Letters to Eli, Page 8- Over processed

Dear Eli-

Last week was Orphan Sunday and I was brought back to that Sunday two years ago when it was solidified in me what God was calling me to do. I can be dull at times, I needed a sign and I got it that day at church. Two years on this path…

This process has not been easy. I never expected it to be, I knew there would be ups and downs. But I also never expected it to be a gut punch of a slog through damn near every day. Lately, it just seems to be getting tougher. I miss you, son. There are people who find it hard to believe that anyone could miss someone they don’t know. But I do.

This process has changed my heart—it needed a change. It’s exposed me in a way that I don’t always find comfortable. It’s exposed my pride, my laziness, my bullheadedness, my inability to trust and surrender. While I’m pretty aware I have these flaws, it’s another thing to see them on display. And just when I think I have them beat; they rear their ugly heads to remind me that I am far from over them. But I’m learning and when I forget, I’ll learn again.

This process has shown me who my friends are. I’ve known for years that I am blessed with an amazing group of friends. But bringing you home has shown me that they love and support me unconditionally and those times that I have been loathe to ask them for help—all I ever had to do was ask. They are generous and loving beyond measure. They are also a gaggle of straight up weirdos but I love them like mad.

This process has made me realize that I have the capacity to love beyond what I ever would have imagined. But in realizing that capacity, I’m the loneliest I have ever been. I push through, I distract myself but it’s there, always there.

Most days I feel like we're both being held hostage by this "process." This process that no one sees the logic in and I can't help make it clear because most days, I don't either. One day it will make sense. I have no doubt that it will all be worth it. Just today, these days, I'm struggling.

I don’t write any of this to make you sad. I just want you to know how much I love you, that I would do anything for you and that I'm in it until the finish line. I can’t wait to have you here with me. 

Until Next Time, 

All my Love- 

Mom

Letters to Elijah, Page 7 Tip Toe Through the Tulips

Dearest Eli-

Oh, my love, again it has been so long since I’ve written. That doesn’t mean I don’t think about you every day and wish you were here with me. There is so much I want to show you and tell you… my arms ache from their emptiness.

It’s nearly June here and it’s lovely. The weather has finally broken and there are signs of a long lost Spring everywhere. Spring in Holland means Tulip Time! Tulip Time is a festival that brings the whole city to life. Tourists come from far and wide, driving very poorly, to watch an entire city celebrate Dutch culture. Parades, dancers, flowers, carnival food—it’s quite the spectacle.

The past couple of years, I’ve watched the children’s parade through tears. To see the little children dressed up in their costumes, marching proudly down the street makes me miss you horribly. It makes me wonder what it will be like when you come home.  I think of you, my handsome Ethiopian boy, celebrating Dutch heritage, wearing a puffy cotton ball beard and it makes me laugh hysterically. Of course, I won’t make you march in the parade if you don’t want to but I kind of hope you do-- because of the ridiculousness of it.

I often wonder what you’re like. I know what I hope for, but I also know it’s not fair for me to put those expectations on you. I’ve been reminded so profoundly lately that you have to let people be who they are. Trying to impose your will on someone or change them to better suit your needs never works. If you’d rather wear the sailor suits your Aunt Sassy has in mind instead of the fedora and suspenders I have picked out, then I am cool with that. I want you to grow up with a strong sense of who you are and an ability to find the humor in just about every situation (namely those sailor suits).

Most importantly, you will know that you are a beautiful child of God. And that the crazy lady? The one laughing and crying during the parade? That's your Mama and she loves you very much.

Until Next Time Dear Boy,

All my Love --

Mom

Letters to Elijah page 6

Dear Elijah-

Oh dear boy! It has been months since I've written, please don't think you've been forgotten. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you, miss you desperately and send you my love. Time is flying by, love. The seasons are slowly changing and we are moving up on the list-- number 49 as of yesterday. Day by day we are getting closer.

We'll be coming up on Easter shortly. Our church started a series on waiting this past Sunday. It will be a six week series in 1 Kings. It's one of my favorite stories in the Bible and hopefully it will be yours too. It also happens to be where your name comes from--Elijah. Elijah was a first testament prophet who steadfastly followed the Lord. He fled to the desert and while he was there the Lord protected him and prepared him for what was to come. When the time came, God spoke to him. Not in fire, great winds or earthquakes-- He came to Elijah in a whisper.

It seems like we're always waiting on a sign. Some divine intervention or burning bush to let us know we're on the right track. We expect God to get all Old Testament with us and set something ablaze or rain down sulfur to get our attention. Our lives are so busy running from point A to point B, heads stuck in our computers or our phones-- we forget to listen.

I remember that whisper. I was driving home from your Yaya and Papa's house, Yaya was in the hospital. I was there that day attempting to be the caretaker. In reality, what I was was bossy and a little too insistent with the nursing staff who didn't seem to be as responsive as I would have liked. In the quiet darkness of the drive home, I prayed. I was so scared. But I heard it, clear as a bell,  "isn't it time to worry about someone else? to take care of someone other than yourself?" I knew He wasn't talking about Yaya, she would be fine. It was time.

As I've told you many times, you were born in my heart so long ago it seems like you've always been with me. But it was then that I knew it was time to begin the process of bringing you home to me. In that whisper my life was forever changed.

And as I wait here for you, God is working in my life in ways I never could have imagined. It's not always easy, your Mama is hard headed! (oh I hope you don't pick up that trait) I don't always learn the lesson the first time or the second.. or the twentieth. But I'm learning.. everyday I'm learning. And my life is so different than I ever imagined it would be. All in good ways, I can't wait to share it with you.

Some days I just need to lean on the Father with everything I have. Most days of the week, I can put my head down and barrel through just about anything life throws my way. But there are others where the slightest sound or sight will break my heart with desperation from missing you. On those days, it's just breath to breath for me. I know it's all in God's time and I will rest in that.

Until Next Time,

All my Love-
Mom

Letters to Elijah, page 4- There's no Place Like Home for the Holidays..

Dear Eli-

Well, my love, we’ve moved up again—one spot. We’re 59 on the list. I’m hoping one of these days we’ll find a happy medium between moving up nine spots or just one. But it’s all in God’s good timing. Every step gets us closer and closer.

Things here are snow covered and cold, Christmas is only a week away. The sights and sounds of the season are in the air but your mom is just not feeling it. The joy that I should be finding in this season seems so far away. I am conflicted. On the one hand, we celebrate Jesus’ birth by giving gifts, singing hymns and spending time with family (there’s also a jolly old fat man but we’ll sort him out another time).

On the other hand, we as a society have turned Christmas into a celebration of mass consumerism where more is never enough and gluttony abounds—it’s sickening to watch. I confess; I have been just as guilty at times of falling lock-step in line with the masses. I catch myself getting wrapped up in the energy of it all and soon something nags at me, pulls at me and I can’t quiet it.

My thoughts turn to you, as they often do but this is different, this crushes me. I wonder if you’re warm enough. Do you have enough to eat? Do you have someone to comfort you? Are you well taken care of? Are you scared or hurt? While I’m here warm in my house, with plenty of food to eat and friends and family to keep me company, you are there. You’re going through only God knows what and there is not one thing I can do about it. It. Crushes. Me.

I would give everything I have for you to be here. I feel helpless. So I pray, it’s just about all I can do. Pray and trust that everything is happening according to God’s will. I pray that you’re well taken care of and protected. I pray that next year, you’ll be here with me, we’ll be able to celebrate together and there will be joy.

Merry Christmas, son!

Until next time, all my love-

Mom

Letters to Elijah... Thanksgiving Edition

Dear Eli-

Well son, we’ve moved up on the list! We’re now number 60. That was quite a leap we made in one month! I don’t expect it to move that quickly all the time, but it’s very good news.

We’re coming up on Thanksgiving—a holiday that you’ll learn more about when you arrive. It’s meant to be a time where we reflect on all of the things that we’re thankful for, a time for family and friends to enjoy one another’s company and, of course, pie.

I thought I should introduce you to some of the people that I am most thankful for—your soon to be family. I’ve never believed that you had to be blood to be family. You know that I am not your birth mama.. you can take one look at the colors of our skin and know that. But that doesn’t make me any less your mom. You were born in my heart so many years ago. You have been with me for as long as I can remember; you couldn’t be more mine or I, yours.

The family that you are coming home to is quite a cast of characters. We are Southerners by way of the Detroit area but further back we are Scottish/Irish. Our people were fierce warriors and.. well.. criminals (you’ll figure it out). We may not always agree or get along but we love each other through and through.

Your Yaya and Papa are my parents. Papa is my dad by marriage but I couldn’t have asked for one better. He’s playful and silly but also very smart about business and politics. He is very much looking forward to teaching you how to metal detect (his favorite hobby). You two will get along like peas and carrots.

Your Yaya, or my mom, is one of the strongest people I know. For the longest time, it was just the three of us, Yaya, Aunt Sassy and me. And we struggled, a lot. Your Yaya never lost her faith in God; it was almost as if the hard times made her believe more. She is a true believer in God’s plan for us and has been one of the biggest supporters of your coming home. She has the kindest, most tender heart and I can’t wait for you to meet her.

Aunt Sassy, is my older sister Michelle, and she is a mess! (in a great way but you’ll figure that out too). Someone once described her by saying that God filled her to the brim with laughter and tears; I can’t think of a more perfect description. She’s a beautiful person inside and out. We didn’t always get along growing up that’s just how sisters can be, but these days we are thick as thieves.

Aunt Sassy lives way down south with Uncle Eric and your cousins, John Henry and Luke. Uncle Eric is always good for a laugh or a big old bear hug. John Henry is going to be 16 next month, I can hardly believe it. It seems like just yesterday I held him for the first time and danced him around the living room. Luke T. is getting more grown by the day—my beautiful little weirdo. They are both outstanding young men who I love dearly and I have a feeling you will too.

There are lots of aunts, uncles and cousins here who are waiting for you to come home. There are 38 of us in all though we’re hardly ever all together in one place. My granny and papa, your great grand parents, went home to Jesus years ago but we can feel their presence when we’re all together. I’d like to think they are watching over us, smiling.

I am so blessed to be adding you to my little chapter of our family story. We may not be the most conventional family, but we’re family nonetheless and for that I am thankful.

Until Next Time, Precious Boy-

All my love!

Mom

Next Up on the Soap Box...

I’ve tried a few times over the past couple of weeks to sit down and write a letter to Elijah. Somehow writing letters to my boy so far away helps me feel connected to him. It helps me to think that somewhere he knows that someone loves him. As of yet, I’ve been unsuccessful. It’s hard to write something tender and loving when I’m worked up. And I am worked up!

Since this adoption process started, and more recently since I’ve made the waiting list, I’ve noticed a very interesting phenomenon. Suddenly, people around me that already have kids turned into experts in parenting. I had no idea! They gladly dole out their thoughts and parenting advice—their unwanted, unsolicited parenting advice at every turn. Now some of them, I would willing and gladly take parenting advice from. Others? Not so much. It’s not because I don’t fully believe them to be good parents, I’m sure they are. It’s the way they do it.

Usually the comment is made after I make a statement about the type of parent I want to be or share my feelings on some parenting matter. It’s then that I hear “just you wait, Amy” or “I can’t wait for you to get your kid” shaking their head and rolling their eyes. They respond like I have no idea of what I’m talking about, like I’m some cock-eyed optimist with rose colored parenting glasses. They’re not wrong—I don’t know what they are or have gone through as a parent, much less a single parent. But I’m not devoid of the mothering instinct at some point it does become second nature.

All the crappy stuff they dislike about parenting: the sleepless nights, the tantrums, the loss of personal freedom, the sacrifice-- all the stuff they are warning me about, all the “just you wait” stuff-- I’m actually looking forward to. I'm looking forward to taking care of someone other than myself and my grumpy, old cat. I never thought I was going to GET to experience it for myself. I thought I was going to live this selfish existence and never get to experience the joy (and pain) of being a parent.

It’s like years of hearing about a super exciting yet terrifying roller coaster and all you want to do is ride it. Then you get there and find out you’re not tall enough.

If you’ve made comments like this to me, perhaps you didn’t know how personally I take them. Maybe you didn’t know that this issue has been a struggle for me. I'm willing to let it go. But going forward, if this is your way of giving me parenting advice, do me a favor, shut up. You’re not being supportive.

Maybe you are doing me a favor because what you fail to realize is your challenging me is only going to make me work harder—to want it more. If that’s even possible in this case.

Rant over.

Letters to Eli page 2

Dear Eli-

I spent last weekend in Indiana with your cousin Sarah and her two little ones, Caroline and Alex. Cousin Nick was out of town at a conference, so I went down to lend a hand. We had a blast! Your cousins are so beautiful and so smart—we played and played. It was awesome to see my younger cousin mother her children. She is a gorgeous example of motherhood.

I don’t get to spend too much time around children in my normal life so I thought this would be a good time to practice my parenting skills. All in all, I don’t think I did too badly. The car seats were a bit of a struggle and Caroline tipped over in her chair but there were no major incidents otherwise. I learned I have a lot to learn about parenting.

See, I have some pretty grand ideas of the type of parent I want to be. I want to be the type of mom that doesn’t sweat the small stuff. Years ago, I was out to breakfast with your Yaya and Papa, and a little boy- maybe four or five years old- came into the restaurant. He was wearing shorts, a t-shirt and red galoshes. He also had a blue bath towel tied around his neck cape-style. I thought “if my son wants to dress up like Superman and go to breakfast, then let’s go to breakfast.”

I’ll be that type of mom, because wearing a bath towel out to breakfast seems perfectly normal to me. But there will be bigger “small” things that are going to be tough not to sweat. Your mom is not perfect, in fact, she can be a real hot mess. And no matter how much she would like people to think she has it together, some days she is really…. not… together. You'll figure out what days those are.

So to that end, I’ve started working on some guidelines for us to follow. We’re a team now you and I. I can’t promise that I will always get it right, I can’t even promise I’ll get it right 75% of the time. But I’ll promise to try and not make a total mess of it. Here is what I’ve come up with:

Mom and Elijah’s List of Truths:

1)      I love you very, very much. Just as you are—a complete and incomplete little puzzle. A wondrous, unique snowflake created in God’s image.

2)      I will always let you be who you are. I’ll help shape you into the person you were meant to be, not bend you or break you into a mold you were never meant to fit.

3)  There is always grace.

4)      Music and dancing are always allowed and encouraged—at the dinner table and otherwise.

There will be more to come. But until then, little one, you are always in my heart and never far from my mind.

All My Love-

Mom