.God Writes THE BEST Stories.

I wasn't going to write, because I have already been gushing all over facebook all day long. I am obnoxious like that. But I couldn't stay away from here either. The place where so much of this story has tumbled out of my heart. The space where I shared my hopes, dreams, and prayers with you all. I feel like shouting to the world this story, and what God did. This morning in a little courtroom in NY state, with some of the people who love us best, our family made history, and God did what we were told over and over and over could never happen. He did what we had been told for three years was impossible. He did what has never been done before in the United States. He pulled out all of the stops, and showed His power in a way that will leave me breathless for the rest of my life. Today Habi became our legal, official son through the miracle (and it truly was that) of adoption.

There are so many details that we have hidden away to protect our Habi. While what we have shared of this story is miraculous enough, all of the other little details added in, the huge hurdles that God had to break down to get us to this point, the number of doors He had to crash open that had been tightly shut, it is all more than I can even comprehend. I know that for the past three years we have stood inside of a move of God, and it was HUGE, supernatural, and mind-boggling. As I sit here in the quiet, my mind flipping through all of the events that have taken place to get here, it doesn't seem real. Everything that had to happen was so perfectly timed out and orchestrated by a loving, creative, Author. There is no way that we could have scripted this. I told Jim that it feels as if we are in a movie. And it does, because this just does not happen in real life. BUT it did happen!

The most powerful lesson that I have learned in all of this, and what I hope people see when they hear of this is that God writes the best stories. Shortly before we decided to adopt from Ethiopia, God began to work in our hearts and lives in a brand new way. A more real way, but a way in which I had to intentionally surrender the pen to Him, and allow Him to write my story. It wasn't easy for me to give up the sense of control that comforted me. None of it has been easy - not one paragraph, one page, one chapter. I haven't always done it right. I have faltered along the way, and I have questioned the story so many times. Sometimes I have not appreciated His plot line, and I have thought that I could have written it better. But God in His mercy allowed me just enough strength to not yank the pen back, and God kept scratching out this story over my life. While I do believe that if I had held on to the pen, my story would have been easier, I also know that it would not have been nearly as beautiful. I would have under-written my story. The beauty needed to be sharpened by the pain that can only come with surrender. He is strong in our weakness, and that is why I believe he chose my family for this story, because we are weak and ordinary.

Today is a huge 'ta da' life-changing moment in our story. A chapter closed with a big reveal - a movie-style ending. But what you need to know is that there has been a lot of middle to this story, and that today is not the whole story. What I want you to know is that God wants to write your story, too. Perhaps you have not yet handed Him the pen, and I want to encourage you to give it a try. Or perhaps you have, but you are inside the middle, and it is hard and lonely and painful, and it feels like it must be the end. But friend, it's not the end. He is still writing your story. He hasn't left you and closed the manuscript. The pen is still hovered over you, and He is still writing. The hard times, the moments when God is silent, the painful pages that seem to suck the life from you, they all have a purpose in your story. Don't read my ending of this chapter of my story and be discouraged thinking that God only writes stories like this for some people. The story God has for you is unique and beautiful and YOURS. Sometimes God is just writing further into the story than you have read. Be patient, wait with hope and expectation, because God writes the best stories. Trust the Author of your story. What He is writing is better than you can ever imagine.

Today this chapter in my story came to a beautiful close, but tomorrow a new chapter looms before me blank and white and ready for His pen. I am ready for the story to continue.

Here we are just after the judge declared the adoption to be final. This is our son Habtamu (his given name in Ethiopia which means "rich") Theo (which comes from the Greek word theophany which means "in the image of God" - my name Tiffany is also from this same Greek word) Byron (a family name that has been passed down through generations - all of our sons have this name).

.A Moment.

I am sitting here pecking out letters that race across my screen, and I know I should be packing instead. Because in just 17 (almost 16 now) days our family boards a plane and embarks on a new journey in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia serving street children. I am giddy about that and about all that God is inviting us into, but this moment, right now, I am even more giddy about the absolute miracle that is about to unfold tomorrow.

It was January 20, 2011, when I first laid eyes on him, and in the 1,335 days and 32,044 hours between that moment and tomorrow I have not stopped dreaming of and fighting for this very day.  It was a moment. Just one minuscule, unnoticeable to passers-by, moment, and my life and its path were forever changed. I have said it all here a thousand times a thousand different ways, but the story doesn't get old. How could it? Out of the almost 8 billion people that live in this world, out of all the millions of street boys - a woman born into luxury and comfort and a boy born into squalor and pain, an ocean apart, collided in what could only have been a God-ordained moment. And it really was only that - a moment. A few words exchanged, a few tears, a beaded bracelet and some granola bars. But that was all it took for our hearts to become entwined.

I have repeated it so many times, and it sounds crazy - even still - but I knew the moment our eyes held each others that God was up to something. I knew this child was destined to be my son, and I his mama. There were so many other boys that day. I had been tugged on, hugged, and begged from, but in that moment, I only had eyes for one.  I knew he was mine when his grubby, little hand thrust the beaded bracelet through our van window, because my heart could not contain the moment. I could not fathom another breath without knowing that this child was safe and secure, wanted and loved. Every single day since then, I have expended myself to be sure that he knows this with every fiber of his being. In that van that day, a new part of me was born, a fighter, a part of me that I did not know I possessed. Even then courage took root, and I turned to our friend, Job, and asked what was the likely hood of me adopting a street boy - that boy. He smiled at me, amused at my ignorance and naivety, and said "Oh, Tiffany, that is impossible."  And when I typically would have just backed-down, as was my nature, a fighter emerged. I nodded, and prayed, and dreamed big, and I ignored the impossible.

I ignored the impossible because I have a God who specializes in the impossible. If ever I doubt this, all I have to do is look back over these past three years and remember the way that God has smashed through the impossibles and obliterated the no's. God taught me how to stand up and to fight for justice in this journey, but the truth is that He didn't need me to do anything. He could have done this without me. All of the glory is His. The only thing I did was step into His invitation, and even in that I am pretty certain He dragged me in.

.

The day I met Habi.

Tomorrow, a miracle happens. Tomorrow, what so many people told us was impossible happens. Tomorrow that moment - the one that took place on the dusty street of Addis, comes full-circle. Tomorrow, what we were told would never happen is happening, our family stands before a judge, and my sweet, precious boy, the one that is so connected to my heart in a way that could only be supernatural, becomes my legal SON. 

Our God still preforms miracles, He is the exact same God that made the sun stand still for Joshua, and He still moves mountains to do the impossible. Tomorrow He is moving that mountain for us. This has not been an easy journey, for anyone involved. It has not been without tears and fear and heart-ache, but every single step along the way has been worth it. I would do it all over again in a heart beat.

In just a moment that boy will become mine.

[If you are new here, and don't know this story, click here.]

.We Need You: Love Mercy Project.

There is something powerful about collaboration, community, a village - it's people joined together for one purpose. When God laid it on our hearts to move our family to serve in Ethiopia, we knew that we could not do it alone. Through the processes of bringing our boys home, we learned very quickly that God uses the vulnerability and transparency of our needs in order to build up the body of Christ. We were hesitant to always share our needs,  but every single time that we did, God blessed us in huge ways. We constantly got feedback from people that they felt like they were really part of something eternal when they were given the opportunity and invitation to give. That stuck with me. I still do not quite understand it, and I still squirm about openly sharing our needs. It can be humiliating to lay it all out there, but God continually nudges us to do just that. He asks us to simply share, and then watch Him bring in fellow Kingdom builders to partner with us.

For the past three days we have been fasting and praying about our needs as Mercy Branch Inc. - specifically the financial hurdles we have to jump in order to make the big move in June happen. I went in to this reluctantly, heavy-hearted over the thought of baring our needs again. I wished to be on the giving end instead of the receiving end. But I began to realize how selfish and prideful I was being - wanting to do this on my own - when God has much bigger plans. I don't desire for Mercy Branch to be about my family and what we can do, but that is exactly what would happen if we were not transparent in inviting people in to partner with us. I wrestled with the fact that our need is great, and that we are just small, ordinary, plain people. We aren't flashy. We aren't polished. There are way better writers out there who could move people with eloquent words, better speakers who could garner instant donations, fancier websites which could attract thousands of people, professional promoters, bigger ministries with lots of leaders, more beautiful families, louder voices, etc. Our inadequacies and our normalness is pervasive, but it doesn't diminish the call, or let us off the hook. And I realize we are in good company when I notice the weak people that God used in the Bible. Perhaps it is because of our smallness that God chose us. God's bigness will be greatly magnified in our weakness. When He accomplishes this, nobody will think that we did it on our own - because they all know that we are just not capable of that. And I guess that is exactly where God wants us - groveling at His feet, realizing we cannot do this alone, reaching out to our brothers and sisters and asking for the help that we need. It is there in community that we find Jesus.

While I have often wished for an anonymous large donation to land in our mailbox so that we can neatly be on our way, I realize that this is not how God typically works in our life. God is so good at wisely nudging ordinary, simple people with a few dollars a month to share in our journey. He does this little by little, small step by small step - nothing typically grandiose with us - keeping us on our knees at His feet through the process. It seems as if that is how He desires to accomplish meeting our needs this time as well. I trust Him. I don't always like the posture He requests of me, but I trust Him in this.

So I am asking you for something big. I am asking you to partner with our family - some of you for the second or third time - as you have already partnered in the journey with our boys. It's a big ask, and it humbles me to know that people will sacrifice for my family. But I am asking, and I am praying that you see my heart in this ask. Will you hop on over to our website and learn about what our plans are in Ethiopia? Pray about whether or not this is something that you can get behind. We need your prayers and your relationship and yes, we need your dollars - even just a few dollars a month when put together with others few dollars a month, will help meet our needs {donations are tax-deductable}. This month we are launching our Love Mercy Project, and we have set some God-sized goals for February. Our board has been praying through this project and goals and so have we. We are anticipating God doing something amazing this month! When the goals are met, we will be over 50% of the way funded to move to Ethiopia! People can partner with us for any monthly dollar amount they desire, but for this month when someone chooses to become a new monthly sponsor at $30/month (or more) we will thank them with a free Mercy Branch tee-shirt! (and when you wear your tee shirt, you are sharing in our story) We also were blessed with a generous matching gift donor, so for this month when someone donates any dollar amount into our one-time need, the donation will automatically get matched - up to $5k!

We really need you. We need the people that God is writing into this story - His story. We need your voice, your prayers, your encouragement, your money, your love - we need you. Because the truth is that this will only work in community - that has always been God's desire when building the Kingdom. Some He has chosen to go and some to send, but neither is more important than the other. Both are needed, both are beautifully linked side-by-side, as we all press toward the same goal with our eyes always fixed on our King. He never asked us to do it on our own - it's impossible. We cannot go without you. There is something beautiful that happens when God's people join together to bring the mercy of Jesus to a broken world - it changes US.

Come join our Love Mercy project today, and be part of something bigger than all of us put together. The pages of this story are just waiting to be inked with your life. There is space for you.

.Dear Beautiful Bride.

I see you, beautiful Bride - yes you - the Church - the one who is preparing for her Groom to return and sweep her off of her feet and into eternal bliss. I see you. I hear the whispers and the shouts about how you are getting it all wrong, doing it all wrong, being it all wrong. I have been guilty of adding my voice to those, because you see I encountered you in a place I never expected you, and you left me breathless with your beauty. I stared at you on a Sunday morning in a tin shack in the slums - the garbage dump - of Ethiopia. You radiated beauty, so vibrant that it was blinding, and you looked so out of place in that ugly mess. Yet you looked more at home there than I had ever seen you here. Your love was overflowing, and I was captivated by it and drawn into your warmth. I swayed with your music as your lips sang out praises. You looked different in Africa. You made me hungry for more of you. You made me hungry for more of Jesus, because of you.

I came home, and I didn't know what to do with you anymore, because my face burned in shame realizing what I had been missing - because of me. I wasn't sure how to live - how to be. I missed the you in Africa, and I tried to find the Africa you here. I tried to manufacture it, but that kind of beauty cannot be replaced or cheapened with imitation. It is not possible, and I learned that. I laid in bed at night, and I cried for you. I was striving to fix the part of me that was staining you. But in that striving, I was missing the beautiful you that is here.

The Church is here in North America and there in Africa and there in Asia; she is large and beautiful and spills over borders. She is who Jesus died for, and the one He is coming back for. She is loved and prioritized by her Groom. She should be honored and cherished. I realize this. So I started noticing you - really noticing you. And while everything is not perfect, nor will it ever be. While there are things that need repair; He is using the imperfect and the weak to showcase His perfection. And that makes you so beautiful. The Church will never fulfill us completely - it is not meant to - because it is not Jesus. So she will always leave us hungry for more of Him. But if we can look and really see what she is doing, and what she is capable of, we would be so excited to be a part of her.

I see you Beautiful Bride as you bend your knee to the homeless in your community, bringing coats and blankets and McDonald gift cards. I see you stepping out in faith, crossing the Jordan, and entering the hurts of your city in big, risky ways. I see your arms spread wide for the outcasts - the ones that walk into your buildings dressed a little differently than you. Community and relationships are your heartbeat, and I see you embrace sisters and brothers and turn your open hands toward future sisters and brothers. I see your weary, tired Pastors cry tears for you, and the love for Jesus and His bride that pushes him through the exhaustion. I see Pastor's families sacrifice time for you. I see you inviting neighbors to your table, and I see you breaking bread with the stranger.

I see the Kingdom being built, and the body rising up to action. I see the way warming the pews doesn't jive with you, so you push to do more and open up margins in your life to spill out into the lives around you. I'm amazed by you. God is alive and working, and you, the beautiful Bride, are His vehicle. He is using you in cities, in orphan care, in missions, in rec. centers, in hospitals, in broken homes, in back allies, in family reunification, in schools, in nurseries, in the lives of pregnant teenagers and CEO's, in coffee shops, in slums, in social justice, in after school programs, in your poor neighborhoods and so much more. The Church is building the Kingdom brick by brick, little by little, proclaiming the gospel of Jesus in little and big ways. Things are happening. The Spirit is moving.

You are a living, breathing, beautiful Bride. There have been shifts in the Body, and you are enduring a lot of gossip, but you are still needed. I am still dreaming with you. This is our only spot in history. This is the only chance we get to do what we are called to do for such a time as this. Let's look and see the Bride, for who she is, and what she is meant to be, and watch as God uses her to transform lives through Jesus.

I see you Beautiful Bride, standing there with your arms flung open with grace, your pulse beating with love and mercy, and I know that God still has much in store for you - for us - for the Church. I am anticipating watching the Redeemer continue to redeem, watching Him call out people from all nations while understanding that He chooses to do this through us - His imperfect, yet beautiful, Bride.

I see you beautiful Bride. I am a part of you. We are the body, and I am desperate for the pieces of you that fill in the missing pieces of me. I am passionate about you, and I am celebrating you. I have not given up on you Church, and neither has He.

.Bittersweet Surrender.

“I have tried to keep things in my hands and lost them all, but what I have given into God’s hands I still possess.” Martin Luther.

I did something this past week that just a few short years ago I could have never envisioned myself doing. I emptied my house of everything and sent about 90% of it off to be sold. Our house closes any moment, Lord willing.This is a huge step in the journey of moving our family over to Ethiopia to be part of building the Kingdom by investing our lives in the lives of street kids. This was the one step that I was most apprehensive about, because I knew that it would hurt. It was a battle this past week - a battle in my heart, soul, and mind, as I fingered many of my possessions for the last time and the memories bathed me in bitter-sweetness. I wrestled with God some moments. I wondered why He had chosen us for this journey. He calls each of us to something different, and I begrudgingly at times wondered why He chose me for this. He knows me. Sentimental me - the one who saves everything that a memory is attached to, the one who tears up over a scribbled note or walking into my candle-lit home seeing my four children snuggled together on the couch. The one who clings to traditions and spent hours cooking and baking in my kitchen and years making my home a safe haven for my family. The one who found her identity for so long in being a homemaker and a mommy in that house. I understand better now why the rich young ruler walked away sorrowful. (Mark 10:17-31) God knows that about me. He knew that this sacrifice would be personal and hard. The very best sacrifices are. God's ultimate sacrifice was so personal - He gave up His Son.

 I am certain of this call on our life. I know that God wants our family in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and I can confidently look back over my life and see how He has been nudging us in this direction for years. But to say that the journey is an easy task is a lie, or to say that the enemy doesn't try to deceive us and make us doubt these choices is a lie as well. We could have done things differently. We could have secured a safety net and a back-up plan by storing our belongings in case things don't work out in Ethiopia, but when Jesus asked us to follow Him, to invest in the Kingdom, He didn't ask us to hold back "just in case". He asked for it all. It is imperative that if we choose to live this life that He has asked of us that we live it with abandon - holding nothing back. If we say that we are willing to forsake everything for Jesus, then we actually have to live that way. Following Jesus must have a practical outworking, and this is ours. To some it will look foolish. To some it will look brave. To some it will look radical. But our eyes are straining to focus only on Jesus and what it looks like to Him. I pray that it looks like surrender.

This week as I went through years worth of material goods, I realized what bondage I have been in because of these possessions. Now, again, this is very personal, this is my heart issue that God had to weed out of me, and He works with each of us individually. Your journey and call may look very, very differently than mine. But for me, my possessions had imprisoned me. My stuff had held me captive. I realized that I was firmly planted in a place on this earth and unwilling to follow Jesus to the ends of the earth because I was holding onto my material property. It kept me rooted and stuck. For so long I have been deceived into worshiping at the alter of materialism. My house, my things, my money were more security to me than my Jesus.With the impending sale of our house, with getting out of a monthly mortgage, and the selling of the majority of our belongings, there is less that holds me captive in one spot. For the first time in my life, I feel free. I realized just how much of my heart and my treasures were captivated by things - they had taken over the place in my heart that should have been reserved only for my God.

It really wasn't the stuff that was the real problem,but it truly was the position that it occupied in my heart. I have never been wealthy, and to some my possessions were small, but I learned that I didn't have to be rich with a mansion of belongings to have made them my idol. However, through this painful process, I have learned that I possess something far greater than any of the possessions that I was clinging to - I possess the Kingdom. When the man in Matthew finds the treasure of the Kingdom, he RUNS in JOY in order to sell everything that he owns to buy the field where the treasure - the Kingdom- is buried. (Matthew 14:44-46) I have a relationship with Jesus and the greatness of knowing Him and being identified with Him and adopted by my Daddy in heaven. I have an eternal inheritance that continues to build in heaven as I build into the Kingdom - treasures that this world cannot destroy, that will never lose value or disappear. My citizenship is in heaven and isn't found in a country or a house. I am secure. I am safe. And neither of those has anything to do with where I live or what I own here on earth.

Everything I have and everything I am is all His  - all He asks is that we give our lives away for the sake of the Kingdom. That we surrender that which has captivated our attention. It's bittersweet surrender -  surrender that is personal, painful, and costly. But a bittersweet surrender that pales in comparison to what waits for us in eternity.

[source]

"The cost of the Kingdom is everything, but in comparison to the treasure we receive in return, all that we have in this life is worthless and empty." -Keith Gieles

.An Evening of Solidarity.

I think that at the core of us, no matter our bent toward introvertedness or extrovertedness, we want to be known and to belong. We were created for relationships - of course a relationship with our Creator - but also relationships with flesh and blood people around us. Perhaps this desire has been the hardest part of this five year journey that God has taken us on. The loneliness has been palatable at times. Yet, I know standing here five years removed from the beginning of the faith journey God began leading us on, five years removed from some friendships and women that I never could have imagined wouldn't link arms with me for the journey, I know that the pain, the loneliness was necessary. I am a different woman today than the one I was before God yanked away the American dream and replaced it with His dream. I've retreated into myself more and learned who I am in Christ, apart from voices of girlfriends. I have relied more on the strength of Jesus to pull me through, dark depressing days, when in the past I may have relied more on humans to soothe away the hurt.



Taking a crazy journey of faith, that doesn't fit inside a safe box, makes a person a little uncomfortable to be around. I haven't exactly figured out why, but I know it is true. Add to that falling in love with orphans and a third world country, seeing poverty up close, and witnessing things that would make grown men sob, and I probably make a pretty depressing friend. I will never be the same again. I will never see the world as I did five years ago before God truly got a hold of my heart. So much of what used to matter - like organic, whole foods, and homemade laundry detergent, keeping a perfect home, chit-chatting about shoes and clothes and designer bags, doesn't matter at all anymore. I can no longer do the small talk, because this life is far too short and there is far too much to do. It's not easy to be my friend any longer, because my vocabulary has changed, my passions, my heart - everything inside of me, and they explode into every conversation, unless I fake it. And I have tried, but I fail. The reality is that I am a depressing, hard friend.



As many nights as I have cried into my pillow for God to bring me my people, I would never, ever turn the clocks back to five years ago and make a different choice. Knowing what I know now, I would still choose this road. I would still choose to board that plane. I would still choose to have God break my heart to smithereens every time my eyes met the haunted, hollow eyes of the starving street children. I would still choose to see what I saw in those orphanages - to know the horrible truth of institutionalization on the lives of precious little children. Those experiences have become part of me, and I needed them just as much as I have needed these five years of loneliness.



Although the overall melody of the past five years has been permeated with loneliness and a realization that I am lost inside my own skin, there have been beautiful high notes that break out in a crescendo every once in awhile. There are a few girlfriends nearby who did link arms with me, despite not having experienced what I had experienced. Although they are few, they are absolutely precious. And there are those girlfriends, those families spread all over the map, who have had similar journies and similar experiences, who truly get it. It's taken me a long time to fully realize what a gift my adoption community really is. Of course, I wish I could open my back door and welcome a friend to grab a cup of coffee anytime my heart needed encouragement, but honestly all I have to do is open my laptop and I literally have hundreds of women whose hearts beat out the same rhythm as mine. I realize now what an incredible gift this is, and how rare of a blessing I have been given.

And this past weekend, I got to spend several hours with two of these women and their families. To hug the necks of women who have been in the trenches, who have seen what I have seen, who are tired and feel as if they have nothing more to give, who wrestle with life here in America after seeing life over there,  who are desperate to do a  great job of parenting these children who we fought so hard for while not neglecting the children we birthed, who question the status quo - even in our churches - there is no way to describe what it is to look into the worn, tired eyes of sisters in Jesus and know that I am known. I belong somewhere.



We stood in the kitchen, we sipped sangrias and cokes, and children ran around us - a beautiful sea of faces and colors. We said little and we said a lot - our eyes and hearts saying the most. She tentatively formed the words do you ever think about how easy it would have been? The three of us look at one another as the words hover in the spaces between us. Sacred words that cannot be whispered to girlfriends who don't understand what these journies have cost us. But in that room, those words are safe and understood. There is no judgement and there is no guilt in feeling the emotions that come with the path that we have each chosen. Tears filled our eyes, each of us deep in thought thinking about how easy life may have been if we had said no. No to the eight children from Ethiopia between the three of us. No, to a third world country. No to adoption and heart ache and expense and pain. No to having to figure out how to parent children who don't even know what living in a family really means. We have all lost something in this journey - there is always a cost to following Jesus. And as the weight of the words hung over us, and tears pricked our eyes, we knew it was a safe question, and without saying a word we also knew that none of us would ever choose to go back and take the easy path.

The evening continued with laughter and empathy, and the amazing gift of being reunited on this side of the ocean with our favorite Ethiopian guide, his sweet wife, and their little girl (they just recently obtained visas to live in the states). With food and fellowship. With mommy stories and understanding and empathy for the teenage years we are embarking on. We threw up our hands and admitted to having no idea what we were doing and shared stories about cell phones and curfews and laundry and {shudder} girlfriends. It was relaxed. I dare even say it was worshipful. And not once did one of these women who I love so dearly, because of the bond we have through Ethiopia and Jesus, take out her cell phone. We had each other for the night, and the rest of the world stood still in the background while we soaked up the minutes together. It was just flesh and blood conversation, lingering stories, nodding, tears, and a knowing that permeated the evening. It was stories revisited and exchanged. It was children - loud and happy, men - laughing and sharing, and our tight little circle of three women linking arms. And for a few hours on a warm Friday summer evening, on this side of the globe, I found myself feeling known and understood, and the solidarity for those brief moments melted the loneliness away.

 

.Habi's Thoughts on Moving to Ethiopia.

The number one question that Jim and I have received upon people hearing our news about moving to Ethiopia for missions has been, what does Habi think about it? So, I thought I would let him share here some of his thoughts. I am so proud of this boy and the maturity and love for Jesus that He continues to display. God really has done a big work in his heart and his life this year, and it has been such a blessing to be part of his story and to witness the changes and growth.

This is what Habi has to say:

My name is Habi, my real name is Habtamu. I was born in ADDIS ABABA, ETHIOPA.

I feel absolutely amazing about what GOD is doing in our family. I know that it’ll be hard for me to go back there, but I mean GOD wants us there. I JUST have to encourage my family, you know? When I needed help, they were there for me, when I needed food they were there for me, and now they have this opportunity. I have to help, you know? They need me, you know? I’ll have to say, I’m here for you guys, what can I do? I know that it’ll be totally different when I go back to ET with food, friends, and everything will be different, but they really want me there with them. They said to me this, Habi we want to go to Ethiopia to live, we feel like that is our home – Ethiopia not here. We want to be able to help your friends -street kid’s  -who need our help.

 I was like man, alright let’s do this! Although, I am nervous too, because I’m going back to my home town in ET.

I’m really happy that I have a chance to help street kids. I am excited to be able to teach them about Christ, you know? I can share what Christ did in my life, and I want to be able to tell them what GOD has for them. I want them to trust Him, and to be able follow Him. Showing them Who is Christ, and what He Has for them. AND GOD wants me to go back there too. Because, He showed me what being in a family is like, and how I need to teach my friends and say, you have to believe in Christ, you have to trust Him, and if you can trust Him he will never let you down.

.Here Am I; Send Me.

I remember the very moment our plane descended, hovering over the brightly lit city, and then landed on the little runway 30 months ago. I remember the way my heart skipped a beat the moment I sucked in my first breath of African air - dense, thick with smog, diesel fumes, and the smells of more than 3 million souls that call that city home. I had never been overseas. I had never seen a third world country or poverty like the poverty that marked every curb and corner there. I had never been a city girl, yet the hum of the city around me lulled and calmed me with it's magical cadence. For months prior to the trip I had braced myself for heartbreak and hurt, in having to face such a reality for the first time ever in my very safe, very plush life. But what I could never have known to prepare for was the immense joy that surrounded the people nuzzled there, and the joy that flooded my heart while I briefly joined the rhythm of their lives. What I didn't expect was that the moment my American toes touched the dusty, dirty foreign streets, my soul would sigh with relief and welcome me home.

Surely it was just an emotional response to such a life-changing experience. I cannot count the nights I have told myself this as tears soaked my pillow and sleep alluded me.

That January of 2011 we came home, and for 50 some days, all I could think about was the city that had tattooed itself on my heart and the people who breathed life into the city. My two boys were constantly on my mind, but so were all of the other faces that I felt an instant connection with. I fell into a mild depression, trying to wrap my mind around how to live here with what I had seen there, how to live between two very conflicting worlds. Then in March, we boarded a plane once more and once again landed on Ethiopian soil, this time to bring our baby home. It wasn't until I walked back out into that Ethiopian air that my heart settled and peace washed over me again. The Spirit was beginning to weave and gently call. I sobbed for hours on the plane ride home, feeling as if my heart was being torn in two. I should have been so excited to go home to the comfort, safety, and familiarity, as well as to our new life with our sweet baby, Jamesy. But I was miserable and depressed.

Looking back now I can see the fingerprints of God so clearly. When I was a young girl, about my Cadi's age, I remember a missionary from Africa coming to our church. I remember him talking about how God called his family to Africa and how perhaps God was calling some of us there as well. As a girl, living in a safe, comfortable middle class family in America, the thought of moving to "the jungles of Africa" (because in my limited understanding of the world that was all I knew of Africa) was the most terrifying thing that I could think of God calling me to do. For years, unbeknownst to anyone, I laid in my bed at night and begged God not to send me to Africa. Yet, my favorite part of our local church's AWANA program was hearing the missionary stories. The story of Amy Carmichael is still vivid in my memory. I was drawn to these stories and sought them out in our church/school library. I remember attending camp as a child and one of my favorite weeks was when missionaries were the special speakers. I was mesmerized by their stories, photos, songs, and memorabilia brought back from the field. All the while I would squirm in my seat, begging God not to send me. God sent brave people to the mission field, not bashful, awkward, timid girls like me, and in my twisted thoughts I remember thinking that if He sent people like me, it was surely to punish them.

I remember my freshman year in Bible College. One week of the year, our classes would be cancelled, and our college would host a "missions week". The focus would be serving on the mission field, and all of the speakers were missionaries or former missionaries. I was an elementary education major and missions was not on my radar, until I heard a woman passionately speak about teaching missionary children in a school in the Ivory Coast - Africa. My heart pounded and my palms grew sweaty as I listened to her speak of the beautiful country, the people, and the need for more American teachers in her school. Please, don't send me to Africa. I silently begged God, while feeling this gentle yearning begin to root itself in my heart. All week I wrestled against it, but I couldn't shake the idea that I needed to prayerfully consider it. I remember so clearly sitting at my little desk in my dorm room and opening my laptop. I typed a letter to my parents telling them that maybe God was calling me to teach in the Ivory Coast. I don't remember their response, or if there was one. College life continued, and while I prayed about it for a little while, nothing ever transpired. But looking back now I see how the seed was planted. I just wasn't ready. I needed to say yes to smaller things first. God knew my heart so well. In October of 2011, Jim took another trip to Ethiopia, it was then that we both knew that God was calling us to the mission field, but we believed He was calling us for the future - perhaps when our children were teenagers or grown. There were still areas in our life He needed us to surrender before we would be ready.

God took his time with me, knowing how best to draw me along. He allowed me to surrender and say yes to little things that began snowballing into bigger things. We said yes to camp ministry and stayed inside the yes for 6 years learning how to really love people big, and then we said yes to leaving the camp ministry with no safety net. That was my first big, scary yes. And in that short phase when Jim had no job, and we were seeking God's face, missions popped into our conversation for the first time in our married life. We had just read Francis Chan's Crazy Love, and our world was slowly being tilted. We were reading the Bible with different eyes, and seeing things that we had largely ignored. God ultimately led us to say yes to a pastorate, and then only weeks later, when our bank account was dry and it made no human sense, to say yes to adoption.....adoption in Africa. Then a yes to a special needs child, and a yes to a street boy - a teenager.

And this winter everything began to culminate and crescendo in such a way that we knew God was asking us to say yes again. We wrestled and begged God to make our path clear, and he placed the vision of Mercy Branch on our hearts. We know Mercy Branch was born for such a time as this. It was not a mistake. There are so many details of all of this that we look back on and realize that for this - the biggest yes of our life - God had to do it this way. We are stubborn, and we are far too attached to our comfort. He had to take away the security of Jim's pastorate, move us away from our comfortable home and familiar city, strip away our security in a job by allowing Jim to get one and then lose it, erasing our privacy and friendships, and putting us here with these people, in this struggle, for such a time as this. My depression grew, and we struggled with what God was doing. Our house hasn't sold, our bank account is depleted, nothing has worked out the way we had dreamed that it would, but exactly the way HE  knew it would.

All of our excuses as to why now is not the time for our family to serve in Ethiopia have been erased by this one terribly hard summer. So, it is with excited, humbled, thankful hearts that our family announces that we are being called to the mission field of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. I could never answer the hundreds of questions as to exactly how we got here - it was all of the above, all of those yeses and a hundred more little ways that God weaved and orchestrated and gently whispered into our hearts. It will probably be years before we even recognize all of the extraordinary ways that God led us to this yes. And for now I am okay with that, and I am okay with knowing that there are questions out there. I am secure in this path and in following Jesus, and for the first time in truly so many years, I feel peace, contentment, and joy. Of course there are very human moments when my heart beats out in fear, and I beg God in my still child-like panic please don't send me to Africa! But overall my soul is at rest, and as a family we are at rest, wanting nothing more than to follow Jesus to Ethiopia. This post is getting much longer than I had anticipated, so I tomorrow Jim will write another explaining the steps that we plan to take to get there - trusting that it is God alone who will pave the way.

Once again, we find ourselves on a threshold, and there is no turning back. This life is fragile and fleeting. This world is not my home, and we are given only a brief amount of time to make a difference. So, I am lightly holding all that we are leaving behind, knowing that my treasure is not here anyway. This phase of our life is ending, and endings can be hard and so can beginnings, but this, this here and now is all that I am given, and I want to live it all in, all surrendered, because in a blink of an eye this moment will just be a memory. Soon I will be at Jesus' feet for all of eternity, and I want this one beautiful life to have mattered for His kingdom. For years I have sought first comfort, possessions, family, familiarity, opinions, reputation, but now, in this moment, my one true desire is to seek first His kingdom, and for our family that means seeking it out in Ethiopia.

Here am I; send me. I am saying, YES.

Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?

 “Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it.  For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Luke 12:22-34

.I am Dreaming Again.

My little Jamesy woke up with a low grade fever this morning, so we are keeping it calm today and cancelling his therapies. I am just starting to feel better after an intense tummy bug, and since Habi can now commute with Jim most mornings and afternoons, my afternoon is open, so I can afford to have a gentle morning. I used to take these so for granted. Not anymore.

I was sitting here, being still and recounting the ways that God has mercifully sustained our family through the craziest year of our life. We thought we had known crazy before; we were so wrong. We have never been so busy, so tired, or so spent - emotionally, physically, spiritually. I did some calculations and realized that since September, we have spent approximately $7200 on GAS for our minivan for Habi's transportation for school. That money has been nowhere in our budget, and being transparent, there is no way we could budget it in a way to afford it ....but God can and did, and He provided. On top of that our family has had some burdening medical bills and have added in lawyer fees, with more on the horizon. We have spent approximately 420 hours in our van, on the road, (that is 2.5 weeks!) not to mention the hours of therapies, the hours of homeschooling, ministry, dreaming and planning our new church, and then the hours of "life" squeezed in between. Although to be honest, I have felt pretty lifeless, and as if I was just being dragged through these days. We have been stretched until there has been nothing left to give, and sadly some relationships have been severed, because at this point in our lives, we truly had nothing left to give. Jim and I both broke down about that many times this past year, just sobbing saying we had nothing left to pour out. It was all being poured out to survive one day at a time, there were no leftovers. I have learned that although we have signed on to this crazy, nobody else signed on with us, and they have the freedom to enter in or walk away. We have seen a lot of the latter, but it has been exactly what we have needed to see. Although, it did not always feel that way, it was a grace gift, and I am accepting it and moving forward with no bitterness. I think it will allow us to be more compassionate in the future about really entering inside the pain and crazy of others. We know what it is to walk it alone. It also brought us to the breaking point in knowing God was calling us to something new, and knowing us, if we had been any more comfortable, if we had had more people wrap around us, we may not have been willing to hear His calling. We may have stayed, when clearly we shouldn't.

I am finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. I am finally sleeping more than a few hours at a time again. And I can joyfully look back and see grace and mercy poured out on our family by the One Who never left our side, by the One who on many days dragged us over the finish line. We've known for a long time that something had to change, that this was not how God intended us to be living life - because truly we were not living.

I am dreaming again.

I am dreaming of the church of our dreams - as Jen Hatmaker, a fellow adoptive Mama and church-planting wife, encouraged us with recently, Build the church you're dreaming of, the one you would actually attend. It's the best thing I can tell you. Throw out someone else's model or matrix and dream up the church you're craving. 

And that's what we are doing - we are dreaming and building. We are dreaming of a simple church stripped down from programs. legalism, and traditions; a church that functions like family. A church as bare as the church in Acts. I am dreaming of finally finding and being surrounded by my people. It is something we all crave, because it is how we were created - to know and be known, and love and be loved, and accept and be accepted, and just be a part of a people. People that I can just be me with, and invest and be invested in in such a way that out of our overflow we are all able to invest in our city and our world. We all desire people to link arms with us and dive in the messiness of life with us. And Jim and I are finally to a point in our life, where we are willing to fight against culture for these relationships. We are stripping away so much of our life in order to make this possible, and I have never been more excited - yes, me - even as an introvert - needs this.

I am dreaming of a church that Jesus would attend. A church that extends mercy to the poor, the needy, the marginalized, as well as the polished, wealthy, and worldly. A church that goes to the least as well as extends an invitation to them. A church that is known by it's posture, because it has a posture like Jesus. A church that understands that part of the gospel is the incarnation of Jesus, and part of being a disciple of Jesus is incarnating like Jesus.

I am dreaming of a simpler life, knowing that does not mean that the road ahead will be easy, but it has to be simpler than this. And with that simplicity has come some sacrifices and some tears, and God has ripped down ideals I had specifically about schooling. He has opened my eyes, and shown me how tight-fisted and proudly certain I have been about our prior choices. He has shown us how those choices do not fit into the life God is leading us on any longer. How those choices do not fit into the mission he is laying out for our family. God is closing the door on a part of our life that at one time I found a part of my identity in, and in doing that it is also something that I built up to be an idol. It made me self-righteous, indignant and altogether merciless. Exactly who I do not want to be. So God is stripping away priorities we had in our life, in order to realign our life with His mission. It has taken me months to fully accept this and surrender, but I have. 

And now I am dreaming again. And it feels so beautiful and right.

If you want to understand more of what we are dreaming about, and how to better pray for us, please check out our Mercy Branch Church website. And if you are curious about our name, you can read about it here. This website is a work-in-progress, and so is our church - so are we. Please give us grace. We would love to have you follow us on twitter and facebook as well.

I am dreaming again about being more disciplined in my writing, so I hope to connect with so many of you again in my little corner of the web. Until then - what are you dreaming?

.When Jesus says "Follow Me".

For awhile now we have been restless, unsettled, and uncomfortable. It has taken unique circumstances in our life this year to understand what the remedy to this would be, and how Jesus is once again pursuing our hearts and inviting us into His beautiful story. It is with bittersweet excitement that this story is leading us to sell our home, for Jim to resign from his current pastorate, and for us to move our family an hour south and plant a church.

There were many things that pushed us in this direction. Jesus has been whispering hotly in our ears follow Me for some time now, and we prayed and we searched and we wrestled with where He was having us to follow. Our hearts and instincts immediately went to Ethiopia, and we were nearly giddy with expectation that this could be where He was leading. However, as we prayed and talked and prayed some more, it become blatantly clear that, for now, Ethiopia is not where we are to follow. The medical, physical, and cognitive needs of our Jamesy, at this time, just do not make Ethiopia a viable option for our family. When we stepped back, and took a deep breath, and removed our emotion from the picture, we could so easily see that God had very plainly and purposefully brought Jamesy and Habi out of Ethiopia for now. We wrestled through other options across our country - so many of them good, exciting options - like moving to Illinois -near some dear friends. And all the while we wrestled and prayed, our life grew more and more chaotic here as so much of our life was now being spent over an hour from our home and next to Habi's school.

As we began to see how our lives were physically shifting away from where we were living, and the tension and stress that it was bringing to our once, simple, comfortable life, God began to plant a new dream in our hearts. A dream for a new kind of church, a new kind of community. A dream of solidarity with the poor, the mistreated, the outcasts, the marginalized. A new understanding of the posture of Jesus and what it really means to follow Him and live like He lived. A realization that  a church that Jesus was leading would be socially active, and that the church is exactly who should be leading in caring for people in need. A knowledge that knowing and saying absolutely must be matched with doing. 

This passage began burrowing itself into our hearts, and we are crazy enough to believe that Jesus actually wants us to do what He asks.

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter,“Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”

“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

 Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”

The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.  Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.”  Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him,“Follow me!”  (John 21:15-19 - emphasis mine)

This was a dream that we could no longer ignore. 

To say that this has been an easy decision would be a lie. Following Jesus is always costly, and this new journey is no different. When I wrap myself up in my own emotions and flesh, I am scared and sad. This is the city and the church that I have literally grown up in. It was a dream of mine to raise my babies here, in this small country city, a mile away from my parents. I remember when we moved into this home, our first home, just five years ago, feeling that we would raise our babies to adulthood and grow old in this home. But slowly and graciously God has been tearing down these things, which have honestly become idols in my life. I am gaining a new understanding that this is absolutely not my home, that this life is short, and that I want to make this one, short, beautiful life really count for the kingdom. I am done storing up treasures here on earth. I am done replacing God's best for my life with good things. Now when we look at homes to purchase, I am no longer envisioning the home as forever, now we are talking about things like Is this a house that we could easily sell in the future? Because I am understanding now, more than ever before, that at any time Jesus could whisper again follow Me

Jim resigned from our church this Sunday, and is currently employed as a manager of a Sweet Frog. We are dreaming and building a new community and church alongside some beautiful people, whom God literally dropped in our laps as confirmation that we were truly following Him. We are working on getting our house on the market and praying that God sells it quickly, and then we move. Right now we will be commuting a lot and living part time in our new city. We are excited and terrified about this new adventure and our new church plant. While we know with all of our being that this is what we are being called to, God has not revealed to us whether or not we will be successful in this journey  There is no guarantee. All we can do is free fall and follow - no looking back, that is what we have learned to do when Jesus says follow Me. 

Jesus replied, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God." Luke 9:62

.Rearranging my Heart and Rethinking Family First.

There is so much that is going on in my head and heart that I have not been able to write about it. That only happens rarely. God is doing some major rearranging inside of me. Things that I was once so certain about up until now, are now not quite so clear anymore. It is both frightening and freeing. I am learning that because of how I have structured our life (some of it has been necessity and some of it has been choice) I have fallen into some unique temptations in idolizing my family. Loving my family is biblical and wonderful, but when loving my family and expending myself for my family, trumps loving God and imitating Jesus to the world and people around me, then I have fallen into a dangerous trap. And I admit it, I have fallen into this trap in some of these ways:

• I am realizing that some of my motivation for the decisions I have made have been made out of fear of man, not out of trust in God.
• I am realizing that I am teaching my family to idolize family and therefore that we exist to meet the needs of the people in our family, rather than the needs of the people outside of our family.
• I am realizing that I may be teaching my children a wrong view of church. We have become so consumed with family, and really good things to do with family (But even good things can become wrong things), that we have little energy left over to help our children really engage in the church and be the church.

Luke 14:26 has knocked around my head and heart for about a year now, it says, If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. 

I understand that this does not mean that I am to abandon and hate my family, but that it does means my love and affection for Jesus should be so great in comparison to my love for my family. However, I am still trying to figure out what that practically means. How do I live this?  In my human mind, it is hard for me to realize that God wants me to sacrifice - even my family life - to follow Him. But, these are not my children and this family life on earth is just temporary - a gift for a season - on loan for me to steward well. Idolizing this gift is not stewarding it well. Jesus is calling for a greater devotion to Himself than even to my own family. It is hard to sacrifice my whole life for Jesus, but that's what He asks. It costs much to follow Him. It costs much to be His disciple. Is there joy? Is there blessings? Yes, yes! But it is not easy, and it was never, ever promised to be easy, no matter how much we have twisted it to be so in our modern American culture.

I am not swinging the pendulum the other direction and thinking that I need to neglect my family either. I am just trying to bring that pendulum back to where God intended it. The greatest command that we have as a Jesus follower (male or female) is to Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind.  and then secondly to love your neighbor as yourself. (Luke 10:27) So I am called to love God above all else and then to love humans (I believe that neighbor can be translated all humans, everywhere). Absolutely, of course, this includes loving my family. However, nothing is said in these two greatest commands about prioritizing family above our neighbor or neglecting our neighbor for our family.

Jesus never asked me to sacrifice myself for my family. He asked me to sacrifice myself for Him. That's hard to swallow as I have given so much of myself for my family, and to know, that perhaps in giving of myself, I have unknowingly been neglecting the very One who gave Himself for me.

I am not sure where I have landed with all of this, besides understanding the temptation that I have fallen into. Perhaps that is the place to begin. We are praying over many changes in the coming year that will help our family align more closely with being disciples of Jesus. I will close with a provocative passage that has been eating at my brain. I am still studying this and its context.

Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household.’ Anyone who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves their son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. (Matthew 10:34-37)


I don't type any of this with certainty, arrogancy, judgmentalism, or feeling as if I have the answers. It's what my heart is wrestling with. Things are not always as black and white as we would wish them to be. I am learning that there is life in the gray, and sometimes Jesus is found right inside of that gray. All I want is to find, and follow, and know Jesus in a way that I have never known Him before.

This is my journey to Him.