Don't forget the important things, mom!

Picture this.  I pulled into the garage tonight and looked behind me to see my sweet son Silas sleeping. (How do you like that alliteration?!)  I carried him inside and he slept through the first part of me changing him into pajamas.  Getting the shirt over his head woke him up though, and he was half aware as I put him in bed.  But he snuggled up to his pillow, I wrapped his blanket around him, and started to leave the room.  He immediately stood up, folded his hands together, and said, "pray?"

I could melt right there.  Yes, buddy, I will pray with you!

I love this little guy so much.  And even though I don't think he understands who we are praying to besides what we read in picture books, I am thankful that he loves our nightly tradition.

If you want to know who he most likes to pray for, as in he says their names repeatedly as I pray...it's daddy and our dog Bella.  Actually, I think Bella might have a slight win over daddy.

We have also been known to pray spontaneously during the day when something comes to mind.  We take requests if you want to send them!  God loves the prayers of children, right?

A Total God Thing

I noticed tonight that Silas had some greenish-yellow discharge coming out of his eyes.  I wiped it really good, and watched to see if it would reappear.  It did.  I had a strong feeling that it was pink eye.  So we ate dinner (late by the time we got home from an appointment) and then packed up a bag of toys, diapers, wipes, and water to take to Prompt Care. A third of the way there I realized I was wearing slippers.  Oops.  And oh well.  Silas feel asleep in the car, and I was thinking about how I was messing up his night of sleep, and wishing I could just go to his pediatrician, who I trust much more than other doctors.  Just sayin' - sometimes they misdiagnose him.

I got to Prompt Care at 7:26, and they had closed at 7:00.  Nothing else I could do, but wait until tomorrow, and take him to his pediatrician.  But since I was near a large chain store that I hate (those who know me well know which one it is!), I broke down and went there, so I could at least get him a cold mist humidifier, in hopes that it would help him feel better.

Guess who was ringing the Salvation Army Bell?  HIS PEDIATRICIAN!!!  Can you even believe that?  He recognized me and asked how we were doing.  I sighed and said, "Well, we just went to Prompt Care and they are closed."  He asked what was going on and I replied that I was hoping he didn't have pink eye.  He said "let me take a look," and quickly confirmed it.  He asked if I just wanted to treat it there, and my wonderful pediatrician introduced me to his family and then walked up to the pharmacy and wrote a prescription for Silas!

Now, I knew I had the best pediatrician in town, but seriously?!?  It would have been completely acceptable for him to say, "if it's not better in the morning, come see me."  But no.  He really cares about his patients.  

And just in case I was wondering if God was concerned with my life details...he is.  I mean really, that encounter tonight could not have been more perfect for our need.

What a gift

Tonight, Silas thought he was just being silly by putting a bow on his head.  But I immediately saw it as symbolic.  He is such a wonderful gift to us.

Friday was the last court date.  It was very emotional for me, I sat there and cried.  I wish his birth parents could be at a place where they could parent him.  But I am also incredibly thankful for the life they have given us.

The next time we go to court will be for his adoption.  That hasn't really set in yet.

What a journey this has been.  Even as I reflect on going to court, I see changes.  The first time we went, we weren't sure which floor we were going to, and certainly not which court room.  And we wondered which items of clothing may need to be temporarily removed to make it through security.  Oh, and I had my camera in my purse because I always kept it in there, and didn't even think of cameras being allowed. Micah literally ran back and put it in the parking garage, and then ran back to the court building, and then up the stairs so he wouldn't be late.  

Since then we have figured out that court typically runs late, and there is not usually a reason to hurry.  Every time, I have pulled into the parking garage no earlier than five minutes before court is scheduled to start (usually only 2 minutes), parked in the same general area, gone down the same stairway that I think is the fastest route, quickly thrown my purse in a tub and gotten through security like a pro, gotten in one of the elevators that only go to courtroom floors (they're faster!), and known that I am always going to sit on a bench and chat with everyone involved for probably at least 20 minutes, before they are ready for us in that same court room.

Somehow, going there has become a normal thing.  I used to get so nervous the day before, and especially the morning of, wondering what would happen, and if it would be awkward to spend that time outside the court room talking.  But gradually, through the many times I've gone (I have no idea how many!) it became a hangout time in which we laughed about the kids and told stories, both "sides" talking like we were out having lunch, not there to hear the judge's current decision on the kids we daily worry about, and pray, and hope for.  It has felt kind of like a family, or at least a social group...with the foster parents of Silas' siblings, his birth parents, and birth grandparents.  We saw each other often.  Not just at court, but when the foster moms came to pick the kids up from weekly visits.  And now I don't know.  We exchanged contact information, and I am thankful.

It seems weird, almost unnatural, that's it's over.  At the kids' last visit with their birth mother, I was walking Silas up the sidewalk to the agency.  He was holding my hand, almost running toward the door because it is a fun place for him.  It's where he sees his birth family, and runs and plays and laughs with them.  Going there every week for his entire life is what he knows.  Will he wonder why he's not going back?  To him, it is totally normal to go down that long hallway and spend two hours playing in a room, with toys we don't have at our house, and siblings that don't live at our house.  It's his normal!

We will have scheduled sibling visits two times a month until adoption. (We want to have them at our homes, so the kids can see where each other live.)  After that, it's up to us to get the kids together, with no accountability besides ourselves.  I hope we do it.  Life gets so busy, but it is so important for the kids.  I love watching them play together.  They have an obvious bond.

Well, I intended to just post that picture and write a couple sentences, but I guess my heart and soul had more to say.  I never thought that I would need healing through this, that I wouldn't want this process to end.  I mean, I do want to adopt him, I long for the freedom in adoption.  But I never really understood how I'd feel at this point.  Kind of raw.  I always knew I cared about Silas' birth parents, but now I think it is hitting me hard that no one is controlling how often we'll see each other.  Or even if we will.  That feels so odd, after months and months of rules and regulations.  I don't remember anyone training us how to handle this emotional part of the journey.

This is it.

Soon both of his birth parents will not have their rights.  One was today, the other parent's hearing is in a couple weeks.  It’s not finished yet.  But it will be.  And then we will travel the adoption road.

Other big news…

We are changing his name.

Why?  Well, honestly, we’ve never really liked it.  I’m sure his birth parents had a reason for naming him, but I don’t know it, and now we have our own reason for his new name.

We’ve battled with ourselves these past few weeks. We have prayed, thought, and searched for the right name.  It’s been hard because everyone in his life calls him “D_____,” including us.  It seems kind of weird to call him something else.  But he is young (if he were older we would not do it), and our caseworker says that many kids even a few years older than him are given new names when they are adopted through foster care, and they adjust fine.  We’ve called him his new name the past few days and he doesn’t even seem to notice a difference.  It almost seems too easy.  He just answers to either name.

Part of the struggle for me has been that I want his name to mean something.  It is very important to me.  Everyone in a person’s life calls them that name, and whether they know it or not, are therefore calling them the definition of that name.  I want my children to have positive things spoken over them.  My cousin named her adopted son "Asher" which means happy and blessed, and let me tell you that kid is always smiling!  

So do you want to know his name?  Maybe you even skimmed ahead and scrolled down to find it?  I would. :) When Micah and I were first married, long before we headed down the road to parenthood, we talked about names we liked.  Silas is the name we always liked the best.

Silas means “wooded forest” and although I really like the name, I’ve struggled with it because it doesn’t mean anything encouraging or special. Something wasn’t quite right.  I wanted more.  I kept searching online, in my Bible, and in old sermon notes for a middle name to go with it, or for a totally different first name.  Then I found Winston.  It means “joyful stone.” Joyful obviously means “full of joy” and I like the stone aspect because stones, like rocks, are strong.  Apostle Peter (my favorite apostle because he just seems so human, as he messed up like I do!) was called “the rock.”  What a beautiful concept, a picture of God’s grace.

The most exciting connection is when his first and middle name are put together, the meanings, “wooded forest, joyful stone.”  As I was thinking about trees and stones, I was reminded of the verses where even nature praises God.  In Isaiah 55:12 it says,

“For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace…and all the trees of the fields shall clap their hands.”

And in Luke 19:40, when the disciples were loudly praising Jesus and the Pharisees told Jesus to rebuke them, he replied,

“I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”

Here’s another verse that connects the trees of “Silas” with the joy of “Winston.”  Psalm 96:12 “Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them; let all the trees of the forest sing for joy.”

Silas Winston Stickling, we hope your whole being will long to cry out praises to Jesus!

As I was looking for these verses I ran across many symbolic verses that have to do with rocks and trees.  It’s pretty cool, really.

Oh, the many hours spent searching for the right name, and it’s finally come together.  I’m so excited!

There are some other connections/things we appreciate:

*Silas was a missionary with Paul.  There is quite a cool story in Acts 16 where Paul and Silas were in prison because they proclaimed the Truth, and through a series of miraculous events were released.  It is exciting to read, “About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them.  Suddenly…” And that’s when all the action started happening that led to them ministering to a jailer and his family, and Paul and Silas later being released from prison.  How wonderful will it be for Silas to grow up and read this story with his namesake, and make his own connection that praising Jesus (in good OR rough times) leads to great things!

*Silas is a family name on Micah’s side. 

*Micah likes the reference to Silas Marner, which is a book that has a story of redemption coming through an adoptive child.  (I need to read the book now!)

*We appreciate Winston Churchill, for leading Great Britain through World War II.

*If we really want to stretch it, our little guy has always liked being outside, ever since his first summer, when he was six months old and we played outside while he sat on a blanket.  Now he runs around outside, picks up and digs in dirt and rocks, “helps” water flowers, gets down on eye level with bugs to explore what they are doing…it is definitely a place he is happy to be!  He’s just an outside kid, so in that way his name is fitting as well.

Best "no face" pic I can find from playing outside last summer.  Doesn't he look tiny?

The adoption is still a few months away, but you may now start calling him Silas!

Thank you all for your support in this journey.

Sand, stain, repeat, sand, polyurethane, repeat

I just finished working on these.  Two coats of stain down, 

two coats of polyurethane to go!

Here's my finished pile, with the "to do" pile on the right.

Wow, all my hours working this summer and it doesn't seem like I've accomplished much!  The doors are my least favorite, because of the design that takes more time to cover, and also because when I've finished four coats of really smelly fumes, I am reminded that in 24 hours I get to flip the door over and start on the other side!

BUT...I am happy that I can help, since Micah has done so much in our basement.  Sometimes my iPod and I have a pretty good time working, singing and praying as I work.  Some of you have gotten much prayed over you as a result of this remodeling.

 Sanding is serious work!

I guess when I look at this "old" finished pile, 

I can see that there has been a little bit of progress.

I wonder if that's how God feels when he's

working on us and our imperfections?

 Before that we primed...

 and had to get creative in using every last drop!

 We painted with the help of Micah's dad...

and our little man!

So that's the update.  I have now become realistic since we're doing most of this ourselves and end up only having 1 or 2 full days that Micah can work on the basement each month...I'm thinking the goal for a finish date is Christmas?!?

To be honest...

So I was just looking through the past few blog posts and realized it does not show the heartache that has been in my life.  There's been a lot, really, but some is too private to share or it would make others look bad, so this is not the place to vent.  I do that in my prayer journals.  Of course, if I keep up with my past, those journals could be published someday.  Scary!


But I do want to be real with you, as much as I can.  I have been scared, and angry, and WORRIED, and jealous, and stressed to the point that my body ached; for awhile it hurt to even move my neck.  That is crazy.  Right, it's crazy?!  This summer has been good for me.  It's given me time to reflect, and to think about changes I need to make.


Across settings of distress, I have a theme.  I put way too much emotional energy into worrying about things I cannot control.  It could be others' actions, or deadlines, or health, or perceptions, or timing, whatever.  I've decided to take two phrases to heart, and I think I'll type them up to go above my desk.


* If I can't control it, it just doesn't matter.
Not that I don't care, but it doesn't matter because I can't do anything to change it.  So don't worry.  I got this from a talk Ron Schweinberg gave to our district a few months ago, and it has stuck.


* Is it worth it?
Is the time/effort/emotional energy I would put into something worth the benefits it would reap?  If yes, then think about doing it.  If not, just let it go!
It can be really hard for me to say no, especially at my job.  This next school year I'm going to practice that word more.  Many times it's not even in response to a request from a person. I set such high expectations for myself that I just keep working and working in my perfectionistic way, until my life is my job, and I am so exhausted when I'm home that I can't function.  That is going to change!


There are a few loose pieces of paper that are in my Bible, and have been there for years.  When something really hits me hard, I write it on one of those papers.  I went through them this morning and was reminded of some things worth remembering!  When my dad was a pastor he used to call these "gold nuggets."


The more comfort we have, the less faith we have. (from missionaries at an orphanage in Romania)


God says, "You let me worry about ______.  You just be faithful."  (pastor Dave)


If I'm living in a fog, I haven't gone as far as God wanted me to go...sometimes because I haven't repented. (pastor Dave)


Trade these ashes in for beauty - this is a song, but I wrote down to "trade in my complaining words for words of life and beauty."


Worship is supposed to be a sacrifice.  David said, "I will not give my God something that costs me nothing."  (This one made it into my journal recently, just from memory.  I asked God why I like to do foster care and teach special education children, when both take so much out of me emotionally.  I'm thinking it's because for me, both are a form of worshipping God, so they both cost me much emotionally.)


Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again. Psalm 71:20


Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD. Psalm 27:14


Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary.  They will walk and not be faint.  Isaiah 40:30-31


My times are in your hands. Psalm 31:15


I hope at least one of those "nuggets" encouraged you.  Sometimes during trials I feel like I am clinging to Jesus, not loving him really, but just clinging because I need him to get through a rough time.  I want to love him all the time, not just when I  feel that I need him the most.

Barefoot before breakfast

Micah likes to make a big breakfast on Saturday mornings.  Today D and I decided to go outside and play with his new bike while daddy was cooking.  I got it at a yard sale yesterday for $5 - so excited because I've been looking for one that was small enough for him!  And I'm ch...frugal.

 This is how the pros do it.

 Seriously, isn't this a cool old bike?

 Mommy, I really want to water the flowers right now!

 I want to turn the hose on so bad that I'm willing to 

sit in mulch to figure out how to do it!

Snuggling in for kisses from "Bewa."

I won't lie and say that life is always this peachy.  We have hitting, hair-pulling, refusing...he is definitely an active toddler.  But I sure love him.  And I can't wait until I can show you pictures of his precious face.  There are some real cuties of him smiling, leaning on Bella today.

Coming soon...a post about what I do when he is asleep!  It has to do with our basement remodel.  Micah is banging down there as I type.