A rib is worth a Thousand Words.

 “Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him. I will protect him because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him. I will be with him in trouble. I will rescue him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.” Psalms 91:14-16

If you have ever made your man cry (and I KNOW all of you have because there is NO WAY I am the only mean and spiteful, heartless, self-centered wench out there), you will probably agree with me that it’s the most awful, heart wrenching, make you sick to your stomach, promise to never do it again, shocking and debilitating experience ever. Worse than a root canal. Worse than a fight with your mom. Worse than that time your bestie ditched a cry fest/FRIENDS marathon/ben and jerry binge with you to hang out with someone way more fun and upbeat. Worse than getting through the thirty minute long Wal-mart line with everything you could possibly need for the next ten months and realizing you left your wallet at home. Worse than the first time your child ever said ‘I hate you’ or you stepped on the scale and it said ‘I hate you’ or during that performance review with your boss, when they might as well have said ‘I hate you’. You get it. Worse than the worst, ok?

And after you get over the initial paper bag on an airplane I can’t believe I just did that vomit in your mouth moment, the shock and bewilderment sets in and you realize, THEY DO HAVE HEARTS AFTERALL. Even if they don’t communicate like you and they don’t cry at every Hallmark commercial that comes down the pike and they don’t need to tell you EVERY SINGLE MILLISECOND how much they love you and they prefer high fives over long emotional hugs and a good quickie over lots of movie-esque making out, they DO have a heart and shock of all shockers, it’s actually 25% BIGGER than yours.  

I was at a Christian wedding a few years ago and par for the course, the officiant pastor talked about how God designed woman; not from man’s head to lord over him or his foot to be beneath him but from his rib, to walk alongside him as a partner in life. And usually the analogy ends there and everyone smiles and moves on to the rings and the kiss and the cake, but this time it was different. This time, the pastor went on to talk about the significance of the rib.

The rib. Strategically placed as a protective covering over one’s vital organs, namely, the heart; to keep safe from harm or injury. Huh. Interesting. You mean we, as women, as wives, might actually have been given a worthy and honorable position that comes with great responsibility rather than just being simply ‘made from man and for man’? You mean there’s more to this whole ‘wife’ thing than dishes and laundry and kids and food and sex? You mean instead of spending my energy and time fighting for equal rights and equal pay and equal say and equal everything in order to prove that I am equipped, able and important when standing next to my man, there is something I can do for him that he can’t do for himself?

As I was reading up on ribs I learned that we humans have 24 ribs; 12 pairs. And in the world of anatomy and physiology these ribs are designated into three groups; true ribs, false ribs and floating ribs. I thought this was so poignant considering. True ribs are actually directly connected to the sternum (the steel like plate behind which the heart hides). False ribs are connected to cartilage that is also connected to the sternum (think nose and ear like material; not particularly fragile but not stone cold steel by any means) and the floating ribs aren’t connected to anything which is why they are so easily moved. In fact some people don’t even have them; that’s how worthless they are. And of course, I couldn’t help, but ask myself………

“Whit……what kind of rib are you?”

Are you the floating kind? So far removed and disconnected from the heart that you might as well not even be there? Floating around, now you see me, now you don’t, it’s not really my job to protect your heart kind of attitude? Would the heart even miss you if you didn’t even exist? Would it feel a loss? Would it feel vulnerable, unsafe and exposed or would it just keep plugging along, one beat at a time, not even cognizant of the absence of your protection? Or maybe the false rib. Definitely there, definitely connected, definitely aware of the importance of your position but not really committed when it comes down to the nitty gritty. Are you easy to cut away under pressure or when a problem or painful situation arises? Out of self-preservation would you rather abandon ship, plead the 5^th, detach and walk away from your job to protect the heart? When the goin’ gets tough do you get goin’, even if only emotionally?

Or are you TRUE? Are you so deeply committed and connected to your job of protecting the heart that to tear you away would literally splinter and destroy you? Would someone have to cross over your ‘dead body’ in order to access the precious heart you protect? Come hell or high water, thick and thin, better or worse, for richer or poorer in sickness and health did you come to love, cherish, have and hold until death did part you and your heart?   

Only you can answer this question. God forbid your husband answers for you because I fear, if we’re really being honest here ladies, we probably have a little work to do. Let’s face it, we all know what major damage we can do in about 3.2 seconds to these hearts whose care and protection has been entrusted to us and if we’re REALLY being honest, we probably HAVE, more times than we care to admit.

The other day Andis said to me, “It’s really important to me when you are THERE. Just there. Even if you don’t do or say anything, just having you next to me gives me strength.”

 A heart is made to be a heart. A heart can’t BE a heart and PROTECT a heart at the same time so I might suggest that in between this life we’re building for our family; with work and laundry and dinner and soccer practice, we stop and take a second to think about how and why we were created and what a glorious honor it really is.

 “A wise woman builds up her household, but a foolish one tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1

The Shiny Penny.

It's 5am. I just woke up and while the coffee is perking and I'm rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I'm already scrolling through FB and then Instagram and THEN Pinterest and don't forget Twitter. (Actually DO forget Twitter because I don't do that. Doesn't fit into my minimum character usage requirement.) And then it begins. The thoughts of inadequacy, fear, doubt, self-hatred, jealousy, envy and every other not awesome feeling that comes with the act of COMPARISON start creeping in, one by one; silent, sneaky, snake-like little things and before you know it, I'm hating myself for a MILLION and one reasons before the sun is even up.

"Aw, man. She looks SO good in red!" "Wow, I've always wanted to learn how to make a quilt." "Andis would LOVE it if I could make a meal like that." "They look like they're having so much fun." "I USED to be that size." "Her short hair is cute." "Her long hair is beautiful." "That outfit is bomb."  "They're having TWINS!" "He started his own business and it's wildly successful!" "She just started homeschooling."

Remember the essays we had to write in elementary? They all had a theme such as 'This summer I....', 'For Christmas I......', etc. Well the "theme" in my head is just as painful as writing those essays except it seems to write itself and it DOESN'T. STOP. EVER. "I wish I spoke like that, wrote like that, acted like that, looked like that, cooked like that, loved like that." "I wish I had a kitten or a puppy or a new car or a baby or that couch or that phone or that adventure or that thought or that personality trait or long eye lashes or worked from home or that kind of faith, or, or, or, or, or.....are you starting to catch on? Facebook Envy. Pinterest Psychosis. Instagram Illusions. You've heard the terms (or maybe you haven't because I just made at least one of those up) and probably experienced them all to varying degrees yourself. You can be the most settled, secure, confident, happy and joy-filled person and STLL struggle against feelings of fear, doubt, insecurity, self-hatred and general crappiness about your life when you hold it up to anothers. It's the shiny penny syndrome and it's not only a buzz-kill but it renders you UN-USABLE by God. Because that line that they fed us when we were kids? The 'You can do and be ANYTHING you want' line. Well, it's crap. We were created, unique and purposefully to accomplish unique and purposeful things, NOT to do everything or be everything. And when we get wrapped up in the 'EVERYTHINGS' that we think we should or could be doing, is when we end up doing NOTHING that we were created to do. One of my fave preacher's ever, Cody Whitfill of our home skillet, River Valley Christian Fellowship, shared a message once about the importance of guiding and helping your children find their purpose and what they might naturally be designed to do because NEWS FLASH, they won't be good at everything and in trying to be, they might actually end up accomplishing the wrong things or nothing at all. This was revolutionary to me. Not because I have kids but I guess maybe because in a lot of ways I'm still a kid on the inside? Yeah, let's go with that. And despite my most valiant efforts at being independent and Godly and confident and self-assured and proud and content with who I am at 32, there is a tiny little fifth grader with chipmunk cheeks and purple and pink splatter paint glasses and a really bad mullet wearing sweat pants and matching Keds screaming on the inside, "LIKE ME! LIKE ME! LIKE ME! I'm cool! I promise!" I'm learning to hug that little fifth grader, tell her she's got some growing to do but that it's all gonna be ok and send her on her way because the truth is when you compare yourself to another you either end up feeling better than them or you end up feeling worthless next to them and neither camp is a healthy or happy place to set up shop. And let's face it. Being cool isn't always as cool as cool people think it is, despite what social media portrays. And even though I haven't met a penny yet that could talk, I'd much rather be a crusty, rusty, slightly green one anyway because I bet if they could, they would be much better story tellers. So, rusty pennies put your HANDS UP! We got work to do. Margaret Cho said it best, "I'm not gonna die if I don't succeed as someone else. I'm gonna succeed as myself." More you. More true. Get started. Success is waiting.

"....whenever they measure themselves by their own standards or compare themselves among themselves, they show how foolish they are." 2 Corinthians 10:12

" Do not conform to the patterns of this world, but be TRANSFORMED by the renewing of your minds. Then you will be able to test and approve God's will; his good, pleasing and perfect will." Romans 12:2 

George Banks is saying NO!

LEAKS. Lots and lots of leaks is what we woke up to this morning at 3something am. In the closet, and the bedroom and the other bedroom and possibly the kitchen by the time we get home this afternoon. I can handle a lot of irritating things but leaks are not something I'm good at dealing with. Andis would definitely agree with that statement as he is most often on the receiving end of my 'not good at dealing with something', and unfortunately it came sooner than later this morning. Like the torrential downpour, thunder and lightning that raged around us OUTSIDE of 606 Main, my inability to get a grip on myself and all of the fear, worry, frustration and finger-pointing caused a raging storm of its own, INSIDE of 606 Main.

"If our house leaks, it will get on everything. It will ruin the ceiling and the walls and the floors and our clothes and our shoes and our bed and out pillows and our bedroom furniture that we just financed and then it will SPREAD! Like gangrene to other parts of our house and it will ruin our fridge and our countertops and our stove and our cabinets and our pots and pans then I will have NOTHING to bang around!" "If our house has leaks, it won't pass a health inspection and if we don't pass our health inspection we won't be able to get the kids as quickly or AT ALL and if we don't get the kids, our lives will be empty and lonely and empty and lonely; food will lose its taste, the sun will lose its warmth, everything will be black and white and my life might as well be OVER!" "And even if they DO let us take the kids with a leaky roof, the money and time we have to spend fixing the leaky roof will be taken away from the money and time that we had intended to spend getting their bedrooms and bathrooms ready and the family car that we need to haul them AROUND and the bedding and lamps and rugs and backpacks and clothes and pillows and shoes and furniture that they will need when they come to live with us and we'll NEVER get it all done and we'll NEVER be ready for them and THEN, our lives will be empty and lonely and empty and lonely; food will lose its taste, the sun will lose its warmth, everything will be black and white and my life might as well be OVER!" 

Might we say that the propensity toward over-reaction has quite possibly imbedded itself in my genetic code?! Insert movie scene from Father of the Bride where George is consoling Bryan after he buys Annie a blender, and Annie loses it, HERE.

George: I thought maybe I should help smooth things over. So I took Bryan out for a drink. Thought we could have a talk, man-to-man. But as I sat there and listened to his side of the story... I realized this was a golden opportunity. If I ever wanted to get rid of Bryan MacKenzie, this was my chance.
Bryan: You know those banana shakes she likes to make, right? Well, that's why I thought she'd like a blender. I guess I can see her point. I mean, a blender does suggest a certain... reference to sexual politics, but... I swear, it never entered my consciousness at the time.
George: I believe you.
Bryan: You do? Would you tell Annie that for me, Dad?
George: This was where I was gonna lower the boom. But instead, I looked into his weepy eyes and found my self saying:
George: Sure, I'll tell her.
Bryan: Oh, good! 'Cause I know whatever you say she'll believe.
George: Not only was I not getting rid of the kid... I now found myself talking him into staying.
George: You know, Bryan, Annie's a very passionate person. And passionate people tend to overreact at time. Annie comes from a long line of major overreactors. Me. I can definitely lose it. My mother. A nut. My grandfather. Stories about him were legendary. The good news, however, is that this overreacting... tends to get proportionately less by generation. So, your kids could be NORMAL.
George: As if that wasn't enough, I went on.
George: But on the upside, with this passion... comes great spirit and individuality... which is probably one of the reasons you love Annie.
Bryan: That's what I love most about her.
George: That's when it hit me like a Mack truck. Annie was just like me, and Bryan was just like Nina. They were a perfect match.

I'm sure Andis was NOT thinking we were a 'perfect match' this morning as I was stomping around, banging pots and pans, pointing fingers and muttering disrespect and unkindness every chance I got. Indeed he was not. I am happy to say, however, that we got through BOTH storms; the rain let up, our house didn't crumble down around us and instead of calling into work and heading straight for the courthouse we actually ended the morning with 'i love you's', hugs and kisses. And as I listened to the radio on my way to work, this statement was shared:

"God's plan for your life cannot be thrown off course by the circumstances of your day."

Bullseye. Straight to the heart. How arrogant, prideful and hypocritical could I be? To claim to have faith enough that God can turn the ashes of our childlessness into the beauty of a perfectly patchworked family but who CAN'T knit that family together because of a leaky roof? Really? No. I mean REALLY?!

"Then the disciples came to Jesus in private and asked, "Why couldn't we (do it)?" He replied, "Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you. If you have faith as small as this mustard seed, you could say to that mountain, 'Move from here to there.' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." Matthew 17:19-20

So I'm done. I'm done sweating the small stuff. Leaky roof? Psshttt. I say BRING ON THE RAIN; it will just put us THAT much closer to the rainbow of love that's on its way. And that, is worth a MILLION leaks.

Snoop-Lion, Pt. 2: The New Face of Nanny 9-1-1.

NOTE: If you didn't catch the first part of Snoop-Lion's story, you can find it here: http://whitneygoble.blogspot.com/2013/08/snoop-lion-pt-1-life-in-balance.html


To make Snoop's case even more heart wrenching, he had a family! For TEN YEARS! And when he was just over 70 years old, they dropped him off at the shelter because they recently had twins and he was barking too much. Oh really? Barking too much? Because that's so odd for a dog and really the only solution would be a kick in the pants to the nearest shelter. Bravo! MEAN AND TERRRIBLE, NO GOOD PREVIOUS OWNERS! I really really dislike you and we've only met on paper.

Enough about Snoop's dreary past, I'm here to tell you about his bright and shining FUTURE; as the new face of Nanny 9-1-1. For those of you who aren't familiar with the show, basically some no-nonsense British former nannies can be hired to whip your family into shape if you have unruly kids which are usually a product of their unruly parents. She spends a day observing and then the 'transformation' begins. You can read more about it HERE: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nanny_911.

My recommendation for Snoop's future is a similar show but one that focuses on PREPARING unsuspecting childless adults who think they have a clue about what's in store in this glamorous journey called 'Parenting'. It would go a little something like this:

Enter Snoop from stage left.
Bark without ceasing all night long for no reason.
Poop without ceasing all night long for no reason.
Hold your poop in, until you are inside on the rug and then let loose like the tsunami in China.
Don't listen. Don't come when called. Don't do what your told.
Embarrass your parents in front of their friends and neighbors.
Be mean to the other kids in the neighborhood.
Turn your nose up at healthy food and hold out for the left over cheese filled weiners.
Run away every chance you get when no one and everyone is looking. Run faster when said parent starts to chase you. Snap at parent when they grab you by the collar because you aren't getting your way.
Sleep. Repeat steps 1-10. Over. And over. AND OVER.

NOTE: I wrote the above MONTHS ago when I was in the throes of adoption remorse which isn't REALLY remorse it's more like significant irritation at how out of whack your life seems at the time. Now, as I stare in the face of the end of my sweet old man's life and reflect upon how powerfully he has impacted OURS, the pooping isn't so bad really. You know what they say. Hindsight is 20/20 and you don't know what you have until it's gone. What they say is true. Here is, the REST of the story.  

So, Snoop-Lion is dying on me. And all of a sudden like. Almost overnight he has stopped walking and eating and I see the light in his eyes getting dimmer and dimmer. When we adopted him six months ago we knew that we were risking another loss sooner than later. Considering his age and his health and the trauma of spending several years in a shelter, the employees there were surprised he was still as spry as he was. Andis reminded me of the possibility that we could be burying him in a matter of months, weeks, days even. I was ok with this. All I knew was that I couldn't bear to let this sweet oldie live out the rest of his days, weeks, months; whatever he had; in a 5x5 cell with limited love and no people to call his own. He had been 'lost' in the worst way by his former family; purposely lost. And as tragic as that was, the timing of us finding each other couldn't have been more poetic. Because in the deepest part of my heart I believe beyond the shadow of a doubt that if we hadn't been given the opportunity to adopt Snoop six months ago, we would NOT, in any shape or form, be trying to adopt FOUR older children RIGHT NOW. Learning to love and care for him through his age and his attachment disorder and his lack of proper bonding and his quirky behaviors that we didn't understand and the things that scare him because he had been abused and the ways he is ok being apart from me because he was neglected and the fact that I didn't train and teach him from the time he was little have prepared me, in small and big ways, to become a mommy to children who will probably struggle with much of the same.

A long time ago I heard a story or theory rather on the idea of souls making agreements with God before they were put into bodies and sent to Earth. Agreements about where they would go, who they would love, how they would impact the world and those around them. And not every agreement included an easy, walk in the park life for these souls. In order to accomplish small and big things, significant sacrifices were sometimes required. I don't believe that we were pre-destined to live a certain life and I very much DO believe in free will and natural consequences but what a beautiful idea. What if, before I had a mind or a body, my spirit and God sat down over some heavenly coffee and had a conversation about the 'what-ifs' and 'what-fors' and 'how-tos'? I feel like it would go something like this....."There will be a child. And that child will become something GREAT and will impact my Kingdom on Earth for decades to come. But before that can happen, that child will be abused and neglected and placed in an orphanage and forgotten and YOU must find and save that child in order for it to have the opportunity to accomplish such things but in order for you to find and save that child, you must lose a child of your own and experience grief and loss and sadness and separation. It will only be through this common bond of loss that you and this child can truly become all that I have prepared you to be." And we wouldn't REMEMBER these conversations if they really took place, we would just encounter the possibilities as we meandered our way through life. And sometimes it would just WORK, like a perfect storm. You know that feeling; where everything seems to be in place for once and it all goes smoothly as if there is a Divine hand pulling the strings.

Snoopy was one of those strings. And regardless of if  the vet tells us we have five hours or five days or five months left with him this afternoon, I will be eternally thankful for the 'Agreement' he made to live a life less fortunate so that he could bring great fortune to us. Thanks Snoop-Lion. You are my favorite geriatric dog. Adopting you was a GREAT idea. xo.

Joy Comes in the Morning.

NOTE: If you haven't read the first three parts of this story, please DO or you might be confused! ;) They are Pt. 1-A Seed is Planted, Pt. 2-A Seed Begins to Grow, and Pt. 3-The Harvest.

And then I saw them. Their perfect faces framed by a professional's lens. Tiny smiles strategically placed to cover up the sadness, the scared-ness, the insecurity, the vulnerability, the lonely nights and no one to leave the light on and no one to stay up late with them on Fridays with movies and popcorn made on the stove and just enough soda to make it a party and please check under the bed for the millionth time for monsters and kiss it and make it better and fight for me when I don't know how to fight for myself and frighten me with how intense your love for me is and catch me if I fall, hold my small hand in yours when I'm crossing the street, hide and seek for hours and jars of fireflies just because it pleases you to see the wonder in my eyes and learning how to dot i's and cross t's and how to say thank you and pretty please with a cherry on top and how to properly hold a mop and snuggles and lovins and whoppits and noodlers and groupers and I love you the mostests and passing tests and failing to do your best and loving beyond limits and limiting the t.v. and junk food, but then candy for no reason, season upon season of growing and learning and loving and you're mine, all mine, no one can hurt you, harm you, farm you out, lose you, ever again because in that split moment, in less time than it took me to blink, I became a mother.


And though these four children don't even know I exist, I have barely slept since then. Wondering and worrying and grieving and praying and praying and praying and imagining and preparing and painting and filling out seventy pages of applications and health inspections and training and training and training and inching my way, one task at a time to the moment when I can hold them in my arms and look into their eyes and begin to earn my mommy badges, one by one.

I will extol you, O Lord, for you have drawn me up

and have not let my foes rejoice over me.

O Lord my God, I CRIED to you for help

and you have healed me!

O Lord, you have brought up my soul from the depths;

you restored me to life from among those who go down to the pit.

Sing praises to the Lord, O you, his saints,

and give thanks to his HOLY NAME!

His anger is but for a moment and his favor is for a lifetime.

Weeping may tarry for the night but JOY COMES in the morning!

As for me, I said in my prosperity,

   “I shall never be moved.”

By your favor, O Lord, you made my mountain stand strong.

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing.

You have loosened my grief
and clothed me with JOY

that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.

O LORD MY GOD, I WILL GIVE THANKS TO YOU FOREVER!

NOTE: Unfortunately, these are not our children yet and even though my soul rebels to even say it out loud, there is a possibility that they might not ever be. Andis and I will be certified to foster/adopt by Thanksgiving however and will hopefully meet our first four forever babies sometime in December, but nothing is set in stone. Naturally there are a LOT of variables and things that would need to go RIGHT, between now and then, but regardless of how this story ends, we hope you will join us in praying for (L-R) Shelley- 9, Shawna-7, Shyanne-11 and Samuel-8 to become part of the Goble family and the Smithville community because really, in my heart, nothing else will do. We will keep you posted as we get closer! Thank you for reading about our adoption journey so far. We hope that you will keep your mind and heart open to the 20,000+ children in Texas alone that need forever families; especially sibling groups and children older than 6 as they have a very slim chance of being adopted. You can learn more about the process to become certified to foster/adopt by following the link below. Please feel free to get in touch with us if you have any questions about the process. We don't know everything but we would love to share anything with you that we can and put you in touch with someone who does know if we don't!

http://www.dfps.state.tx.us/Adoption_and_Foster_Care/children_in_our_care.asp

He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven and whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name, welcomes me."
                                                                                                             Matthew 18: 2-4

The Harvest.

".....some other seed fell on good ground and began to grow. It grew taller and began to produce. Some plants made thirty times more, some sixty times more and some a hundred fold." Mark 4:1-9

I know all of you have that friend. The one who tries to assist you in explaining the unexplainable and connecting the dots. And timing for friends like this is irrelevant because if it was 'meant' to happen, there is obviously a good reason so they take a "let's just figure it out" kind of approach; the sooner the better in their minds. I, too, have a friend like this and I wouldn't trade her for the world. Is her timing always impeccable? At FIRST glance through the eyes of a freshly grieving woman, no, definitely not, but hindsight is 20/20 and I'm SO THANKFUL for the powerful (though seemingly inappropriate at the time) ways God has used her in my life and as a marker to guide us a little bit further into our adoption journey.

It was the Sunday following the loss of our baby girl and I got a text from said friend that a Christian orphanage had come to present at their church and the man presenting said they had JUST received an infant; a girl, that very weekend. In fact, I might be stretching it a bit here, but PROBABLY sometime the same day that I lost mine. WHAT DID IT ALL MEAN?! I lost my baby, here was a random baby; both girls, did I want more information? OF COURSE I wanted more information--ANYTHING to fill the gaping hole in my abdomen that led directly to my heart. I would have taken that baby girl in a heartbeat. Thankfully, God inserts a mandatory 'pause' button sometimes where we would employ no reason, self-control or wisdom because come to find out, that baby girl came with FOUR older brothers. NOW did I want more information? NOOOOOOOooooooooooo I certainly did not. That was all the 'more information' that I needed. Was I sad that there was a baby girl out there that needed a mommy? Yes, absolutely. Did I grieve for her losing her mommy like I lost my baby? Yes of course. Was it uncanny that I had ALWAYS wanted a crop of boys and then a tiny little princess? Hmmmm, yes it was. Did the thought cross my mind that overnight we could have our very own relay team and that THAT would be frightening but awesome? Hands down yes. But NO ONE in their right mind adopts five kids at once. NO ONE. But of course Andis and I and our families joked all weekend about the prospect. Well, maybe I joked and they all sheepishly laughed, knowing that my middle name changes from Kay to 'Insanity' from time to time and secretly wondering if they might need to check me in somewhere JUST IN CASE I got a wild hair. A geriatric dog is one thing, an insta-family including an infant bears a tad more discussion I would imagine.

And we needed time. We just lost a baby. We knew we WANTED to adopt but we were thinking more along the lines of ONE CHILD in the arena of 1-3 years old or 4 or 5 at the OLDEST. I mean when we said 'old' we didn't mean OLLLLLLDDDDD. And we certainly didn't mean a baby and four older brothers. Are you crazy? That's ridiculous. We couldn't possibly handle something like that. We are just two people, we've never even had kids, we wouldn't know the first thing to do, we couldn't afford it, where would we PUT them all?! Oh my gosh why am I even still THINKING about this, this is ridiculous. MOVING. ON. NOW. But even though I didn't know it until later, it was too late. The seed had been watered and was growing at a rapid pace.

A few weeks went by. Naturally, Andis and I continued to grieve; together and individually. Some days were harder than others. One particularly hard day when the anger had started to set in, I stomped into the kitchen and very pointedly informed Andis that God OWED me babies. See I have never been disillusioned by the fact that God's sovereignty is something against which I constantly struggle. I have had a rebellious, strong willed, disobedient heart since birth it seems and the 'maturity of adulthood' hasn't curbed it in the slightest. Following Him is a choice I have to make every day. It's not something that has come naturally for me, ever, and though I would love to think one day it will become easier, I'm just not sure. But until then I'll continue to choose to follow which I think is probably ok with Him actually. He DID create me afterall. So as an effect of my wily, tempestuous heart, it has always taken a certain amount of Godsmackdown to produce humility and dependence in me. Though not in the midst of it, most of the time I welcome the events, circumstances and occurences that produce these things because I LOOOOOVE the closeness to God that it brings and I know I can't produce that on my own. So we kind of have this unspoken charter between us; I rebel, he provides appropriate and timely smackdown, we get tight and then I start to wander again and so on and so forth. It works. Well, on THIS particular day I decided that it had stopped working.

"God OWES me babies." I said matter of factly. "I know He didn't cause this and it's not His WILL that we lose babies and I know that He USES these life circumstances to help me refine my spirit but seriously can't he do it with MULTIPLE BABIES rather than NO BABIES? I'm seriously DONE with the no babies thing." And just like that, without me even realizing what was coming out of my own mouth, I. Had. Asked. For it. And I'm sure he was sitting upstairs clapping and grinning like a mischievous school boy who had just pulled off the greatest prank of all. Because now, I could not blame him for my future troubles, no matter how overwhelming they be. I had asked for this. Clearly. Demonstratively. And with a witness present. Oh. Shoot.

"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels--a plentiful harvest of new lives." John 12:24

A Seed Begins to Grow.

NOTE: If you haven't read the first part of this story, A Seed is Planted, you can find it here:

http://whitneygoble.blogspot.com/2013/11/a-seed-is-planted.html


And so Andis and I be-bopped along for four and a half blissful months of pregnancy (well, maybe not ENTIRELY blissful) without sparing even a moment to think about, consider, and pray over the adoption seed that God planted in our hearts. At ONE point I asked him if he had thought about adoption since we had gotten pregnant to which he replied, "Yep.", to which I replied, "Me too.", and then we shrugged our shoulders and continued be-bopping along the rosey path toward parenthood. Which is what MOST people do who are getting what they want at the time. Regardless, all was right with our world. And then that world came crashing down around our heads when we lost our baby on Sept. 7th to a placental infection. You can read more about that, here:

http://whitneygoble.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-elephant-in-room.html

And you know, when you experience tragedy of any sort, the first question you always ask yourself, God and those around you, is....WHY?! Why me? Why this now? Why this way? (Ani Difranco) As if the happening of it in itself demands an explanation from someone, somewhere. Often times though we don't get an explanation nor do we ever come even remotely close to an answer that satisfies. God doesn't speak to us like he did way back when; with straight up answers and burning bushes and fiery clouds and booming voices and angel messengers. And I'm pretty OK with that. I think I would die of a heart attack if he actually DID respond to me shaking my fist at him and demanding answers. As far as I'm concerned, I'm better off that he ignores my three year old tantrums for now. So when we don't KNOW, we fall back on what we DO KNOW. And what Andis and I did know during that time is that God says this: "I KNOW the plans I have for you. They are plans for GOOD and NOT for disaster. To give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11 And that answer was enough for us. Did it hurt? YES. Were we confused? YES. Did it seem unfair? YES, YES, YES. Of course, being HUMAN, in our finite though stubborn minds, we still tried to 'connect the dots' if you will which was probably part of the plan all along. Because without direct, booming voice from the sky communication, how else does God have to communicate with us but to woo us, clue by clue, step by step, down the path He is clearing for us; the path that leads to His infinite and inexplicable love, grace and blessings.

I remember when I first said it out loud. "Maybe we lost this baby so that there would be room in our hearts to adopt an older child; one that probably has a slim chance of being adopted." Andis and I were driving to my parents' house the day that we lost our baby girl. I was in that safe space; the space between harrowing trauma and the settling in stage; the fuzzy, snuggly, surreal space. The lots of vicodin space. It's only when you're in that space that you can say stuff like that. Drugs tend to do that, but a combination of drugs, adrenaline, exhaustion and shock remove all barriers completely. It really is quite nice considering. I had more clarity and peace in those few hours than I did for weeks afterwards. See Andis and I were actually doing really well considering we had lost a child a mere eight hours prior. In fact, we were surprised at how successfully we were grieving together. Though it felt weird and a tad inappropriate to compare the loss of our child to the loss of our dog, we were confident that if we hadn't suddenly lost our sweet boy, our dog Jackson, six months before we wouldn't be doing near as well as we were. He was our first significant loss together as a couple and I KNOW the experience prepared us for the level of compassion, tenderness, communication and love that we would need to get through this loss. So naturally, thinking about the loss of Jackson as compared to the loss of our child, led me to think of the almost too immediate ADOPTION of our 12 year old arthritic, inside pooping, wax filled ears, non listening, non obeying, incessant barking precious dog Snoopy who looks JUST like Jackson and who would have lived his geriatric days out in a 5x5 concrete cell instead of on an orthopedic bed in a warm, loving home- had Jackson not died of lymphoma a few weeks before. You can read more about that story, HERE:

http://whitneygoble.blogspot.com/2013_08_01_archive.html

And whether or not the connection was intentional or purely conincidental, the effects of that simple conversation began to lay the foundation of a journey whose path was, at that point, shrouded by grief and loss.

"...some other seed fell on good ground and began to grow. It got taller and began to produce...Some plants made thirty times more, some made sixty times more and some............."

A Seed is Planted.

"Let’s start at the very beggginnnninnnnng! A very good place to starrrrrt,” (in my best Julie Andrews from the Sound of Music voice).

 

After having an ectopic pregnancy in 2010, Andis and I were uncertain that we would ever be able to get pregnant. We didn’t worry about it much then as we were both knee deep in a house remodel and pretty demanding careers, but of course it was always a present thought in the back of our hearts and minds. And as the ticking of our biological clocks would ebb and flow, we would find ourselves wondering just what WOULD our future family end up looking like? Andis and I both determined early on in our relationship that one day we would adopt and like most people who haven’t had to put a lot of thought into it, we assumed we would have a few biological children and then adopt a few after that. It’s not that we wouldn’t have done it any other way; we just hadn’t been faced with having to think about it any other way.  

 

So we didn’t actively TRY to get pregnant but we didn’t actively NOT TRY either and after about three years of it just not happening for us, we decided it was time to get busy; in every sense of the word. Taking temperatures and making healthy choices and boxers vs. briefs and lots of yams and reading the blogs and praying the prayers and you know, the other stuff. A month went by and two months and four months and six months and we noticed our glances were becoming more anxious, our palms a tad sweaty. So after a few doctor appointments and a few discussions we decided that if we weren’t pregnant by October we would take it to the next level so to speak. We didn’t know exactly what that meant but we tried to push the ‘what-ifs’ aside and we just prayed harder. “Lord please bless us with a baby! Lord, please let me get pregnant. Lord, I know you can do it, we need a little help here.” And then came the more desperate prayers, “Looooooorrrrrddddd. Are you even freaking listening? Good grief. Throw me a bone here. I can’t be the ONLY woman in Smithville without a baby. Or I guess I CAN, but I reeealllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy don’t want to be. You’re killing me Bigs. C’mon already.”

 

And every now and then, when the desperation would really sit in, we would take a step back from the mental picture of the family that WE wanted and ask ourselves….what if? “What if this isn’t the plan? What if, because we’re so focused on this particular path to children, a world of possibility is passing us right by?” And so, like a stranger in the middle of the night, Adoption came knocking and we hesitantly let him in.

 

ADOPTION. It almost felt like bad word. Like saying it out loud meant we had given up…or worse, meant that God wasn’t going to come through for us. Which really only ever means that God might not be giving you what you want, when you want it and how you want it. We all of a sudden became excruciatingly uncomfortable with the idea. This great philanthropic thing that we always KNEW we would do for YEARS all of a sudden felt like a very real and necessary option on a dwindling list of options. But still, we were three months out from ‘D-day’ so we convinced ourselves that “It couldn’t hurt to get certified”, “We could always choose not to adopt” or “We could still get pregnant. You never know! People try for WAY longer than we have.” Then there was, “Maybe we could foster! You know; commit to a child who is not our own without really committing…just in CASE we get pregnant.” But we didn't make a move.

 

And so it goes when you fight against the dreams, plans and purposes secretly planted in your heart from the beginning of time. And all the while you ask yourself, 'WHY can't I stop THINKING about this?' I remember my exact moment of surrender as clear as a bell. In church on a Sunday, enveloped by the voices of worship around me, I just gave it up. I offered up my family, my children; the images of the babies of my dreams on the altar of self-sacrifice and I GRIEVED for them. I typically try to hold back the tears in public; actually, no, that's a lie. I don't do that. And this time was not any different. Behind closed eyes in a private sanctuary all my own I met God, shared my doubts, fears, hopes and wishes and gave him the peice of my heart that I had been holding back for so long; the heart-shaped locket part that held the picture of family I thought I would have. And other than the streaks of mascara on my cheeks, you wouldn't have noticed that anything was different but in the 3 minutes and 30 seconds of that song EVERYTHING changed.  And what do you know, when I opened my eyes and looked through the clear lense of surrender and peace, what did I see before me but the backs of four of the most precious heads I've ever seen; obviously siblings, obviously adopted and obviously passionately loved by a mother and father that had not known them since birth. And just like that, in the blink of an eye, without even my knowledge, the seed started to grow. 

 

So like adolescents at their first school dance, we timidly and with much reserve signed up for our first information class on fostering/adoption. We hadn't talked at length about what we had hoped to find but we were definitely interested in a baby. That's what all first time parents want right? Babies with a capital B! Not much else makes sense afterall. So our class was scheduled for a Tuesday but we never actually made it. We didn't make it because the Sunday before we found out we were pregnant! We. Were. ELATED. And just like that, we put the adoption book back on the shelf. And as we began to praise God for blessing OUR plans, we didn't realize that a plan much larger than ours, His plan, had begun to slowly unfold.  

Mark 4, 1-9

"Again Jesus began teaching by the lake. A great crowd gathered around him, so he sat down in a boat near the shore. All the people stayed on the shore close to the water. Jesus taught them many things, using stories. He said, "Listen! A farmer went out to plant his seed. While he was planting, some seed fell by the road and the birds came and ate it up. Some seed fell on rocky ground where there wasn't much dirt. That seed grew very fast, because the ground was not deep. But when the sun rose, the plants dried up because they did not have deep roots. Some other seed fell among thorny weeds, which grew and choked the good plants. So those plants did not produce a crop. Some other seed fell on good ground and began to grow......."