Amazing Love

The sad truth is that the busier I get the more I have to ponder and discuss with all of you, yet the less time I have to ponder and discuss. Just a few high points of the last few days:

In one 24-hour period it became necessary to explain circumcision AND suppositories to my children. Both explanations were met with equal looks of horror. No transcripts of the explanations are available. You'll have to do your own tap-dancing.

Riley has been sick so I have been working from home. So, that's supposed to be so glorious and convenient, right? Um, not so much. Reminded me of the cartoon I recently saw where 2 men are talking and one is staring at his cell phone saying, "Thanks to modern technology, I can hate my job from anywhere." (I do NOT hate my job, BBBS family -- just illustrating a point!) So, it's SO handy to be on the phone with my supervisor as we discuss that someone else needs us to accomplish the humanly impossible in the next 7 days while you hear Riley wretching in the background. And I also realized -- you can't leave your house and be done! It's always mocking you from your computer screen. Even now, it is, I promise!

I made yet another internet friend. I confess I used to think chat room people were such losers. A blog friendship is far more sophisticated, don't you think? :-) For the sake of this discussion, let's say 'yes'! :-) So I meandered over to Matt's blog -- simply because he made mention of The Chuck Wagon Gang, an unrivaled, unparalleled Gospel group as you can only imagine by their catchy name. I have really enjoyed getting to know Matt via his blog. This week he explained why one of his son's open adoption is SO open. Basically, there's just too much love in it to keep it quiet. What a precious, precious story. The following is from Matt's blog. Read, enjoy, and be blessed:

I will never forget when I first met Isaac not quite seven years ago. We
were coming off a failed adoption, and our agency had set us up with Isaac’s
birthmother without us realizing that they were going to do so. Lela wanted to
meet her and her baby, but I was against it. Frankly, I was too hurt from what
had just happened, but I acquiesced purely out of respect for my wife’s wishes.
We drove to the home where they were staying, met the birthmom, and held this
tiny sleeping baby boy. I’d like to tell you that I fell in love with him
immediately; that I knew instantly that God had provided this child for us, but
that wouldn’t be honest. The truth is that I was bitter that the first situation
hadn’t panned out, and I wasn’t interested in being burned again. When we left
their house, I told Lela, “This just isn’t going to work out.” I went back to
work and didn’t give the situation another thought all day.

I wish I could pretty up this part of the story, but I can’t. I had a
long day at work. I didn’t leave my office until probably eight that night, and
then I gave Lela a call on the cell phone to let her know I was on my way. When
she picked up, her tearful voice said, “Hello?” I knew at that moment that
although I hadn’t thought about the situation all day, it was clear that Lela
had thought of nothing else. She said, “This woman just wants to do what’s best
for her little boy, and she’s chosen us. How can we not seriously consider
this?” My heart began to soften, and we spent the next few days praying, seeking
counsel, and gathering information. We even went back to visit Isaac again.

When his birthmother said, “I want him to have a mama and a daddy,” my
heart was almost convinced. But here’s what got me – this woman looked at her
difficult background, her current chaotic situation, and the bleak future she
had to offer this little boy, and she said this:

“I just want one of us to make it out of here.”

Enough said. Isaac came to live with us on October 19, 1998, when he was
six weeks old.

Now understand this -- this woman didn’t give us a gift; she gave Isaac a gift. She didn’t do it out of love for childless couples; she did it out of love for Isaac. Lela & I are merely the beneficiaries of this woman’s immense, sacrificial love for her little boy. So tell me, why on earth would I want to keep her story a secret from him? It is one of two stories that define who he is. The other story, of course, is about another parent – a father, this time – who sacrificed his son. But you already know about that one, I believe.

Tomorrow, we celebrate Isaac’s story again; we honor his birthmother’s love once more. We’ll be driving a couple of hours to meet her as we do twice each year. We’ll eat together, catch up, deliver lots of new Isaac photos and snapshots, and we’ll get a chance to say “thank you” yet another time. But mostly, we’ll just
watch her watch him play. And we’ll marvel, as we do after each visit, at how
she ever mustered up the strength to perform such a loving, sacrificial act on
behalf of her son.

Amazing love! How can it be?

A quick follow-up to my last post:
*Saturday’s visit with Isaac’s birthmother went well. She brought presents
for all three of our kids (as she always does). We had lunch together and
watched the kids get sweaty on the Chick-Fil-A playground for a half hour or so.
The most common question we hear about these visits in particular is, “How does
Isaac do with it?” The answer is that this is normal life for him. We’ve been
doing these twice-a-year visits since he was just a few months old, so it’s the
definition of no big deal at this point. If it becomes a big deal for him later,
we’ll re-evaluate at that time.
*I came downstairs Saturday night and saw Seth sitting at the kitchen table
coloring. He looked up at me and said in his patented matter-of-fact way, “Hey,
Dad – Mom’s my birthmother.” I’m glad we cleared that up. :-)