Our Story

**Recently Updated on 2/7/15**
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Collier Family Adoption Update

Collier Family Adoption Update:

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Friday, October 31, 2014

I Felt Like It.

It was ...**shudder**... that time of the month!

Which, naturally, meant that everything going wrong suddenly seemed way, way worse!

And at 6:24 pm, I looked at my husband and said, "Oh! I  haven't even cooked dinner yet!"

And he said, "I know!  What are you making?"

And I wailed, "I don't know!!!!!!!"

He kindly tried to help by saying, "Well, honey, what do you feel like?"

And I replied a tad dramatically, "What do I feel like?

WHAT DO I FEEL LIKE?

I FEEL LIKE DISAPPEARING FOR ETERNITY INTO A ROOM WITH LOTS OF PILLOWS AND A BOOK!"

He smiled.

"And chocolate."

Sniff, sniff.

He lovingly produced a carton of ice cream, a sauce pan for a bowl, and a wooden spoon.  Then, goodies in hand, he escorted me to our bedroom and handed me Jane Eyre.  He shut the door, went downstairs, and grilled burgers.

Sigh.

I have a wonderful husband.


(This is awesomeness right here!)



I enjoyed by Neapolitan ice cream and British romance, but I must admit...as the troops tromped up the stairs to get ready for tuck-in time, I started to fell awful.  As nice as it was to indulge myself a little, I had also missed out on some high quality family time.

:(

And, honestly, regret is usually (okay, always) the outcome whenever I do something because I feel like it.

Emotions are powerful.

Emotions are created by God.

Emotions are given to us for a reason.

But that reason is NOT to motivate or determine our actions.

A wise woman named Melissa Spencer said that our emotions are meant to signal us that there's a problem.  but they shouldn't determine how we address the problem.

Think of a class full of elementary students.  When the fire alarm goes off, it signals to the children that there is a problem.  If the alarm itself motivated or determined the actions of the students, they would:

-scream

-yell

-run

-cry

It would be pandemonium!

But instead, they look to their teacher to tell them what it means and how they should respond, and the teacher tells them to walk quietly out of the building in single file because there is danger.

That's what we're supposed to do.  When our emotions send us a signal, we're supposed to look to our Teacher to see what we need to do.

At the end of a recent sermon, Pastor Gebhards gave us three words:

FEELING

THOUGHT

TRUTH

Pastor G said that the only thing on this list that should motivate or determine our actions is the last one:  TRUTH.

Why?

Because my feelings will deceive me.

Because my thoughts will deceive me.

Because my thoughts and my feelings are mine.

The Bible says, The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked.  Jeremiah 17:9

And, "My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts," says the LORD.  "And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine."  Isaiah 55:8

But truth comes from God.

John 14:6:  Jesus told him, "I am the way, the truth, and the life.  No one can come to the Father except through me."  

So what does all this mean?

When I find myself feeling scared or angry or sad or hopeless or out of control, then I need to realize that is a signal that something is wrong.  In me.  I need to go to my Teacher, and figure out what Truth of His applies to the situation at hand.  I need to go to the One who gave me Scripture, and figure out what God wants to change in me.  Because if there's a change that needs to be made, it's going to be in my heart.

Do I need compassion?  Faith? Joy? Peace? Selflessness?

What does God want to change in me?

Then, whatever it is, I need to act it out even if I don't feel like it.

Because it's truth, from God.

And when I trust, and when I obey, then God will meet me and give me proper motivation and appropriate emotion.

Author Linda Dillow puts it this way:  God does give us motivation, God does give us feelings, but usually they come as a result of our obedience to Him.  We must first make a decision of the will and then act, stepping out in obedience to God.  God promises He is at work within us, doing His part.  And that's exciting!  

It WORKS!

I promise.

Not that I'm great at it.

But when I get it,

I GET IT!

I get compassion and faith and joy and peace and selflessness and a whole slew of other things that are gifts from God himself.

I am visual.

So this is what I have had to do.  I have had to write down on paper every worry I have about our adoption.  And then, underneath, I list the Truth from Scripture breathed by God that needs to drown out the emotions shouting and screaming worldly lies to me.

-paperwork delays

And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.  For God knew his people in advance, and he chose them to become like his Son, so that his Son would be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.  Romans 8:28-29

-worries about girls' safety

Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.  1 Peter 5:7

-financial obstacles

And this same God who takes care of me will supply all from his glorious riches, which have been given to us in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:19

-persecution

Be strong and courageous.  Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the LORD your God who goes with you.  He will not leave you or forsake you.  Deuteronomy 31:6

-self doubt

He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless.  Even youths will become weak and tired, and young men will fall in exhaustion.  But those who trust in the LORD will find new strength.  They will soar high on wings like eagles.  They will run and not grow weary.  They will walk and not faint.  Isaiah 40:29-31

-discouragement

Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you.  Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.  Matthew 11:28-30

-worry

I am leaving you with a gift--peace of mind and heart.  And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give.  So don't be troubled or afraid.  John 14:27

-concern over political state in the girls' country

"For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD.  "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."  Jeremiah 29:11

When I do this, God will change me.  But I can't give up.  I can't stop after one try or two or three, I must keep persevering, giving it 100% until change happens.

And above all, I must remember this:

John 16:33  I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me.  Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows.  but take heart, because i have overcome the world.  John 16:33

PS I took a break half way through this post to pick up my son, and this song was on the radio.  In the words of my husband, "If you're a Christian, you can't believe in coincidences!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D7JTx1ScD-w&spfreload=10

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Hypocrites, Crime Rates, and the NFL Draft: A Lesson in Remembrance


When “practicing” for our home study visits (oh, dear, yes—I felt the need to have rehearsals), Marc and I asked each other questions that we thought our social worker might ask.  The one I anticipated (or feared) the most was this:

What is your spouse’s most annoying trait? 

I wanted to make sure I knew what Marc’s answer would be so that I wouldn't react with shock and anger in front of the social worker. 

Marc’s answer? 

My penchant for picking scabs.

Especially his. 

And, of course, he wanted to know what I thought his most annoying trait was in return. 

My answer?

His inability to remember anything unrelated to football or depressing statistics. 

Seriously. 

He can tell you every single NFL Draft hopeful’s Wonder lick score, and how many people are starving in each third world country.  He can even tell you every Browns draft pick for the last 15 years, as well as the crime rates in the United States’ top 100 most dangerous cities. 

But if you want to know where the peanut butter is, you’re sunk.  Even if I just told him five minutes ago. 

Now, please don’t think poorly of my husband.  He really can’t help it.  And I do believe that he tries his best; he just wasn't born with an instinctual Uterine-shaped tracking device.  And I bring this up only to illustrate how absolutely hypocritical I can be. 

See, just today, I forgot. 

I forgot about God’s goodness.

Psalm 34:8:  Taste and see that the Lord is good.  Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him!

I forgot about His Sovereignty.

Psalm 73:28:  But as for me, how good it is to be near God! I have made the Sovereign Lord my shelter, and I will tell everyone about the wonderful things you do.

I forgot about His Promise to stay with us.

Deuteronomy 31:8: Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you.

I forgot about His Presence.

Isaiah 41:10:  Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.  Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.

I forgot about His Promise to work things for His good.

Romans 8:28:  And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.

I even forgot about His Love.

John 3:16:  For this is how God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.

And I forget these things all the time. 

Today, it was a failed international wire transfer that made me forget the characteristics of God. 

The silliest thing is, He had just given me a wonderful reminder not an hour earlier. 
I left our house after lunch with a long list of errands.  The first was to head off to the library to print off some adoption documents and tutoring lesson plans.  We have a printer, but I have been unable to hook it up to our refurbished laptop.  (Hopefully, by the time I post this, that problem has been remedied.) 

Anyways…

I printed my stack of papers and went to the front desk to pay my two dollars and ten cents.  The librarian, a sweet woman who is always very quick to help, apologized for not putting my random papers in order. 

I told her it was okay, that I was printing a little bit of everything—from vocabulary worksheets to adoption forms. 

“Oh!  Are you adopting your little boys?” she asked excitedly. 

“No, we’re adding two girls.” 

She asked me questions for almost twenty minutes, sharing in my excitement and passion.  She told me of her son, who was adopted at age three and who defied so many odds to become a successful adult and a soon-to-be college graduate.  She became enraged as I told her of the conditions in our daughters’ birth country.  And she encouraged me to look past my children’s disabilities and to set my goals and hopes and dreams high so that my children can set theirs high, too. 

I walked away so encouraged. 

Seventy-two minutes later, I was grousing on the phone to my husband because of a wasted hour at the bank, another delay, and three things un-crossed off my to-do list.  (Oh, the terror!) 

I forgot. 

God reminded me several hours later when I received a phone call that not only cleared up some financial concerns but also hit me smack in the face with God’s goodness.

His Sovereignty. 

His Promises. 

His Presence. 

His Love. 

The Bible hosts scores of top rate forgetters.  Possibly the most famous, mainly because they numbered into the millions, were the Israelites. 

Blood.

Frogs.

Gnats.

Flies.

Livestock.

Boils.

Hail.

Locusts.

Darkness.

Death.

Finally, Freedom. 

But the pharaoh changes his mind and comes charging after the Israelites.  Troops,  chariots, and horses come pounding through the dry sand in hot pursuit.

The Israelites are trapped between impassible water and mortal enemies. 

As their vision narrows in on their problem, they forget about the obvious solution:

God. 

Not just any God.

THE God, who JUST got finished sending ten insanely, unnaturally natural signs that showed His great love and mercy for His chosen people.

In Exodus fourteen, the people complain to Moses, saying, “Why did you bring us out here to die in the wilderness?  Weren't there enough graves for us in Egypt?  Why did you make us leave?”  

(Duh! You were mistreated slaves!) 

And Moses responds, “Don’t be afraid.  Just stand where you are and watch the Lord rescue you.  The Egyptians that you see today will never be seen again.  The Lord himself will fight for you.  You won’t have to lift a finger in your defense!” 

I think my wonderful friend, Lynda, paraphrased Moses best, when she said, “Shut up and get out of the way!  God’s got this!” 

She would know.  She’s walking with her husband through his second battle with cancer.  And the confidence she displays in the Creator and the Savior astounds me.  She has not forgotten.


(Lynda and her husband, Allen)


Thank You, Father, for teaching me, for redeeming my weaknesses and failures through spiritual, life changing victories.  I love you.  Help me to remember. 

Amen. 

Isaiah 46:9:  And do not forget the things I have done throughout history.  For I am God—I alone!  I am God, and there is no one else like me. 

P.S.  An update on the wire transfer…Since our bank could not do it, I was told to try a bigger bank.  I literally drove downtown and pulled into the tallest bank building I could find.  And upon entering, I headed to the first open banker:  A woman who just so happens to speak Russian.  Which is the language in which half of my paperwork happens to be written.   A woman who offered to help us out with our Russian before and after our adoption is made final.  Shut up, Becky, and get out of the way!  GOD’S GOT THIS!   

Friday, October 3, 2014

Knowing


So, I’m a bit of a control freak.  And THAT may be a bit of an understatement.  I can cite several instances of DNA or situational evidence to show why I am that way, but for now, I will entertain you with a story of an airplane trip. 

I hate flying.

HATE IT. 

See, I was in a couple car accidents (I’m not a very good driver) shortly after marrying my main man, and they kind of made me understand what it means to have absolutely no control over my life.  I came very close to dying twice, but managed to walk away unscathed.  And once again, those are stories for another post.  However, despite God’s amazing deliverance from those two accidents, my faith in God did not grow; instead, I became even more fearful. 

So…here I was, several months later, flying to visit my sister in North Carolina.  She herself had just been in a car accident, and she didn't want to drive back to Ohio alone.  So, naturally, I went to be a "comfort."  Me.  Who had to close my eyes and go to a "happy place" every time she  got in a car.  Who refused to drive on four lane highways and barely survived riding on them.  What was I thinking?

Anyways....the first flight was from Columbus to Cleveland.  Yes, I know.  I went north to go south.  But it was cheap.  It was raining, and the plane was one of those tiny things that had one seat on one side of the aisle and two on the other.  I was on the two seater side, sitting next to a pretty, blonde business woman.

We lifted off.

It was horrible.

It started to thunder, and every boom shook our little plane.

With every boom, I grabbed the pretty blonde lady's leg and yelled in terror.

She was very comforting.

Thank goodness she didn't sue me.

Then, it started lightning.

Oy.  I was sure it would hit the wing.

I kept asking the lady, "Should we let the pilot know about the storm?"

And she would say, "I'm sure he sees it, honey."

"But are you sure?  I just need to know he sees it."

"I'm sure, dear.  Now could you let go?  I think you've given me a run in my panty hose."

"Oh.  Sorry."  

I guarantee you it was the longest forty-five minutes of my life.

And of hers.

And I think we all could have saved ourselves the hassle if they just would have let me talk to the pilot.  I needed to know for sure that he was aware of the storm.

There’s something else I don’t know for sure, something that plagues me at every physical and at every doctor’s appointment I've ever gone to.  When a woman fills out paper work at a doctor’s office, there are a series of questions she is asked about her health.  They want to know past surgeries, allergies, shot records, and on and on and on.  Eventually, they ask her how many pregnancies she’s had, and how many children she’s given birth to.  Those are the questions that are hard for me to answer, because I don’t know. 

How can I not know? 

Well, the story goes like this. 

Marc and I had been married just over a year when I started bleeding, kind of like that woman in Luke 8.  This was the second time it had happened.  The first time, Marc and I had been engaged, and after about 20 days of it, I went to the doctor, who told me my hormones were imbalanced, I had a cyst, and birth control would fix it all.  I went on the birth control, the bleeding stopped, and I became Cruella Devil.  No dogs were killed in my brief time as an out of control psycho woman, but I did not at all like the way I felt and acted.  So as soon as the problem was resolved, I went off the birth control. 

When the bleeding started the second time, I called my doctor to let her know that I was having the same problem.  She was busy, and stressed, and overbooked.  So instead of scheduling an appointment, she just called in a prescription for more birth control. 

Here’s the worst part.  I was busy, and stressed, and overbooked too.  So I didn't question her decision.  The symptoms were the same, so I imagined it was the same problem.  I was too busy to stop and think that one major thing in my life was different—one major thing that I should have brought to the doctor’s attention, that may have changed her mind about my situation. 

I was now sexually active. 

Which meant there was a possibility I could be pregnant. 

 I ordered the pills, started taking them, and the bleeding didn't stop. 

I called the doctor.  She said not to worry; it may take a while. 

Thirty days turned to forty-five, turned to sixty.

I called again. 

Give it another month. 

But I’d really like an appointment. 

I don’t have room in my schedule.  Call me if it doesn't stop after another month. 

Okay. 

Eighty days. 

On day eighty-five, I woke up in excruciating pain.  Not constant, but about every three minutes I would be doubled over, fighting to breathe.  It would ease, then come again.  I tried to go to work, but an hour in I had to call my grandpa to take me home.  He wisely took me to my mom’s house, and I called my doctor.  She still didn't want to see me.  I went upstairs to the bathroom I had used thousands of times in my childhood, sat down on the toilet and stared into the mirror as I had done every day multiple times until I had moved out of their house and in with my husband. As I braced myself against the white and gold Formica counter top, I passed the largest blood clot I had ever seen, and the pain stopped.

I didn't know what it meant.  But I knew I was really sick. 

I called another doctor, and he said that I needed to be seen immediately. 

My husband was off work by then, and drove me to his office.  I checked in, and they called me back right away. 

How long has the bleeding been going on?  How long have you been on birth control?  Are you sexually active?  Did you take a pregnancy test before taking the birth control?

No. 

He sent me straight to the hospital to do a pregnancy test. 

The results were inconclusive. 

What does that mean?

That means you’re not pregnant now. 

Was I pregnant? 

The numbers aren’t such that we can confirm you were pregnant. 

So I wasn’t pregnant?

We can’t confirm that either. 

They did what they called a pharmaceutical DNC, and gave me lots and lots of iron pills and pain pills and other things to get me through the next few days.  I did eventually stop bleeding, right about the time the questions started swirling in my brain. 

Did I have a miscarriage? 

Did I deliver a baby in the bathroom of my parent’s house? 

No one seemed to be able to answer those questions. 

For almost eight years, I have wondered and agonized over those questions. 

And I have no answer. 

How do you grieve the loss of a child that you aren't sure ever existed? 

How do you forgive yourself for contributing to the murder of an innocent baby if you aren't sure it ever happened? 

I wanted someone to tell me.  I wanted someone to give me 100% assurance that I was or wasn't pregnant.  But no one could.  Or, maybe no one wanted to. 

There’s so much I don’t know.

But I do know this. 

My God loves me, and my God has the power to redeem even the most awful parts of my life. 

Nine months ago, God seared the faces of two little girls into my heart.  He softened the callous, insensitive corners of my soul and I cried out to Him in anguish as I grieved the loss of innocence, as I grieved the pain and suffering those two girls were being forced to endure. 

And over the last eight months, God has called my husband and me to be their parents. 

About four months ago, I realized that God was working big things in our lives, and I wanted to write it down.  I wanted to be able to set up a memorial that would remind me of all the little but yet so big ways God was actively forming and shaping our lives to take on this huge and awesome responsibility.  As I did so, I was stunned and awed when I realized that my “miscarriage-or-not” was about 9 months before the births of those two little girls.  They would be the same age as the child I may or may not have had. 

I could not grieve the loss of a child I did not know existed. 

But God gave me the opportunity to grieve anyways, this time for two little girls who were definitely alive and who definitely needed a mommy and a daddy. 

And not only has God given me the opportunity to grieve, but I believe that in His unfathomable goodness, He will give me a time to dance. 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 says, “There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die.  A time to plant and a time to harvest.  A time to kill and a time to heal.  A time to tear down and a time to rebuild.  A time to cry and a time to laugh.  A time to grieve and a time to dance.” 

I do not deserve God’s forgiveness.  I do not deserve to be a mother.  I put my life and my plans ahead of the safety and well being of a child whose existence I didn't have time to contemplate.  But God forgave me anyways.  And God gave me children anyways, first two boys that have captured my heart and now two girls who will teach me how to find joy and redemption.  Two girls who will teach me how to dance. 

Let me leave you with the words of Psalm 107: 1-2, 41-43:

“Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good!  His faithful love endures forever.  Has the LORD redeemed you?  Then speak out!  Tell others he has saved you from your enemies…he rescues the poor from their distress and increases their families like vast flocks of sheep.  The godly will see these things and be glad…Those who are wise will take all this to heart; they will see in our history the faithful love of the LORD.”