TEXAS.

A distant land I’d only barely heard of. Until the day in 1996 when a friend convinced me to do a ride along on her college visit.  One scholarship interview and one Christian school chapel service that swept a public-school-raised-girl off her feet, changed the course of my life.

Texas became home.

Not without some reservation.  I sobbed when Momma and Daddy, driving me to college in a west Texas town, stopped at a rest area.  As we parked, I saw it.  Glaring at me through the windshield was the big sign that held the words I felt sure indicated the end of my life…”No cattle allowed on the grass.”  WHAT IN THE ACTUAL WORLD IS THIS PLACE?  I’ll tell you what it was- My home for no more than exactly 4.0 years.  3.8 if I could get out of there after a May graduation.  That would be just about ENOUGH.

Then something happened.  A handsome boy happened. And then some babies.  And then three more little loves. And jobs and deep community and life.  Home.  Actual home.  A home we’ve come to really adore.

And suddenly 3.8 was nearly 21 YEARS.  I’m sorry, WHAT?!

But that boy who swept me off my feet also made me a promise.  A promise of a home for all of us in the Rocky Top glory land.  He would take me back to my roots.

TENNESSEE.

Even as we have come to LOVE life in Texas, for years we’ve dreamed and planned our life in Tennessee. We looked at houses, we planned regular Sunday lunches with my parents and even picked out neighbors.  RRL was making regular trips and working toward taking his job there very soon.  Ya’ll, I wrote an actual blog in my head all centered around Drew Holcomb’s “Tennessee”

Tenn – ess – ee
Tenn – ess – ee
I was born here and raised here ‘nd I will make my grave here,
It’s home,
Tenn – essee

Tennessee.  It would be home.

Unless it wasn’t.

Have you ever done something so hard that you KNEW it was impossible to take an ounce of credit for the work?  Have you ever stumbled into obedience by just taking one tiny “yes” step after another until you were so far in you HAD to surrender?  Have you tasted the Lord’s pleasure?

I’ll tell you what happens, should you find yourself there.  You’ll dream every single day about how to continue to dwell there.  How to make it home.  And sometimes it stinks.  Because sometimes it means that when you pray “Lord, we are willing…,” you find that your dreams are just that. Yours.  Not His.

Tennessee, at least for right now, is not our home. I won’t put words in the Lord’s mouth or presume to know why that longing has continued to stir in our hearts.  I just know that for today we’ve prayed that we’d simply be “willing,” he has heard our cries and answered by gently pointing in another direction.  Pretty far away from Tennessee. Or Texas.

TANZANIA.

In July our family of 9 will be moving to our new home.  In Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. I cannot even begin to explain to you the THRILLING SURGE that runs through me even typing those words.  There are precisely zero of the things on paper that make this make sense.   Especially to an accountant/planner.  Except one- saying “yes.”  And because of that, there is a great joy as we embark on this adventure… and a bit of OHMYWORDWHATINTHEACTUALWORLD

We want to share more really soon about how this all came to be.  CRAZY ride.  But for now I’d like to share just a snippet of the three really cool opportunities we feel called to:

1. RRL has this amazing gift and passion for working with and advocating for teenagers.  Through both life as a Youth Pastor and through his role(s) with Teen Life he has had incredible opportunities to use those talents.  When we read the job description for his new role, it was like they were describing HIM.  It is so perfect.  RRL will be a High School Bible teacher and chaplain at a small(ish) school in Dar where our children will also attend.  He will be using his incredible passion and gifts for teaching and discipling teenagers, while learning to do it in a multicultural setting- knowledge that will no doubt prove very valuable when we return to work in the states (someday- maybe- hopefully).
2. We will have an opportunity to live and work with other missionary families, learning more about what it really means to care for those who have GONE into the world to share the gospel of Christ, often putting themselves on the front line of spiritual warfare.  We’ve prayed for opportunities to do this better and help others be better “senders”, yet could never have dreamed our “learning” would look quite like this.
3. And a third really important opportunity is what we’ve come to call “leveling the playing field”.  For the first time, all nine of us start on square one.  Together. Together we prayed that the Lord would show us where He wanted us to be and together we received an answer.  Together we will travel and expand our view of the world, together we will minister and serve, together we will do something hard, together we will be willing.  I’m not sure I can quite explain to you (or even to me) the value of this opportunity.  We are praying that the hearts of our little people will be forever molded by this experience and that we will all walk away stronger as a team than we could have otherwise been.

So there you have it.

Team L. In Tanzania. Together.

We are so Thankful to know you are journeying with us!

ABL

I make really great plans.

In 2012, with 1 baby on the way and 3 bonus kids making frequent trips to our home we decided that 1400 sq feet was a little tight.

Our plans:

• List our little house two months before baby was due and either sell before he arrives or take it off the market.
• Find a house with a master suite downstairs and all the ever-loving-craziness of kid world upstairs.

Such great, well thought-out, careful plans. YET. Guess which of those plans worked out?!

All of ZERO.

Our Tito was born, so we were done trying to sell.  Except.  The day after I got home from the hospital, we got a call. An offer.  So- here we go.  Moving with a new born and post-partum hormones.  HOORAY.

THEN we started hunting.  There were many houses I literally walked in the front door, saw no master suite downstairs and walked back out. You know, because of my plans and all. Until the night I had a dream.  I had a very vivid dream that was simultaneously comical and heart-wrenching.  All my kids went upstairs and literally grew-up (to old people) while they did their life on “their floor” and RRL and I did life on ours.

NOPE.  My plans stink. I want my people close.

The very next day OUR (new) house popped up on my Zillow radar- I wouldn’t have even gone to look at it a day before because the playroom was downstairs and the master suite up.  But since I now knew my plans stink, when I saw the pictures of her, I KNEW she was ours.  This would be our place to do life together becoming our best selves right before each other’s eyes.

It was HARD to move.  I wrote all the feelings back then (“Saying Goodbye”.  Posts one. two. AND three).  But it was also good to move.  This is home.

Over the years, every room has been rearranged a dozen times to accommodate our family changes, the growth of our children and their new interests.  It has been prayed over, laughed in, loved in, (possibly fought in), and grown in.

And lately I’ve been kind of a wreck, because she has on her best dress and a new decoration in the yard.

I know it is just a home, but in many ways the Lord used this place to carry us through some of the hardest days.  The spaces where Elders prayed for us or invited us into ministry with them.  The things my Daddy fixed or the times both of our Moms cooked in our kitchen.  The board games and movie nights, and the running up and down the stairs for discipline.  The dancing in the kitchen and singing in the shower.  The transformation for three little loves from “I NEVER WANT TO LIVE HERE” to family and home and security.

Which is why a few of the things that have made her ours cannot be taken down or hidden away just because a stranger wants to look at my home.  Especially the scripture taped to the middle of the back door.  The words which have hung in that spot since the day in 2014 when I declared war on darkness and we all memorized those words of light together (John 1:1-5).  I care precisely zero if my marker writing doesn’t give curb appeal.  It will not be removed until someone (who now owns that backdoor) takes it down without my knowledge.  It is part of our fortress.

And just like that, I know.  A piece of us will stay here.  Like the empty fields of an old battleground, even the empty walls of our house will have a story to tell.  If the rocks can cry out, so can these floors that have been knelt on.

When we sell our house and say goodbye, I’ll leave a note for her new people.  It will simply say “Welcome to your new home” and, in the mantra words of a sweet friend,  “This is sacred space.”

ABL

PS- In case you don’t know yet, we are moving. FAR.  Post about that coming very soon. It’s not a secret, just a little harder to write.

PPS- If you know someone looking for a new home who thinks they REALLY need a master suite downstairs….  Tell them they might be wrong 🙂 and then send them our way.

The last time our family really committed to a specific word for the year it was “BRAVE”.  The year was 2016 and we knew change was on the horizon.  We didn’t know exactly what the change would look like, but decided to pray “Brave” over our little team as we put one foot in front of the other.  Within that year, the year of “brave,” we came to know we’d be forever 9.

So you can understand, maybe, a bit of hesitancy to pray another word.  Goodness, we are bravery-ed out.  I’ve wondered: “Can we continue to be willing to submit in a way that really means ‘whatever’? Can we handle MORE? Do we even want to try?”  But also in the same breath, “There is no where else we’d want to be than firmly planted on this wild roller-coaster-ride path He has designed for us.”   And that, my friends, provided a word we could grasp. A word we could cling to.  A word we could trust for this year.

FIXED

(not like the “from broken” kind- although applicable, but the “no matter what, firmly planted” kind) 

Like this:

“These words I speak to you are not incidental to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life in. If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock.

RAIN POURED DOWN, THE RIVER FLOODED, A TORNADO HIT, but NOTHING MOVED THAT HOUSE.

IT WAS FIXED TO THE ROCK!”

Matthew 7:24-25 (The Message)

And maybe especially this:

“You will keep in perfect all who trust you, ALL WHOSE THOUGHTS ARE FIXED ON YOU! TRUST IN THE LORD always, for the Lord God is the eternal ROCK!” -Isaiah 26:3-4

During a time when it would seem the only thing sure about our future is surprise and the only thing consistent is change, FIXED is a word I need.  We need.  While we may not know exactly what it is, our very next step and the one after that and the one after that is indeed KNOWN.  And, somehow a life of uncertainty and challenge has provided even more security.  Security in a Hope that is 100% certain. 

So, this year. 

May we, the Team L9:

Seek, without fear, the great adventures He has designed.

Willing to go wherever that carries us.   

Because our

Eyes

Hearts

Minds

Selves

ARE FIXED

to the rock.

ABL 

Come, Thou fount of every blessing,Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
While the hope of endless glory
Fills my heart with joy and love,
Teach me ever to adore Thee;
May I still Thy goodness prove.

It had been many mornings in a row before I realized I always woke up singing. Every morning a song of praise, worship, reassurance, promise filled my earliest waking moments.  And as I showered, dressed, packed lunches, prepared for the day the song would often follow me.  Eventually it would fade but the next morning a new would rise.  The songs weren’t just a sweet way to fill the quiet, they were a miraculous replacement for noise.  My first morning thoughts had often been about the complicated details of my life and never moreso than as we navigated bonus-kid-parenting.  what did we need to do? How were we going to do it? Was I going to be able to manage? How was it possible? Worry. Doubt. Planning.Strategy.  Noise.

But then- singing.

Don’t get me wrong- the songs didn’t take away the hard things of the day.  They didn’t always prevent my poor attitude.  Didn’t suddenly make everything ok.  But the songs were first.

Not long after I noticed that I always woke with a song, I was reading through Psalm and came across 42:8.  “By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me”

I remember thanking God for reflecting his care for me through these morning songs, a reminder that he directs my paths.  I thanked Him for giving me a gift of an answer to a prayer I wouldn’t have even ever known to pray. But then.

One morning as I brushed my teeth there was, laced with the song of the morning, a dim flash of a memory.  Years ago, sitting in the youth center at church watching RRL on stage, and praying for a voice to sing and lead worship.  As I remembered, I dropped my toothbrush and stood staring.  I don’t remember why I prayed those words in that moment so many years ago. But I suddenly knew, it was a prayer for today. Prayed before I could have known to pray it.  And answered.  My singing voice is just as terrible as it was then.  But during that season of morning songs, especially in the days leading up to our adoption, the songs that flowed from my lips were worship.  They led me into the day and they led my family to worship as I sang. I’d been given exactly what I was prompted to pray for…a voice to lead worship.

After that morning realization I started making notes.  Were there others?  Stepping stone miracles that lead to our family slowly becoming 9, the things I had been grateful for yet not fully appreciated the way the Lord was carrying us before we even know to ask.

Remember when RRL asked me and I said “no”?  That very evening a conversation/prayer time we had with a spiritual giant in our lives, Dr J. Willis, changed the way we viewed difficulties in life and our marriage, even spiritual warfare.  I remember confiding this in a few friends.  One of my nearest and dearest confessed to me, days before our adoption, that when I told her my “no” was an attack from Satan, she’d been a bit skeptical.  Thought it a bit cheesy.  But now, firmly saw the necessity of that preparation.  15 years before.

In 2005 we wanted a baby.  But one didn’t come quickly.  During those days of waiting we prayed together like we never had before.  We prayed for God’s creative design for our family.  We were open to where he would carry us and how he would place children in our hearts and home in a way we wouldn’t have been without that time.  10 years before we knew our team would be 9.

And while we waited for that design, we decided to work hard toward paying off our debt.  It set us on a path to gain complete freedom from debt that then allowed us to do so many things.  But never could we have dreamed how important that freedom would be until it helped us say “yes” to three bonus kids. He did that for us before we knew to ask for financial provision.

On a whim one day I taught KJ and Cbug a little safety chant… ME: “why do we stick together?” THEM (while grabbing each other’s hands in parking lots/grocery stores/etc): “Cuz we are TEAM LEWIS.” “Team” language became a huge part of how we talked to our kids.  We couldn’t have known how desperately they would need to remember to stick together.

Praying for Community.  Man I prayed for community.  It fuels me.  I thought I needed it then, but WOW did we need it the day the 3 came home the first time.  Community became the very vein through which life was pumped during those early days and so many after, in a way we couldn’t have known to pray for.

I remember the Christmas when a Momma was doing her very best to get her 2 year old and 3 year old ready to head home.  Their tiny baby brother- 6 months old- was crying.  I offered to help, and snuggled him to sleep while singing.  I prayed for him that day in a way that seemed so odd to me, compelled to pray for his life and future.  It was such a weird moment that I still remember the details of it.  Now I know something was happening that I couldn’t have known to ask for… a piece of us connected.  The song I sang in that quiet hallway is still the one I rock that baby boy, now my 7-year-old son, to sleep with.

And what about reading Nehemiah, verse by verse, for no reason I knew for sure?  Except that I had prayed, years before, to find a love for studying scripture.  I was sure this was why I had been given Nehemiah.  Because I loved studying it and my prayers had been answered…little did I know how that book would carry me.

The numbers. Thirteen- always my sports number, one I chose because no one else wanted it.  13.1- my favorite distance to run.  Joshua 13- the story of Caleb (our son’s namesake) and Joshua and their devotion to following God when others said “impossible.” And just a little over 13 years post the surgery that has allowed me to live a health-stress-free life was January 13th, 2017. Our adoption day.   Of course Pi.  AND 152… the number of days they lived with us first and then the number of days until that breaking-point when an elder “coincidentally” called us and pulled us right up out of the pit.  oh and btw, 52 just so happens to be the number of days Nehemiah and friends spent completing the wall. Why those gifts?  I believe because He knew i would see him there- in the numbers.

I get goosebumps when I think about RRL saying “A van.  When a van shows up we will know this is what we are supposed to do.” And then it did- one night a red box showed up and later became our van, a van in which we all RIDE TOGETHER.  Or what about the day we got pictures of our new “family,” the very day the papers were signed.

The day I told RRL I needed some time alone.  For my birthday.  I thought I need some time to pray, some time to hike, some time to rest.  We agreed to my birthday.  When we made those plans we had one hundred percent of ZERO idea how significant that very day would be.

There were also the prayers we prayed specifically for “unity of spirit”.  For an entire year.  Before 4 parents agreed that 3 kiddos would be forever, officially passed from one set to the other.  The barriers of mental and emotional health that had to be transcended for that to happen.  Y’all, a mountain was literally moved.

These are (some of) the stones that were gathered, one a time, and placed in a monument of sorts.  Together they built our family marker on January 13th, 2017.  The day that marked our Ebenezer.  Our place to look back and say as Samuel in the Bible did, “Thus far has the Lord helped us.” (Be sure to go read I Samuel 7 about an impossible victory over enemies.through which God was glorified.)

Celebrating our adoption day isn’t really about when we “got” them.  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to refer to it as a “gotcha” day.  More, it is about remembering how far we’ve been carried.  Looking back just long enough to celebrate the miracle that came to be.  Standing on that place, looking forward and praying for what may lie ahead.

In the year following adoption there have been more stones added to our marker.  Very specific moments etched in our memories when kids began to accept and transition and become.  When brothers and sisters don’t even remember not being.  And when Christmas is miraculously uneventful because everyone feels HOME.

Yet, there is so much about “what is next” that we do not know.  So much that is daunting about the future.  We don’t know where we may live or what the next chapter of our story will be.  We have no guarantees about health or wealth or even what our children will choose when it comes to a faith of their own.  There are a few prayers we are praying that we are heavily relying on intercession right now.  But we have this crazy security.  A firm confidence because of what has clearly been demonstrated in our “thus far He has helped us.”

So this year we celebrated on January 13th with adventures and cupcakes and even attending an adoption party for friends celebrating their own new forever.  We celebrated partly because our God carried us to Nine.  Officially.  But a lot more because the day is our place of remembering AND dreaming.

We did this year.  And we will next year.

January 13th is our Ebenezer.

Here I raise my Ebenezer,
Hither by Thy help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.

For years the dominoes had been set, one at a time, in swirling circles and patterns around us.  We couldn’t see the hand that spaced the pieces even distances apart, then left them poised and waiting.  Until Labor Day ’16, the tip.  Only it wasn’t a gentle finger tap that sent the first and critical dominoes cascading forward- it was a wrecking ball. A heavy blow to our family, sending splinters of hurt in all directions.  Amid the emotional chaos one of the flying pieces of debris- quietly and completely unseen- was the exact catalyst needed to spark a change. It spiraled out from the mess to provide the tipping of a most unexpected series of events, each one prompted by the previous. I still can’t believe it, even looking back a year later.  It’s a bit incomprehensible that at the very moment we felt most forgotten, the most isolated, the very point at which I screamed out “we can’t do this anymore”, right in the middle of the wreckage wreaking chaos.  RIGHT THERE: the moment of IMPOSSIBLE. That was the exact moment the unveiling of a new path tenderly, carefully, beautifully began.   It is very hard to grasp that beauty from chaos doesn’t just mean that God takes what’s left over from wreckage and turns it into something.  It means He is standing firmly planted, right in the middle of the chaos, using even the destruction itself to prompt beauty rising. How can that be?  But it is.

I don’t know this, and there are lots of semantics some may argue on “God allowed” versus “God did” versus “God redeemed”. But I have this picture in my heart that is so unreasonable to me, I can’t shake it. Maybe He even swung the wrecking ball that day.  Maybe with tears He pulled it back with one hand, while extending His other in a careful cup around us so we wouldn’t get totally blown away.  He didn’t block us from the blow, but he stood ready to let us grasp hold when we went reeling.  He was carefully intentional. Knowing that the fear and pain of that moment was exactly what would set it all in motion.

Miracles are amplified, and His glory most fully recognized, when there is no other way out.  When by all other accounts it is impossible.

“Your road led through the sea.  Your pathway through the mighty waters- a pathway NO ONE KNEW WAS THERE.”  -Psalms 77:19

You know what I think?  I think the parting of the Red Sea wasn’t one bit glamorous to those who had to trust that the walls were going to hold.  I bet it was terrifying.  But they had no other path.  The Israelites were chased by a terrifying enemy, one IMPOSSIBLE to beat.  And in the very moment when they felt most forgotten, the most isolated, the very point at which they might have screamed out “we can’t do this anymore.”  The moment of IMPOSSIBLE… was the exact moment the unveiling of a new path began.

The Israelites had to look complete destruction in the face, terrifyingly chased by the enemy with seemingly no escape for the miracle to be necessary and noteworthy. For God’s full glory and power to be revealed.  The Israelites couldn’t see it at first, but God made a way.  A way no one knew was there.

Many dominos had fallen before we caught on to what was happening.  Months later we could see pieces that had long before been poised and ready and we noticed they were falling.  When we moved a bit of the rubble that had blocked our view, one day we saw it.  And gasped.  Two months after that terrible Labor Day, on my birthday in October, papers were signed.  And 2.5 months after that we stood before a judge promising forever to our 3 bonus ones.  For nearly 6 years we had prayed for redemption and rescue for those three.  And suddenly there was a path.  A most unexpected path.  An impossible path.

You know what I’m thankful for? I’m thankful that the Bible tells us the Israelites had wandering years even after that up-close view of His unexpected provision.  Because don’t we all?  There are tiny splinters stuck in my fingers from life’s flying shrapnel. And sometimes I get so obsessed with those reminders of the past destruction that I forget to remember the beauty that rose up.  I lose faith that the same God that provided an unexpected path will indeed provide bread and water.  I cry out for MORE.

But He is kind and good and faithful. He’s given me a gift this Labor Day of looking back at the last one with an amazing picture of His powerful presence right in the middle of our storm. I can see him cradling us there and I can see that He carried us both before and after.  I know He stood in the middle of our pain creating a path.

Only 365 days later, three kids who didn’t last year, were yelling “Mommy, watch me ride!” and “Daddy, lets go!” as they joined in with family and friends in Labor Day traditions.  When we recounted the weekend of fun over dinner on Monday night, all three stared at me in disbelief when I reminded them they’d only been part of those traditions once before.  It was as if, in their hearts, they’d always been there. It was as if they were finally home.  How did we get here?  God made a way.  And how will we get to tomorrow?  He will make a way.

ABL

I wrote this post on Monday night, Labor day.  But I didn’t post it.  partly because ANOTHER mellow dramatic post about our adoption.  really. and partly because we are still struggling through faith, family, life, marriage, relationships.  I don’t want to risk ever being misread on that- we haven’t “arrived”.  BUT THEN.  This morning we listened to a Sermon on this very topic:  The provision of God, the faith that it builds, the impossible paths He asks us to take, and the lies that threaten our ability to completely grasp hold.  As we sang the final song, I was flooded with pictures of families I know waiting on an impossible thing, for their marriages, their kids, their health, their family members.  Kingdom changing, impossible paths, yet to be revealed.  and I was reminded: THE SAME GOD.  The very same one.  In His name, NOTHING shall be impossible.  This is a truth that needs to be shared.  If the daily struggles of my life threaten my witness of His power in our story then what is it for?  I won’t stop sharing and hope you’ll join me.  Tell someone.  

Visiting friends this summer. 10 kids with “Unstoppable God” stories.

Unstoppable God
Let Your glory go on and on
Impossible things
In Your name they shall be done

Nothing shall be impossible
Your kingdom reigns unstoppable
We’ll shout Your praise forevermore
Jesus our God unstoppable

Unstoppable God lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Essential Music Publishing

          The day I was hiking alone,

the day the papers were signed,

my birthday

That day we received another gift

A gift of the Lord’s timing

and a gift of a man using his talents to bless others.

The beautiful photos came with an apology

something like

“I’m sorry it has taken me so long to get these to you”

To which we laughed.

Because it couldn’t have been more perfect.

Beautiful pictures to use when telling the story of our family,

On the very day we knew it would be forever.

Our God gives good gifts.

ABL

When I was claiming the promise of family for our three bonus kiddos this fall, part of it was having family pictures made.  We’ve had pictures made of the 9 of us before, but this was a bit more vulnerable.  These were FAMILY pictures.  So, even though we have amazing photographers in our family, we decided to use someone we didn’t know well for these pictures.  We used Chad Brackeen photography because of several connections (go Wildcats), but mostly because he has 2 boys plus a bonus son.  My gut said this would make him great with our crew.  And we were so right!  He called me the night before and gently reminded me that he was sure my kids were very well behaved so there was no reason to prove it during pictures, we could just have fun.  And we did (well, as much as a typeA accountant mom can).  He let the kids participate, ask questions, touch equipment.  While the results totally speak for themselves, it really is the picture taking experience that would lead me to highly recommend him for family photographs. If you are clamoring for more (hi to our parents), here is a link to the preview video Chad made of all the proofs.

One of the sweetest ways we have been guided is through the stories the Lord has woven with ours.  We have had a different level of conversation with all of our kids because of the examples that have been set for us by those journeying a few steps ahead on this redemption road.

This school year one of our daughters has a little girl in her class whose adoption was finalized a few weeks ago.  We do not even know the family well, but their story has become part of ours.  At the beginning of the school year, our kiddos who knew that sweet girl came how asking, “did you know friend has a new name?”

From there, conversations about changing names evolved in the sweetest way.  We’ve talked about adoption, new beginnings, name changes, God changing peoples names, how parents choose and give names, and about what names mean.  These are conversations I could have never set-up, was honestly afraid of, didn’t even THINK to pray for. Amazingly, all of this started well before we even knew for sure that adoption would be our path.

RRL and I talked only very briefly a year ago about names.  But had decided if adoption ever happened we wouldn’t change anything except their last names, because of their ages and our family situation.  However, one of our bonus loves was adamant from the beginning of these conversations.  He wanted to change his name.  The idea of a new beginning resonated with him.  He was desperate for something that reflected his whole story.  More than anything he wanted a “C or K” to match his brothers.  BROTHERS.

Slowly, slowly, slowly we all came to the same conclusion.  Though it seemed a bit crazy.  It also made perfect sense.  Our bonus 3 would receive names that included something from their first parents, and something from their newest parents.  One piece at birth and one piece at adoption.  Both pieces so significant to their story.   Birth AND adoption.

Our oldest bonus son has always gone by his middle name and will keep that name given to him at birth.  AND will add a new first name.  He’ll be named after a faith warrior in the Bible.  Someone who “saw hard things and believed God anyway”.  Maybe even more. Around DRRF he will be Cal.

Our bonus daughter will keep the part of her name that was given to her at birth in honor of her grandmother. AND will add a middle name for my grandmother.  Together her names mean “Shining Joy” because she is one indeed.  On this website she will be Joy.

Our youngest bonus treasure says “I already changed my name this summer”.  In a super special way at camp he was given a new nickname and he clings to it mightily.  As he should.  So, he will keep his first name with that very special nickname AND will add a middle name from my grandfather, my mom’s maiden name which happens to be a “K” name.  His new middle name that means proud and brave.  Here he will be Benji.

Our new Christmas stockings.  Hung with SO much care.

I already treasure these names and pray they will, too.  Their names are not just words.  The ANDS in their names are so important.  Because while adoption comes with a lot of new beginnings, it does not erase what was before.

Our three bonus loves have blood and DNA and life and memories and joy from the birth parents who love them.  There is zero percent of us that will ever ask them to forget that. Adoption IS NOT INSTEAD of birth.  They were born.  Born to a home other than this one.  Named a name.  And forever that is part of who they are.

AND they are beginning anew.  They have parents in this home who adore them, who have cradled them and loved them and are committing to continue to raise them.  Forever.  6 years ago they began to gather memories and joy from us.  Adoption is an AND to birth.  I hear my voice and see my mannerisms in them at times in ways that spook me- it shouldn’t be possible.  Yet it is.  Part of us is now part of them.  They are welcomed into this home as our children.  Named a name. And forever that is part of who they are.

There is freedom for me in recognizing that “before” us is part of us.  3 of our children did not come to our home as newborns.  And there are differences because of that.  When I started preparing 3 new canvases to hang where there had been only 4, I quit over and over because looking at their newborn pictures was H-A-R-D.  And then one day I decided.  I want pictures of when they began with us.  Now 4 have canvases from one  month after they were born.  And 3 have canvases from one month after they joined our story.  Their pictures are the intersection of their ANDs.

There are so many ways the Lord is teaching me through adoption, but maybe none more than this.  We are AND not INSTEAD to Him.  We are sinners, we are broken, we need H-E-L-P.  AND Jesus.  We will stumble through this earth, trying to do the best we can with the opportunities He give us.  But he doesn’t take our feeble efforts and come up with an instead plan.  He takes those efforts and gathers them, blows grace all over them AND makes beautiful things.  We were given names at birth AND we will be called a new creation when all of this is redeemed to perfection.

We were born. AND we are adopted.  Praise the Lord.

ABL

On March 1st we ready-set-goed our way into the #31milechallenge.

It turned out to be one of my simplest hare-brained-ideas yet.  Little research, little planning.  Just running.  We could do it anywhere, anytime and we could all participate.  One mile each day, for one month.  We ran mostly around our neighborhood, but also in parks and to
the donut shop (train ’em right) and even in the dark with headlamps while we were camping.

There were three reasons we started the #31milechallenge at our house.

1) The kids are dying to play organized sports. A team, ANY TEAM. But our spring schedule just wasn’t havin it. We needed a flexible and free sport.  So, I sold the idea of this “really tough challenge” I’d “heard about” by claiming I thought they MIGHT be up to, if they were willing to try.  And with that challenge bait… I had them.  HOOK.LINE.SINKER.

2) We needed to finish something. Together. We have some big goals and dreams for our team of 9. But some of them are completely out of our reach right now. This one…running one mile a day for an entire month… was a challenge. But attainable. It took teamwork, dedication, some creativity at times, but we could do it. And we needed to know we could. So we did.  Even a certain nearly 6 year-old ran most of the miles and the 3 year-old conquered a few himself.

You know what? This was maybe my very favorite thing I’ve done with the kids. But each individual day of it was not entirely um…delightful. There was some whining, some “but I cants”, some dragging everyone else down…all of which happen to be my hot buttons. There was a day when I literally put my hand on someones back to keep them moving forward.  That someone did not like the idea.  Stopped dead cold in his/her tracks.  And we both have the scrapes and bruises to let you know how that went for us.  We just kept going, even on those days. And because we kept going there were a lot more days of making up songs while we ran, setting new records, telling jokes, making up random encouraging phrases and inventing crazy team names. That’s why it became such a picture of real life and doing hard things.

3) We ran to train. For life (like choosing positive narratives, encouraging others and making your mind strong), but also for the 7th annual Teen Lifeline 5K.  Our 31 days of running and training ends tomorrow and Saturday we’ll run in the annual event which helps support an organization that teaches teenagers to live life better.

About a week ago our two littlest team members helped me see why this part of our #31milechallenge is so important…

The first day we ran, a certain 5 1/2 year old whined his way through one half of the mile. including one complete meltdown related to a scrape approximately the size of a flea on his leg. And sat in the stroller sniffling for the second half of that same mile.  Two weeks later he RAN (and I mean RAN) two miles in a row one day.  A few days after that, being the PRO-RUNNER that he had now become, he turned to the single member of our team who happens to be smaller than himself and said (without prompting at all) “You know what, Tito? I think today you can run a whole mile.  I’ll help you.”  And he did.  They did.  Holding hands 99.5% of the way.  One passing along the very same encouragement to the other that he had received, “This is gonna feel so good when you are done.”   And as I watched them cross the finish (photos absolutely NOT staged this time) I couldn’t help but think…”YES.  This is how its supposed to be.  What good is the finish line if that’s the end of your race?  Of course you are supposed to turn back and encourage someone else to run too.”  OF COURSE.

So many teenagers need to learn exactly what we learned from running.  They need a push sometimes.  Need to believe they are strong.  Need to know they can run, even in the rain.  Need to remember to turn back and find a buddy and run to the finish together.

Many of them have all the tools to run great races right at their finger tips, but haven’t ever been told how to use them.  And many have huge obstacles standing between them and their fastest fast.  Maybe grief, maybe divorce, maybe life choices, maybe a new baby.  Many need to find an entirely different course to run on.

Whatever the need, whatever the obstacle, I believe Teen Lifeline can help.

That’s why we need your help to finish this last part of our #31milechallenge. We don’t want it to just be about us and what we accomplished in March, but about what we helped others do, too.

Will you help these 7 know you are cheering them on to cheer others on? Tomorrow when they cross the finish line on their 31st day and Saturday when they run the big race, I’d love to be able to show them the names of all of you that are supporting them!

Every dollar you give to the TeenLifeline 5K helps teenagers. And encourages us to keep running, too!

Donate here:  SUPPORT TEAM LEWIS for the TL5K

Thank you for loving us, for cheering us on, and for supporting us in so many ways.

We hope you are finding ways to challenge yourself to challenge others, too!

ABL

I love a good “Say this/Not that” post.  Like what to say to a grieving mom.  Or what to say to an adopting parent.  Or what to say to a stay-at-home or working mom.  Not because I think the people that need the advice actually read them or are actually clued in, but because there is a sense of camaraderie with those that write them.  You can nod and say “Yep!  I’ve heard that.  And I wish they’d try saying something else, too.”

So, here’s my shot at it.  Moms of large families.  UNITE.

Here’s what Mom/Aunts of many children want you to know (YOU, YES YOU!)

 
My Dearest Jaw Dropper,

I say dearest because you really have no idea how dear you are to me, bless your heart.  The chuckles I get at your expense fill my tank, I’ll admit.  And that’s a necessary key to sanity.  I need to be reminded of how hilarious we are when we wander into the grocery store, a restaurant, down a hiking trail or onto a playground.  And I must laugh.  So I won’t cry.  You help me with that. SO thank you!  

When I see you completely lose control of the cart you are pushing, drop your keys mid-stride, let all your food fall off your fork, or allow your ONE child to completely wander away…all while dropping your jaw to stare at my herd passing by…I can’t help but think about the narrative that must be playing in your head.  It’s provided hours of entertainment for me, I assure you.  To thank you, I’d like to take a minute to give you all the answers you really need.  This should help you avoid the embarrassment of the questions you might ask. just in case the cat lets go of your tongue before I can hasten by.

Yes, they are all mine.  And by mine I mean, I did not pick them up in the parking lot or gather them from strangers throughout this establishment.  I came in with all of them and I need to complete my task and leave with all of them.  It really shouldn’t matter to you, dear stranger, if that’s by birth, adoption, babysitting, friend-watching or play-dating. I’m responsible for seven in this moment and if I spend time explaining any further than that will not help me leave with seven.

Yes, I do have my hands full.  So full of blessings to overflowing.  And since you are such the sleuth, I’m sure you can deduce that since my hands are so full and I’m STILL trying to shop/eat/hike/play/supervise, it might not be a great idea for me to take my eyes off the task to stop and visit.  Thanks for helping!

Yes, there are seven.  You are very quick at your math.  Math is usually my strong suite, too, but I’ve counted to seven so many times today, I’m plum tuckered out.  Since you’ve only had to do it once so far, would you mind following me through the rest of this errand and continuing the game?  If you ever come up shorter than seven.  PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.  You have no idea how much that will help!

Yes, they are very close in age.  And, yes, I’m sure that none of them are twins, absolutely sure.  I was there for many of the births, up close and personal.  One at a time.  I do wish I had time to explain to you just how sure I am or explain how wrong you are that it’s even possible that they all “look exactly alike”, but I do not.  Thank you for understanding!

Yes, I know I’m brave. Very very brave.  But bravery has a limit.  And I’m only 11.5 minutes away from bravery becoming straight up crazy, with 13 minutes of shopping left to complete.  I really do hate to bravery over you, but if this chariot shopping cart doesn’t keep the forward march, I’m NOT GOING TO MAKE IT.  Please understand, the battle is at hand.  They are very close to victory.  AND I need to win.  Desperately, I need to leave with my last ounce of bravery.

Yes, I know you can barely do it with your two.  I sincerely do wish I had time to encourage you.  I’d love to grab you up with a cup of Starbucks and lean straight across the table and say YOU ARE DOING A GREAT JOB.  Parenting 1 or 7 is tough tough stuff.  I really do hope you have someone you actually know if for real life that will take time to do that for you.  It reminds me that I need to do it for some very loved new-momma’s too.  But right now we are not at Starbucks.  And I think that was your Johnnie that just opened the box of un-paid-for popsicles.  What a good kid, he even passed some out to his new friends, my thankful and hungry crew. See!  You are totally rocking this.  Thanks for sharing.  Gotta run!

So, in short.  The answer is YES! to all of your many jaw-dropping questions. I hope you’ll allow me to leave it at that.  For, they are young, but I’ll assure you- they are not dumb.  They can sense distraction. And if I spend another ounce of my focus engaging your need for a biology lesson, math tutorial or etiquette check, they will use it to their complete advantage.  Let me assure you, none of us want that.

And God bless you, too. 

Continue on, sweet jaw dropper, continue on.  And next time I see you, since we’ve completed the formalities, if you happen to ask if I need any help or maybe give a thumbs up and compliment my children (FOR HEAVENS SAKE, make something up), I can assure you I will smile and say “Thank you, friend!  That made my day.”

Sincerely, from the very deepest parts of my heart,

/s/ ABL

Your neighborhood Momma/Aunt of Seven