our I-600A clearance, and in a separate appointment, we have been fingerprinted for our local state police clearances as well. Thrown into the mix of all that craziness is our mad scramble to get ready for Christmas. We intentionally keep Christmas simple in our house so that we don't lose sight of the true meaning of this season, but there is still food to prepare, gifts to wrap and children that get out of bed way too early.

I guess the saying "there is no rest for the weary" is fitting for us right now. But I'm okay with that, because God is faithful even when we are weary.

This trip was exhausting emotionally, physically and mentally and yet, at the same time, God was very prevalent as we struggled with some very tough emotions.

As I take a moment to gather the discombobulated thoughts that are swirling through my head, I struggle to know where exactly to begin. I suppose though, that the most profound thing that happened occurred on our flight to Amsterdam, and so I will start there as it set into place the tone for our trip, and the trust required in knowing that God is in control.


As I was finishing packing my bags the night before leaving for Russia, I realized that I didn't have a book to bring along with me. There was a small book sitting on my nightstand that I had nearly completed, and knew that it wouldn't hold me over until we returned the following week. For this reason, I had every intention of running to the bookstore on Tuesday morning, but in the midst of packing and making sure everything was taken care of at home, I lost track of time.

Realizing, as we were on our way to the airport, that I forgot the get a book, I asked if we could make a quick stop at the book store. I spent about 5 minutes searching the bookshelves for something that would stand out, as I didn't have a specific book in mind, just something interesting enough that would keep me from staring mindlessly at the seat back and tray table in front of me.

I glanced at books by familiar Christian authors; Philip Yancey, Max Lucado and Charles Colson, but didn't see anything that piqued my interest. Then I remembered a conversation my dad and I were having about Ravi Zacharias the night before, and decided to search for his name among the shelves. We pulled out a few of his books and after looking at them, I decided on his book called Jesus Among Other Gods.

During our eight hour flight to Amsterdam I decided to pull out the book and read a few pages before beginning my in flight movie, but it drew me in and I couldn't put it down until reading about Ravi's visit to a place in India where beautiful wedding saris are made. Here is an excerpt:

The Pattern Unfolds
I would like to share how a purposeful design emerges when God weaves a pattern from what, to us, may often seem disparate threads.
Some years ago, I was visiting a place where some of the most beautiful wedding saris are made. The sari, of course, is the garment worn by Indian women. It is usually six yards long. Wedding saris are a work of art; they are rich in gold and silver threads, resplendent with an array of colors.
The place I was visiting was known for making the best wedding saris in the world. I expected to see some elaborate system of machines and designs that would boggle the mind. Not so! Each sari was being made individually by a father-and-son team. The father sat above on a platform two to three feet higher than the son, surrounded by several spools of thread, some dark, some shining. The son did just one thing. At the nod from his father, he would move the shuttle from one side to the other and back again. The father would gather some threads in his fingers, nod once more, and the son would move the shuttle again. This would be repeated for hundreds of hours, till you would begin to see a magnificent pattern emerging.
The son had the easy task-just to move at the father's nod. All along, the father had the design in his mind and brought the right threads together.

Ravi Zacharias - Jesus Among Other Gods

After reading this, I had to put the book down and digest this truth. You see, God is weaving a pattern in each of our lives, but in order to complete the pattern - in order to make it beautiful - we must move when He says move.

Even if the pattern, from our limited perspective, doesn't always seem to make sense.

I didn't realize it at the time, but this book was meant for me (and Adam) for this very moment in our lives. For this I am grateful, because our all knowing God knew the struggles we were going to have as we traveled half-way around the world to meet the little girl He hand picked for our family. A little girl who is not perfect in the worlds eyes, but who has immeasurable value as a child of the King.

I can't begin to tell you how excited we are to see the pattern unfold as God weaves our lives and the life of our daughter together. Until then, we will dwell on this truth:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:11

Blessings,
Anna

We will be leaving for Moscow tonight, but before we do, we will visit L one last time. We are very thankful that the baby home director has allowed us to visit both Saturday and Sunday, as we have been given an extra four priceless hours of playing and bonding with L.

She is such a bright little girl. As we handed her back to her caregiver yesterday, L looked at us and started to cry a little bit. It was clear that she wanted to stay with us, and as we walked out of the room, L turned her head to follow us, and we were told that she understands what is going on.

I don't really know how to describe the strange mix of emotions that I (and Adam) am feeling. On one hand, I want to stay here and continue to visit L until we take her home. She has come a long way, developmentally, in the just three days that we have spent with her, and I don't like the thought of her losing that while we are gone. On the other hand, I want to get home so our paperwork can be completed and a court date can be set.

Oh, and I really miss Isaiah and Caleb. If there is one thing about me that you should know, it's that I am a homebody. I love to be with my family, and in my house and in my own bed. These things make everything right in my world, and when they aren't there, it's like my life is out of whack....this is especially prevalent when the bed in my hotel room is rock hard.

That being said, I am sad to leave L here, but am excited to head home. Besides, I don't think I can handle the driving here any longer. I am pretty sure that our taxi driver had a little too much vodka yesterday because he drove into a snow bank here and there, drove into oncoming traffic twice, then did a five point turn in the middle of a busy intersection. I also think the lack of sleep, food and high stress of the past week have made me a little delirious. I say this because, after sliding to a stop and coming within inches of hitting a man crossing the road, our WACAP representative, who happened to be in the taxi with us at the time, said in her strong Russian accent, "Our driver is a little strange today." Our driver, or course, didn't speak any English, and so he had no clue what was just said. I, on the other hand, got the giggles and could not stop laughing.

Oh well. Such is life in a different culture.

More on these things later...like when I have slept a little bit and can actually put an intelligent thought together in my head.

Anna

**Let me just start of by saying that because of confidentiality, I am not able to give out our little girls name. However, I will refer to her as L, to give her some sense of identity without going against the wishes of the Russian government.**

We have been in Russia for 24 hours, and are just now starting to feel normal. We arrived in Novosibirsk at 5:30 am on Thursday morning, where we were picked up by the WACAP staff and taken to Hotel Sibir, where we will stay for the remainder of our trip.

We arrived at the hotel with enough time to take a much needed shower and then rest for about an hour before we needed to meet Anna, our WACAP representative in Russia, who would take us to our appointment with the Department of Education.

After a short meeting with the Department of Education, we were granted official permission to visit the baby home where L is living.

After a few minutes of waiting impatiently, a very happy little girl, with a big smile, was brought in to us. In the referral we were told that she loves people, and it was obvious by the way she eagerly came to us. After a few minutes of visiting with her, we had a chance to speak with the head pediatrician at the baby home, who gave us more medical information about L.

After speaking with the head pediatrician, we were able to spend the remaining hour and a half with L, where we got to see her play with toys, crawl and interact with us. It is very clear that she is loved and well taken care of. This has been our prayer since we started this adoption.

We will be heading to the baby home to visit with L this afternoon. We were also told by the baby home director that we are welcome to come on Saturday as well. This is good news as they don't normally allow visitors on the weekends.

We were hoping to do some sightseeing around Novosibirsk in between visits to the baby home, but it is currently -12 degrees F, so we are going to stay inside and get some much needed rest.

The funny thing is, we are not as concerned about the weather as we are about the driving. We have yet to see a crosswalk. Instead, people just walk into the middle of the road, regardless of cars that are careening toward them. Add to that the fact that there are no lines in the road, and it becomes obvious that transporting ones self in Russia is really just a free-for-all. For this reason, I recommend 2 things:

* Don't look out the window while being driven around Novosibirsk. It does nothing but induce IBS.
* Russians approach a dinner buffet with the same amount of aggression as they use while driving. Be sure to hold on to your dinner plate, because things can get ugly.

More to come later!
Anna

It turns out that preparing to go to Russia on 7 days notice really does a number on ones stomach...not to mention checkbook.

Luckily, some of that stress has been eased by the fantastic folks at Rainier World Travel, who were able to process our visas and book our flights with amazing speed.

We will be heading to Russia this coming Tuesday, but won't actually arrive in Novosibirsk until Thursday morning. As soon as we arrive, we will be driven to our hotel where we will have an hour or two to freshen up (I'm pretty sure we'll need it at that point), and then we will meet with the Department of Education where we will receive our official invitation to see our little girl.

At some point on Thursday afternoon, we will head to the baby home and meet her. We have been told that we will spend anywhere between 40 minutes to 2 hours with her that first day, so we need to be flexible.

I would imagine that after visiting with her, we will then head back to the hotel and crash.

We are guaranteed one visit with her on Friday, but there is a possibility of two visits. This, of course, is dependent on the decision of the baby home director, as they don't like to disrupt the children's schedules too much.

While it is not common practice to allow visitation on weekends, there is also a possibility that we will be granted a short visit with her on Saturday.

We will leave Novosibirsk on Sunday evening, spend the night in Moscow, and then get catch a flight early Monday morning to head home. Assuming all flights go as planned, we will arrive in Boise Monday evening.

And just an FYI - As much as I wish otherwise, we are not allowed to give any information about our little girl until the adoption has been completed. For this reason, we won't be able to share her name or pictures while on this trip. We will, however, do our best to keep you informed on our experience while visiting her, so feel free to check in from time to time.

If you don't hear from me between now and next week, I will catch you on the flip-side...and I mean that quite literally!

I don't know how Isaiah got a hold of that elderly persons walker.

For what it's worth...
I am choosing to ignore it because it didn't happen on my property.

For what it's worth...
If you hear of someone missing a walker, don't blame me.

For what it's worth...
I didn't know, when I woke up this morning, that my life would never be the same again.

For what it's worth...
I didn't know, when I ignored the ringing telephone, that it would be our case manager calling to tell us some exciting news!

For what it's worth...
I didn't know that mixing a 16 oz. mocha, a large slice of chocolate cream pie and news that we have received a referral would give me an adrenaline rush never before experienced on the face of this earth.

For what it's worth...
I'm not telling you why I was drinking a mocha and eating a slice of chocolate cream pie at the same time.

For what it's worth...
I don't recommend doing that.

For what it's worth...
We are leaving for Russia in exactly 1 week.

For what it's worth...
Our daughter is beautiful!

For what it's worth...
I am a little stressed out...you know, in a green apple two-step kinda way.

For what it's worth...
I get teary-eyed just thinking about being away from my boys for a week.

For what it's worth...
God placed a picture of our daughter on my heart, and when I saw her photo today, it matched my hearts description.

For what it's worth...
God is good!

For what it's worth...
It's all worth it!

You will have to give me three of your hard earned dollars for dumping the bottle of bath soap in the tub, even though it means that you won't have enough money left over to buy that toy you have been saving for.

I will play Candyland for the fifth time - even though the dirty clothes have taken over the laundry room and dirty dishes are piled in the sink - because you are worth it.

I will not shelter you from every painful experience, because I know that with those experiences comes the opportunity to gain wisdom.



I will have tickle wars and wrestling matches with you even when I'm tired.

There will be consequences for your actions, even though I don't enjoy it.



I will throw the football with you when the wind is blowing and it's 28 degrees outside - even if it's only for 5 minutes.

I will smile when you come out of your room wearing mismatched clothes and floppy cowboy boots that are two sizes too big, because I know that you feel good about yourself.



I will say 'no' even though it saddens me to do it, because contrary to what you believe about me at that moment, I really do want what's best for you.

I know you won't fully understand this concept until you grow up and have children of your own. But I know that when that day comes, you will understand that it was all...


Because I love you.

The devil inhabited my shopping cart this morning.

I should have known better when I walked into the grocery store and saw the cart, sitting by it’s lonesome - the reject of the shopping cart world - that it was there for good reason.

The problem is, I’m a sucker for the little guy, or, as in this case, the lonely cart. So I took pity on it, and as I carefully grabbed hold of the handle, pushing it back and forth to check for any unruly loose wheels, I was surprised to find that this cart behaved remarkably well. Then thinking to myself, “why on earth would anyone reject such a wonderful shopping cart”, I headed into the store.

I had experienced a good three minutes of shopping cart bliss, when I stupidly placed a ten pound bag of Russet potatoes onto the bottom rack of the cart. In a matter of seconds, my whole shopping trip turned sour. One wheel started squeaking mercilessly, another wheel stopped turning completely, causing it to drag and vibrate against the floor, and the other two wheels headed toward the cottage cheese.

It was unreal.

But I wasn’t about to let this cart get the best of me. I continued my struggle with the cart of death, pulling hard with my right arm and pushing with my left to keep it going straight. I knocked over 2 cans of cream of chicken soup in aisle 3, a canister of Columbia House coffee in aisle 7 and Scrubbing Bubbles Shower Cleaner in aisle 13, before making it to the check out stand.

Just when I thought the worst was behind me, I wheeled my fully loaded, demon possessed cart into the icy parking lot, where I quickly lost all control. My feet were sliding in one direction and the cart wheels in another. Add to that the sounds of my grunting and the squeaking and skidding of the cart and you can imagine the spectacle I was creating.

I finally made it to my car and unloaded my groceries into the trunk. As I shoved the cart into the cart return in the parking lot, I mustered the courage to speak the only words that came to mind, for fear of this cart finding me in the future.

“Good riddance!”

When I was growing up we had a coffee mug that my dad would pull out whenever one of his kids had an especially difficult day. It was not the most beautiful mug by any stretch of the imagination - it was just a white ceramic mug - but written on the front of the mug, with tiny black letters packed full of wisdom, it read:

Don't let the turkeys get you down

For whatever reason, this mug seemed to make our current frustrations a little less...well, frustrating. Maybe it's because of the way those ridiculous cartoon turkeys, with their outstretched wings, wide-eyed stares and exaggerated poses, seemed to dance across the mug, making complete fools of themselves. But I suspect that the uplift in my spirit had less to do with silly, dancing turkeys, and more to do with the perspective those words gave.

Life is full of turkeys. They come in the form of difficult people, unexpected bills, broken washing machines, wrinkled shirts and sour milk. They have a tendency to peck at us at the most inconvenient of times, leaving us feeling frustrated, angry and bitter. Once we get to that point, once the turkeys get us down, we have a hard time seeing the good in life. We begin to dwell on the stuff that we don't have, from the lack of money in our bank accounts to the torn jeans in our closet, and we become ungrateful for the things that we have been blessed with.

Family and Friends.

Healthy Children.

Food to eat.

Shelter.

Clothes to wear. By the way, have you noticed that people will actually pay a lot of money for shredded jeans these days? I never knew that, after three years of wear and tear, my jeans would be fashionable today. Now I don't have to buy new ones!

Having a heart of gratitude changes our whole perspective. We become compassionate toward the hurting, suffering and poverty stricken. We begin to see that success in life is not about having the most money or being the most popular or even well-liked person. Instead, we view success as having the courage to go without the latest and greatest, in order to lift up the people who are considered the least among us, who have been beaten down by the turkeys, and who, through their poverty, can no longer stand up on their own.

I can't think of a better way to show the Lord how grateful we are for His provision, than to give it away.

May our hearts be transformed this Thanksgiving Day, as we put aside the stress of the pending Christmas season, and instead give thanks as we dwell on Philippians 4:6-8.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things.

Have a beautiful Thanksgiving,
Anna

Take a good look at this picture and tell me what you see.



Let's just state the obvious: it's a Starbucks coffee in the traditional Starbucks Christmas cup.

Don't be fooled though. There is more to this cup than just the nagging reminder that I need to start making my list and checking it twice. No, this coffee cup is significant for two reasons. The first reason being that I just discovered the Caramel Brulee Latte at Starbucks, and it has taken over my life. I dream about it in my sleep, and drool down my shirt like an infant cutting it's first tooth, whenever I drive past a coffee shop.

I can't help myself. I seem to have lost what little control I had.

But that's okay, because it brings me to my second - and most important - significant reason for this cup of coffee. It was free!

My taste buds got the best of me on Thursday afternoon, so I decided to make a quick run to Starbucks. As I pulled up to pay for my coffee, the barista leaned out the window, and with my Caramel Brulee coffee in her hands she said, "enjoy your free cup of coffee." Then noting the confused look on my face she continued, "the woman in front of you wanted to buy you a coffee and pay it forward."

That has never happened to me before, but I have to admit that as a result of this woman's kindness, my whole world lit up.

So to the woman who paid for my coffee, I want to say a huge thank you! You really made my day.

And to those of you who are reading this blog today, I want to challenge you to pay if forward too. The next time you find yourself in a drive thru, pay for the person in line behind you, and make a difference in their life.

After all, a little kindness goes a long way.

Do you ever have those weeks where you think, "I'm glad that I got that over with."? The last time I remember having one of those moments was when Caleb was one week old. It was the middle of the night, I just finished feeding Caleb, and was still holding him in my arms when I felt a pain that I have never felt before. And believe me, I know what pain feels like. I had just given birth to a couch..I mean Caleb...one week prior. It was still fresh in my mind. But this pain was different. It was foreign. And I was sure that I was dying.

I woke Adam up at 1:00 am with the only words I could muster: I've. Got. Pain. Then we rushed to the emergency room, and after a series of tests, found out that I wasn't really dying, I just had a kidney stone.

I didn't see any humor in this experience at the time. In fact, I still don't. But as we drove away from the hospital three hours later, I looked at Adam and said, "I suppose that if I was going to have a kidney stone, I'm glad that it's over and done with now, and not waiting to happen next Tuesday or something." And then he agreed with me and said "yeah, it's nice to have that behind us."

Behind us.

That is exactly where I would like this adoption to be, because the truth is, I'm tired. I'm tired of the paperwork. I'm tired of the constant changes in Novosibirsk. I'm tired of living in limbo and I'm tired of waiting. But regardless of how tired I am, I still have to redo two documents that were returned to me because the judges won't accept it. And regardless of how much I wish it could all have been dealt with last week so that I wouldn't have to face it today, I have been warned of more changes to come in Novosibirsk.

If you would have asked me a year ago where I thought we would be today, I would have said that we would be done, our daughter would be here, and this whole adoption process would be behind us. And yet, one year later, instead of it being behind us, we are smack dab in the middle of it, and I have grown weary.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that it's not necessarily the paperwork or the constant change that is wearing on me, but that our daughter is there alone and desperately in need of her family and there isn't a darn thing I can do about it.

Except cry. I have a tendency to do that whenever I feel overwhelmed.

I sat in the backyard the other night while the wind blew cold against the tears on my face, and I cried. I cried because of the paperwork, change and overall frustration but I sobbed when I thought of our little girl sitting alone and afraid. Desperate for the love that only her parent's can give.

And then I was reminded that we have been given the opportunity to take part in God's miracle, and even though it's oftentimes messy, hard or downright exhausting, He won't let us fall. It's at those times when we think we can't take another step that He shows Himself faithful, and it's in that revealing moment that we know we would do it all over again. Because it's worth it. He's worth it.

I can't begin to tell you how excited I am to see this miracle come to fruition. What a beautiful day it will be when we can look back and say, "It's behind us! We did it!" But until that day comes, whether it's this Tuesday or ten Tuesdays from now, and regardless of my circumstances, I will praise Him.

Amen.

I have acquired a third child. It happened at some point between the birth of Caleb and Isaiah’s first day of Kindergarten. In my defense, it didn’t happen overnight, which is why I didn’t catch it when this child first started making his presence known. But after several years of blaming others for unclaimed messes, a slow realization finally occurred to me; There are more than four of us living in this house.

I took some time to process this realization, on account of, I was feeling slightly unsettled. But more importantly, I wasn’t sure how Adam would react to this news. After a few weeks of trying to deal with this elusive child by myself though, I decided it was time to speak up.

“I think another child has moved into the house, and goes by the name of It wasn’t me.”

“Why do you think that?”

“For starters, food has been disappearing at unprecedented rates. Just the other day I noticed two boxes of cracker’s, a entire package of string cheese, six apples and a pork tenderloin had gone missing. When I asked who ate all the food, the boys both said It wasn’t me."

“Oh, I see.”

“And it gets even worse. This morning I stepped in a puddle at the base of the toilet. Disgusted, I yelled, WHO KEEPS MISSING THE TOILET? And guess what? They blamed it on It wasn’t me again.”

“Well, did you talk to It wasn't me about it?”

“That’s the problem. I have yet to see him in person. All I have to go by is the evidence that he was here. His dirty clothes are constantly laying beside the hamper, the toilet paper roll is always empty and I have yet to walk through the house without stepping on the Lego’s he leaves on the floor.”

A few days later, Adam came home from work and said, “I think you are right about it wasn’t me. He drove the car until the gas light came on, and didn’t even bother to fill it back up. By the time I realized what was going on, and arrived at the gas station, I was coasting on fumes. I have had it with It wasn't me. He is getting out of hand.”

This video is worth five minutes of your time.

Take a moment to watch it.



What are your thoughts?

I never cared much for hummus. Maybe it's because the only hummus I had ever eaten was the prepackaged kind you buy at the grocery store, which did nothing but leave me with a bad taste in my mouth. As a result, I only had one word to describe this middle eastern cuisine...blech!

I held that belief until earlier this summer when my mother in law brought out her homemade hummus, and insisted that I try some. Okay, she didn't really insist (she isn't a demanding person), but she did say it was really, really good. And because I like good food, I couldn't possibly resist her offer.

Boy was I glad I tried it. This stuff is so good that I have constant cravings for it. Luckily, she happily gave me the recipe so I can make it on my own now. And I do. Quite often.

And because I don't necessarily like to keep a good thing to myself, I am going to share it with you. (Don't worry, she won't mind).

Roasted Pepper Hummus

1 Can Chickpeas drained. Reserve liquid if hummus needs thinned.
1/3 Cup Tahini
1/4 Cup Lemon Juice
2 Garlic Cloves
2 Tbsp. Olive Oil
1/2 - 3/4 Cup Roasted Pepper
1/2 - 1 Cup Cilantro

*In place of cilantro or peppers, you can add Zucchini or olives. It's a pretty forgiving recipe, so feel free to experiment.

Throw all ingredients into a food processor. Like this:



And process until it looks like this:



Serve it with pita chips, fresh vegetables or whatever you prefer.

Here are four, make that five, things that I have learned about boys.

They are always serious. So don't even try to break them of this habit.


Their clothes must match at all times. Don't even think of sending them outside in mismatched clothes.


If danger is present, they will run far away from it. They have no need for risk taking behavior.


They are constantly concerned about what others think of them.



And they are always dignified. Always.


And, of course, mothers of boys would never encourage this type of behavior by cheering them on and taking pictures.

Never.

It would be considered undignified.

This is my favorite picture in the entire world. It was taken three years ago by my father-in-law, while we were visiting the Singapore Zoo.

Just look at Caleb's face. He's hot stuff and he knows it.

And look at the boys in the background. I bet they're thinking one word: Lucky!
(If you say it like Napolean Dynamite it's even funnier).

This picture is indicative of what it was like to walk around Singapore with a blond haired, blue eyed, chubby bodied baby boy. (I dare you to say that ten times fast). I can't even begin to count how many times complete strangers would ask if they could take a picture of themselves holding Caleb. And I, of course, being the responsible parent that I am, would happily hand him over.

I couldn't help myself. I was just as taken by the beautiful people around me, as they were by Caleb. How could I say no to that?

While visiting the Jurong Bird Park one afternoon, an Indian man wearing a turban pushed through a group of 30 or so tourists, and as he ran toward us, flailing his arms as though he was parting the Red Sea, he said, "Oh look at the beautiful boy. I must give him a kiss!" And after kissing Caleb's cheek and playing with his chubby hands, Caleb, who was used to this kind of attention by now, returned the affection by smiling his dimply cheeked smile, as the man stumbled back into the mob of tourists from which he came.

I don't know why, but Caleb has that affect on most people.

Of course not everyone was quite so bold in their attempt to meet Caleb. There was one ridiculously funny moment when Adam and I became aware of a Japanese man cautiously, and rather uncomfortably (if I do say so myself), side-stepping his way over to where Caleb was playing. At first Adam and I were alarmed, but then we realized that standing about 40 feet away was another person holding a camera and motioning for the posing man to scoot closer. But before we could tell him that we didn't mind if he wanted to take a picture with Caleb, he leaned down and smiled, the camera clicked and then he left, just as strangely as he came.

And now I can't help but wonder: What has become of those pictures?

Luke 5:1-7
On one occasion, while the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he was standing by the lake of Gennasaret, and he saw two boats by the lake, but the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. Getting into one of the boats, which was Simon’s, he asked him to put out a little from the land. And he sat down and taught the people from the boat. And when he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” And Simon answered, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” And when they had done this, they enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking. They signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink.

Sometimes I wish that I could have been a fly on the hills of the Galilean countryside, watching Jesus perform miracles, and seeing lives indelibly changed because of the extraordinary power that He possessed.

I tend to think that Simon was one lucky guy. Seriously! Can you imagine what must have been going through his head when, after fishing all night and coming back to shore empty handed, Jesus hops into the boat, tells Simon to throw his nets back in the water, and suddenly they are overflowing with fish?

We get a pretty good idea of the impact this miracle had on Peter, because shortly after coming to shore, he literally left his boat and livelihood on the shore of the lake of Gennasaret, and followed Jesus.

But the thing that strikes me about Simon is not that he got to be a part of a miracle, but rather that the miracle happened because he chose to have faith in Jesus by throwing his nets into the water, when all the evidence proved otherwise. And that experience changed the course of his life.

It was because of Simon’s faith in action that he got to be a part of the miracle.

It was because of Simon's faith in action that he got to take part in the work that Jesus was doing.

And the truth is, we don’t have to be a fly on that hillside two thousand years ago in order to watch the miracle, because watching a miracle is all we would be doing. Instead, God has called us to participate in the miracle by letting down our nets, and it is through that action that we experience Christ.

Did you know that we have been on the waiting list for a child referral for, oh...367 days now? It's true. Tuesday marked our one year anniversary. And let me be the first to tell you that it was not celebrated with cake and balloons.

Don't get me wrong. Waiting has not been a problem. In fact, it's been really good for us. We have grown in our walk with the Lord and learned to put our full trust in Him, and as a result, we have seen Him provide in ways we never thought possible.

My problem is that the date of this anniversary also marks the expiration of the documents included in the second segment of our dossier. These documents expire every year, and if they aren't kept up to date, we will not be issued a referral. I have anticipated this for the last month, and knew it would come any day now, but was not prepared for the sinking feeling I got last night as I opened up an e-mail from our case manager and saw these documents staring me in the face.

For reasons that I don't fully understand, my weakness is this dossier. It makes me physically sick with dread. My jaw hurts, my stomach is in knots and I am having a hard time eating, but I will now let it conquer me. Because if there is one thing that I am sure of, it's this: God doesn't want just our strengths, He wants our weaknesses too. After all, that's where He shines. And if I can be a light for Him, then I will bear this cross to wear the crown.


Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly, Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision, where I live in the depths but see Thee in the heights; hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold Thy glory. Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, that to be low is to be high, that the broken heart is the healed heart, that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, that to have nothing is to possess all, that to bear the cross is to wear the crown, that to give is to receive, that the valley is the place of vision. Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells, and the deeper the wells, the brighter Thy stars shine; let me find Thy light in my darkness, Thy life in my death, Thy joy in my sorrow, Thy grace in my sin, Thy riches in my poverty, Thy glory in my valley.

The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions

There is nothing quite like traveling in cars with children. Think about it. Your ability to react is severely hampered by the fact that 1- you are securely held in place by your seat belt. 2- The lack of space between the center console and roof of the car makes it nearly impossible to reach your children without first knocking yourself senseless. It's a lose lose situation, and as a result, by the time you exit your vehicle, you will either be frustrated and stressed out or laughing maniacally while your eyes slowly glaze over.

The following is an excerpt of the strange, albeit stressful, happenings in our car that have left me with a nervous eye twitch and strong desire for chocolate. Maybe you can relate?

“Oops, I forgot that I still have a slug in my pocket.”

“What is a slug doing in your pocket Isaiah? On second thought, don’t answer that. Just get it out before you forget about it and it goes through the wash.”

“I’m trying to get it out, but I can’t find it.”

“A slug? There’s a slug in the car? Get it out before it leaves a slimy trail.”

“I’m trying to find it dad, but…oh wait, here it is in the corner of my pocket!”

“DON’T OPEN THE DOOR, WE’RE DRIVING DOWN THE ROAD!”

“But you said to get rid of it!”

“For Pete’s sake! Throwing it out the window would have been sufficient!”

“But I didn’t want it to get hurt!”

"Could you please pull over Adam. I need to get out of this car."

“Hey, Mom. Would you rather have no food or no air?”

“What kind of question is that? I don't even know how to answer such a question.”

“Well what about you dad. No food or no air?”

“Please stop talking Isaiah. We need to have silence in the car.”

“Can I just say one more thing? Caleb’s seatbelt is not buckled.”

“WHAT?!”

“I said his seat belt is not buckl...”

“We heard what you said. Caleb, honey, why isn’t your seat belt buckled?”

“Because I can’t do it.”

“What are you talking about? You do it all the time.”

“Dad, did you know that 32+32 equals 64?”

“I said silence, Isaiah. Who keeps kicking my seat?”

“It’s my elbow, Adam! I’m trying to unlock Caleb’s seat belt. Isaiah, I thought we told you to get rid of the slug.”

“I DID!”

“Then what is that on the floor?”

“What, that?”

“Yes, that!”

“It’s a smashed raisin.”

“WHO’S SMASHING RAISINS IN MY CAR?”

“It’s just one raisin, Adam. And don’t worry, I can get it out.”

"Mom, are we there yet?"

"Isaiah, we just left the house 3 minutes...Why is Caleb crying?"

"Because I'm playing with his car."

"Give him the car."

"But it's not fair that I don't have a car."

"Isaiah, give Caleb his car, sit on your hands and shut your mouth. Caleb, stop crying. Adam, drive faster."

...Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life?
-Henry David Thoreau



As we were walking to the bus stop the other day, Isaiah ran up to me with his eyes full of excitement and his hands gently cupped as though he was carrying a very precious gift.

At first I cringed, thinking that he was going to stick a worm in my face. It wouldn't be the first time. But then he reassured me that it wasn't a worm and he promised that I really would like the treasure that he was holding.

Pinky promise, Mom.

When he opened his hands I saw that his treasure was a leaf that had been covered in a thin layer of frost, and just below that layer was the autumn colors of the leaf reflecting off the frost. Within a few minutes, the warmth of Isaiahs hands slowly turned the frost to tiny beads of water and the bright green, deep purple and hot pink colors of the leaf became even more vibrant as they glimmered in the sunlight.

For a moment, everything stopped. There was no concern over being the first in line at the bus stop or even making it to the bus on time. We were unaware of cars driving by and we didn't hear the conversations of the people around us.

For a moment, it was just Isaiah, Caleb and I, stopped in our tracks, staring at this leaf and marveling at the beauty of God's creation.

It was a gift. A beautiful gift, but one that makes me wonder: how many times have I missed out on experiencing life because I am in a hurry to get to my next destination?

I think it's time to take a breath and be still.

I want to live my life with less hurry. I want to be mindful of where my time and energy is spent and I want my children to grow up knowing that contrary to popular belief, they will never be fulfilled if they base their self-worth on having a lot of money, a busy schedule or a big house.

Instead, I want them to live their lives with a sense of purpose; To see the beauty in life and know the power of the God they serve.

That's real fulfillment.

And I have a feeling that Isaiah is on the right track...

I like salsa.

And when I say salsa, I don't necessarily mean this:





Although, I will admit that this Salsa is pretty darn smooth.

My husband, the bike junkie, bought it for me early this summer after spotting it in a high end bike shop that he frequents often. He was so impressed by this bike that he was willing to sell his Cannondale single speed in order to buy it.

Don't tell him this, but I'm pretty sure he was more moved by the guilt of selling the mountain bike he bought me as a wedding present over 9 years ago, just so that he could buy another race bike.

Just kidding. I actually encouraged him to sell my bike because I had really young children at the time and as a result, mountain biking was last on my list of things to do. Actually, it was not even close to making it on that list. I think it has been filed under the list of things to do when my children leave home.

But that's not the case anymore. I have a bike again, and now a whole new world of possibilities has opened up to me. And while I love riding my Salsa, I must admit that I was not prepared for the comments it would receive, all because of this little part here:



To those of you who know what this is, I commend you. But more than that, I feel sorry for any non-cyclist that lives in your household who knows what a Chris King headset is for the simple fact that they hear the word all too often and, let's face it, any other bike term including but not limited to: carbon fiber, full rigid, full suspension, tubeless and my all time favorite...grams. *ugh

And because I fall into the category of 'non-cyclist living with a cyclist', this is the comment I hear most often:

You bought your wife a Chris King headset!?

To which I reply solely for the looks on their faces:

Chris King headset? Is that supposed to be cool? I just like the color and the curves of the bike.

Well, that and the little chili peppers that adorn it.


Speaking of chili peppers - sorry, I got way off track here - here is the recipe for canned tomato and chili pepper salsa.

In honor of my bike, I will name this my Salsa, salsa!



6 cups peeled, cored and chopped tomatoes
4 cups seeded, chopped green chiles
1 large red pepper, seeded and chopped
2 large green peppers, seeded and chopped
1 1/2 cups chopped onion
2 jalapeno's, seeded and chopped
12 cloves garlic finely chopped
3 cups vinegar
1 tsp. ground cumin
4 tsp. oregano
3 tsp. salt

Throw all the ingredients in a large pot and heat on medium high, stirring frequently, until mixture comes to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Ladle salsa into pint jars, leaving 1/2 inch of headspace. Wipe rims with a damp cloth and place lids and screw bands on jars. Process in a boiling water canner for 20 minutes, 25 minutes if you live above 6,000 feet.

Yields: approximately 7 pints.



I recommend using a food processor to chop up your onions and peppers. It just makes life easier!

Oh, and this is a pretty spicy salsa. If you don't like spicy stuff, make your adjustments accordingly.

Enjoy!

As for me, I am off to enjoy my salsa. No, not that salsa. The other one.

It's been awhile since I have given an update on this whole adoption thing, and while I feel like a broken record at times, the truth is, there really isn't much going on...at least not in the referral department.

I did however have a chance to speak with the Russia program manager at WACAP this morning who had some very good information on what we should expect over the next couple of months, and so I will share that with you.

*As you may remember, there was a significant slowdown in the Novosibirsk region last winter due to administrative changes in Russia, causing referrals to come to a near standstill. As of today, things have picked up significantly, and families have been receiving referrals on a first come, first served basis.

*What I do know is that the most recent referrals have been given to families that submitted their dossiers shortly before we did. However, I am unsure of how many families, through all adoption agencies worldwide, have submitted their dossiers between those times, and therefore, it is difficult to say how much longer our wait will be.

*I can say that there is hope that we will receive a referral before the years end. However, it is also safe to say that we will hold that time frame with an open hand, not because of anything WACAP is doing, but because I have learned that when dealing with international adoption there will be many unforeseen obstacles. It's not a complaint, it's just the truth. And I can seriously say that with a smile on my face...most of the time.

Over the next few weeks I will be working on having the second segment of our dossier documents updated, as they will be expiring in November. Honestly, I would rather swallow 30 razor blades and drink a bottle of rubbing alcohol than deal with these documents, but nevertheless, it needs to be done, and so I shall do it. Please be praying for my sanity during this time.

Have a very blessed day!
Anna

Okay. I'm back.

This has been an especially busy season in our lives. Well, actually, its just been a really busy week and a half, but in my defense, it felt more like a season. Part of this is due to the fact that we had family visiting for the last five days, and as can be assumed, I got off track. But the issue that I am experiencing right now is just a flat out lack of inspiration.

Seriously. There are so many other things that I should be doing right now, like: exercising, cleaning my house, playing with my kids, cooking dinner or folding the 5 loads of laundry that is sitting on my couch. The truth is though, those things will always be around staring me down and causing my eye to twitch nervously, and so today I will choose to ignore them.

Actually, I'm not choosing to ignore them, it's just that I got myself back on track and, coincidentally, found my inspiration and as a result, I am going to focus on that for the time being.

So without further ado - and if you can get beyond the abrupt subject change - here it is.

Calling

You know the story about Samson and Delilah, right?

If not, here's the story in a nutshell:
Samson falls in love with a Philistine woman named Delilah, who tricks him into telling her the secret to his strength. When he falls asleep, his hair is cut off, causing his strength to leave him, giving the Philistines the ability to capture him, gouge out his eyes and use him as entertainment.

I agree, it's a very gruesome story, and in many ways it would be easy for us to point fingers at him and say "that's what you get for sleeping with Philistine women." But the truth is, we can be just as guilty of our actions, albeit in different ways.

It might help to take a look at Samson's life early on, because from the time he was in his mothers womb, he was set apart, by God, as a Nazirite. This meant that he was not allowed to (among other things) drink wine, eat meat, or cut his hair. This was a lifelong commitment for Samson and was meant to be used as an example for the Isrealites to be set apart from the cultures that surrounded them.

The Philistines were one of those cultures. Not only were they considered to be highly sophisticated with their iron-smithing technology, olive presses and gods, but they were also ruling over Isreal at the time.

This is where Samson's calling becomes very important. As he grew up and continued to follow the Nazirite vow, God blessed him. But it wasn't long before he desired to marry a Philistine woman - going directly against his calling - and chose instead to become a part of the very culture that he was called to oppose.

As I stated before, it is so easy to look as Samson's tragic life and say that he deserved it. And the truth is, he did! But what about us? Are we living our lives according to the calling God has given us? Or are we living our lives according to the values of the world? Maybe some of us could be called 'schizophrenic' Christians, alternating between godly lives one day and worldly values the next.

I love biblical history. I love that we can glean wisdom from the very imperfect, often catastrophic characters that God uses. And I think one of the greatest lessons we can learn from Samson is that when we become a part of worldly culture, we are ineffective for the kingdom of God. But when we live our lives according to the calling God has given us, we have purpose and direction in our lives, and that is when amazing things start to happen.

I don't understand boys.

You would think that I would be seasoned by now. After all, I grew up with three brothers, and I now have two boys of my own.

But I will admit that I am still perplexed by them, and on many eye-rolling occasions, have even told the boys so.

No Caleb, I am not chasing you. Just stand still for one second.



Do you think it would be possible to smile like most normal people?



It doesn't matter how soft those boxing gloves are. If you hit unsuspecting people with them, they will get mad!



I don't care if it makes your stomach feel weird. I'm not ready to deal with broken bones yet...please take it easy.

Oh dear.



You lucked out on the last one, Isaiah. If you end up scraping your face on the climbing rocks, don't come crying to me.




Does everything have to be a competition?



Who put this on the doorstep?
It's not funny.
I just about wet myself!



It's no wonder why I think I've lost my mind at times.

...For my soul.

Today was our first real day of Fall.

I know, I know. Fall arrived 6 days ago. For some reason though, mother nature is not cooperating with the dates on the calendar that is hanging on my refrigerator. It has been unusually warm here, making me wonder if I accidentally bought my calendar in the section of the store labeled 'slightly irregular', because things just don't seem to be matching up.

I'm just saying...it wouldn't be the first time.

Irregular calendar or not, I knew that the crisp days of fall would eventually arrive and along with it would come the longing for those Indian summer days. But Fall was far from my thoughts last night as I lay in bed thinking about how much fun we had with Isaiah and Caleb earlier in the evening, playing at the park and running across the soccer fields; the warm breeze blowing gently in our faces. I fell asleep feeling very content, but should have known that Fall was on the horizon.

It arrived at exactly 5:32 a.m., when our bedroom door slowly creaked open and I heard Caleb, with a very weak voice, say "mom, my head hurts", and then he coughed the cough of a sick child. In an effort to attend to Caleb, I quickly sat up and strained to open my eyes, but as soon as I threw off the covers I was struck by the chill in the air and could not respond.

After a few seconds of gathering myself, I sent Caleb back to bed with the promise that I would be there in a few minutes. As I lay in bed trying to figure out what just happened, it suddenly occurred to me:

Cold air...

Sick kids...

Cravings for chicken noodle soup...

Fall has arrived.

Just like that, the cool air refreshed me, and I climbed out of bed feeling strangely excited about spending a quiet day with my sick child.

Caleb spent most of the day sleeping on the couch, and I spent the day doing laundry and cleaning the house. This afternoon as the wind blew cold outside, and Caleb was laying his head on my shoulder, I smelled the homemade chicken noodle soup that was slowly simmering, and it made my soul smile.

My six year old son, Isaiah, loves to collect random things. Not just any random things either, but the things that are only seen as valuable in the eyes of little boys. Things like: peanut shells, strings, old pens, beads, screws, washers, shotgun shells, bubble gum wrappers, bottle tops, broken rubber bands and shower curtain hangers, just to name a few. I am not even going to make mention of the chunks of metal, plastic and pokey things that have been brought home, because I am not sure what they were in their original form, and therefore, are not worth my time.

He finds these random things while playing outside, puts them in his pockets, and calls them treasures.

I find them at the bottom of my washing machine, get slightly irritated, and call them junk.

Case in point:



As I was transferring clothes into our dryer the other day, I kept hearing the various tinks, clinks and clangs, as this random stuff, dislodged by the shifting clothes, fell to the bottom of the wash basin. With a half sigh, half smile, I started fishing out all the treasures/junk - depending on how you look at it - and placed it on top of the dryer.

As I was folding clothes a few minutes later, I couldn't help but wonder if that s-shaped thingamajig that I found at the bottom of my washing machine, was the source for the tiny little holes I found in one of my shirts.

And then I thought that the following verse would be very appropriate for this situation:

Matthew 6:19-20
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal.

But I think I am going to change a few words to this verse and have Isaiah read it over and over, until it has become so ingrained that he thinks twice before sticking things in his pockets.

Matthew 6:19-20
Do not store up for yourselves treasures/junk - depending on how you look at it - on earth, where s-shaped thingamajigs break apart and tear up. But store up for yourselves treasures/junk - depending on how you look at it - in heaven, where s-shaped thingamajigs do not break apart and tear up.

Amen. And Amen.

Can someone please help me out here? It seems that I am missing a very important piece of paper. A memo of sorts.

This memo is all about proper superhero etiquette, and it says things like:

Superhero's...
Only wear tight fitting suits



Superhero's
Should always pay attention to the dangers that lay before them...not behind



And superhero's
Should never use the neighbors Christmas decorations as a lance




Unfortunately this superhero didn't get that memo, but please, oh please, don't tell him that. I fear it would take away his superhero confidence.

...and canned them.



Here's the recipe for Pickled Jalapeno Peppers:

Yield: roughly 6 pint sized jars.

* Wash and slice roughly 2 1/2 - 3 pounds of jalapeno peppers.



* Pack peppers tightly into sterilized jars, leaving 1/2 inch of headspace. (We used pint sized jars, but jelly jars work well too).

* In a large saucepan, add:
4 Cups Vinegar
1 Cup Water
1 Cup Olive Oil
4 Teaspoons Salt
4 Teaspoons Pickling Spices



* Bring mixture to a boil, and then pour into jars using a canning funnel, making sure to leave 1/2 inch of headspace.

* Wipe rims of jars with a clean, damp cloth. Then top jars with sanitized lids and tighten with screw bands.

* Process in boiling water bath canner for 10 minutes.

"True wisdom knows when to speak and when to stay silent."

These words were spoken in my bible study class the other day, and I can't help but be amazed at how true those simple words are.

It's a great piece of advice, and one that I often to overlook. But the truth is, I have a tendency to want to fix things for people; to make things right. Maybe it's because I'm a mother, and a nurturer by nature, but I also think that the bigger part of it is because I have this sickness that I like refer to as middle child syndrome.

I can't help it. I have this innate drive to make sure that all the people around me are happy, comfortable and most importantly, getting along. There is no situation more uncomfortable or stressful for a sufferer of middle child syndrome than to be around a group of people who do not get along, and don't care to try.

My illness goes farther than that though. You see, I have two children that have a tendency to argue. I know, this is common, siblings fight - I get it - but for someone like me, who thrives on peace and harmony, it really cramps my style. So in an effort to keep my style, and mood, cramp free, I prefer to stop a fight long before it starts.

Now to get to the wisdom part of my post...

Did I ever tell you about Adam...my husband?

He's a very mellow man. So mellow, in fact, that I like to push his buttons - you know, throw in a little bit of attitude - every once in a while, just to make sure he's still alive. I love that about him...he's very consistent. But on top of that, he's wise. He knows when to speak and when to stay quiet, when to be stern and when to let things go. He fully understands that some lessons are best learned when you keep your mouth shut.

This is one of those lessons:

Two nights ago, Isaiah and Caleb were taking a bath. They were laughing and splashing and having a great time, and then suddenly it got very quiet and Adam heard Caleb say, "hey Isaiah, close your eyes. I promise that it's just water on your head." When Adam looked in on what was happening, he saw Caleb standing over Isaiah in a very suspicious pose, as though he was getting ready to pee.

Naturally, Adam chose to keep his mouth shut, opting instead, to let the situation play its course. And it played it's course all right. Not only was it a good lesson for Isaiah, but I also like to consider it a great wisdom builder as well.

So I will say it again:
True wisdom knows when to speak, and when to stay silent.

When I graduated from high school, my dad and step mom gave me a very popular graduation book called Oh the Places You'll Go! By Dr. Seuss. Maybe you've read it, maybe you haven't, but it's a book that the boys and I enjoy reading on a regular basis.

It's a great representation of life and the choices we make; from the times we are soaring high and everything seems to come easily, to the times when we are stumbling through the darkness, unsure of what lays before us.

While contemplating this strange place that life has me in right now, I couldn't help but be reminded of a similar place in the book called The Waiting Place. Here's an excerpt.

...You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

What a testimony to our life right now. Adam and I have spent the last 15 months waiting for that one, all important phone call, telling us that a little girl has been picked for our family. It's as though our lives hang in limbo for that very moment, because once it happens, we will finally be able move forward. With that phone call, she will no longer be stranger, but a little girl with a name and a face.

Until then though, we must wait.

The past few weeks of waiting have been especially hard, and I have been fighting feelings of restlessness. I want to be done. I'm tired of living in limbo, not knowing if we will receive that phone call next week, next month or two months from now. And today, after a series of frustrating events, I slumped into the chair at my computer desk, and said to God, "I am restless. I'm tired of waiting. Give me an idea of how much longer we must wait. But please, don't wait until next week to give me an answer, I need to know today."

And then a few seconds later, I noticed the book Simpler Living Compassionate Life crammed into my bookshelf, and as I turned to the bookmarked page, my eyes fell on the following quote:

You have made us to be toward Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until we rest in You.
-Augustine of Hippo

To be quite honest, I was hoping to hear the phone ring as soon as I said that prayer. But God, in His infinite wisdom, knew that it would not have helped me to be given dates or times, because this adoption journey doesn't end when we bring our daughter home. It is the beginning of a lifelong commitment to follow Him when we can't see our own way. To trust Him when we become fearful, and to rest in Him when we become weary.

And if he achieves that objective by using the words from a 4th century bishop, then I will rest in that.