Rocky Mountain high

We watch tv with an antenna, so our national news comes solely from social media and the internet. With Ayden being in Colorado with his dad this month I have been paying extra close attention to Colorado news. The fires in paticular. This evening watching Facebook light up and videos get posted my heart is torn seeing so much beauty being destroyed so quickly. Dawn, whom many of you helped fundraise for her adoption, is going to bed tonight confident that her parents may have lost their home. Her childhood home. A home I have been to. Where I have memories. I wonder all the time why God gave me the adventure of a life that he has given me. New people and new places on average every two to four years. It is not what I asked for. I crave consistency. I crave stability. I want to root myself deep into a community and thrive. I want to paint walls and design rooms that we live in.  But the reality is, even when we do root ourselves, there is no promise of these things... in this life. In one afternoon they can be swept away. We can rest in the promise of eternity though. We can accept that we have eternity written on our hearts and celebrate when we get glimpses. We can grow our roots and then treasure the pain when they get torn out as a sign of the promise. I think of Abraham... never seeing the promise fulfilled. Buying as fairly as he could a piece of rock, a plot of land, a forever home to bury his wife. Staking that tiny cave as his for- now taste of a forever promise. I wonder as I look around today what are my claims? Where have I left physical memories that tie me to my story. Certainly Colorado holds many. Garden of the Gods on a high school ski trip- and an unfortunate cactus that was a solemn reminder of my pride. I can feel the rocks on my hand, their red coolness inviting me to climb- to explore- to step outside of my quiet unadventurous self. Rocks that tonight are surrounded by flame. And then I think of the athletic field outside of Moby arena at CSU... preferably at night. There I first experienced Gods promting on my high school heart. Lessons he taught me at a summer camp about his plans he has for us. The same field where two years later I spent countless evenings walking after class. Falling in and out of young love. Reaching deeper into who He is-  Serving people hotdogs hoping it would spur conversations and invite them into Christian fellowship. If I close my eyes I can still feel the cool of the grass, see the bugs circling the lights, feel the shadow of the mountains, hear the whispers to my heart. Oh Colorado. You are such a PLACE for me. Such a piece of who I am. Such a reminder of His promise.  I ache for your beauty, for your people. May God comfort you with his Body. I pray the church steps up around the country to reach out to the thousands upon thousands who are affected. I pray we can take this opportunity to ever so gently remind one another that this is not our home. I pray for rain, and for the winds to be still. May you return to peace quickly, but hopefully with your stories deeper, sweeter and your hearts bent on eternity.

Simply::adoption {Haas part 1}

1999

I'm struggling to even begin this post. I don't know where to begin because there is so much I want to share. I think we should start at the beginning. The year; 1999. The place; Denver Colorado. I was a recent high school graduate and my father a recent transferee at work.We spent the summer in his corporate apartment and then moved my parents into their new house in the Denver suburbs. It was a rotten summer. To be fair, my parents did everything they could to help me, but I was in between high school and college and thought I had left everything I loved behind.
Towards the end of the summer I got my letter from school telling me my roommate assignment. I don't know if I had ever been as nervous to open a piece of paper in my life to that point. I was terrified. What if she was crazy? What if she snored? What if she partied? what if... oh my goodness, heaven forbid.. What if she was a cheerleader? Looking back I laugh at myself knowing what God planned, but at the time it was difficult to see past the nose on my face. Looking at the interest sheet the school sent me I noticed that she had noted, just as I had, that she was a Christian. Her name was Dawn (aren't all cheerleaders named Dawn?) but I somehow got the nerve up to call her and we had a great first conversation. We immediately seemed to get along well and when we met at welcome weekend I immediately knew that things would work out great.

1999, before a Rams game

2000, one of many late night ice cream runs
Who needs a man when you have Ben and Jerry's?

When people ask me what to pray for as they enter college, or their child does... I say pray for a Dawn. Pray for the roommate you need. Pray for who will push you, and grow you, and love you. That first day of college is one of those "I'll always remember what I was wearing" kind of days (khaki cargo skirt and Hawaiian shirt). After moving in and kicking our parents out we headed out for welcome week activities. Unlike Texas schools where welcome week is all about the brain washing (just kidding... or am I....) loyalty building, school spirit initiation, ours was more of a Greek week "join us!" kind of deal, so she called a friend from home who was an older student and we bailed. We ate walrus Ice cream. My life was changed.
Later that night I would get a phone call from my mother telling me that my brother in laws sister, just a few years older than I, had died in a car accident. Dawn let me cry and didn't act like it was craziness to be helping your brand new roommate grieve. This was only the beginning. We spent the year celebrating highs and lows, connected in ways that only God could have ordained. We both came into our freshman year with high school sweethearts back at home. We both left the year without without them. We hilariously choreographed nsync dance numbers and preformed them nightly. We practiced walking down the aisle, aka, the dorm hallway to Jim Brickman music. (I have to admit here that when it came time to plan my own wedding I did use ALL Jim Brickman music for my entire ceremony, I LOVED it). We had one of those friendships that was just so special. Anne Voskamp wrote this week of a beautiful friendship turned sour. I cant tell you how many times sour pickles were thrown at our friendship. We've had years pass with near silence. But this Christmas I got to go see her, share a morning playing with our kids and then that evening share a meal with her and her husband. It felt like nothing had changed between our hearts. The day to day details were missing, but THANKS to facebook and blog land we at least had some understanding of the details of each others lives. A detail that I was not prepared for... Adoption. The same friend I shared history classes, biology lab, broken hearts, secret nicknames,a love for memory keeping, a love for Jesus.... God has also given us the same heart for adoption. For his lost ones. For a daughter. I had no idea how far in to her adoption she was though. "Ready to receive referrals" what? already? I had been so focused on Becky and Briggs and thinking the trip this Christmas was to celebrate our Ethiopian Prince that i was not prepared to realize that a Chinese Princess was about to be claimed! My heart jumps just thinking about it! So soon, within weeks hopefully, Dawn and her husband Matt will be accepting a referral. A child. They will claim a child as theirs and submit paperwork formally to China requesting that they be given the privilege of raising her. The joy of bringing her home. I am so excited, and since Dawn does not blog I get to bring this to you! I got to sing at her wedding, but for some reason i feel even more honored to be a part of this. In the next few days I'll be sharing lots more about my sweet friend and letting you in on an easy and fun way you can help be a part of her story too! So come back soon!! You won't want to miss this!

2011

2011

A reason to go

It had been six years. Six very long years since I have been to Colorado. There was a layover once, where my amazing friends met me at the airport so we could meet each other's babes, but other than that six years have passed since my husband and I took our then only child to Colorado for his aunts wedding. The reasons we have not returned are plentiful. Babies in womb. Babies in arm. Lay offs. New jobs. No vacation time. Funerals using up any extra travel money we may have had. This year though those reasons became fewer and the reasons to go became abundant. A four year old who has never seen snow so he starts making up weird stories about it. Like it exists only as a fantasy. An eight year old who I desperately need to understand when he tries to tell me about his other life. Children and husbands of dear friends who I know only from facebook statuses. A long awaited first paid vacation... ON Christmas Day. But friends... what really moved my tamale laden self to drive 20 hours against the odds of an ice storm, cranky children, and graham cracker coated mini van seats? This little dude. And the years of prayer I've prayed over him.

He was as uh-mazing as I imagined. Feisty, sweet and chill all rolled up into the cutest little self. He played a bit with my boys, but mostly looked at me with complete suspicion. Who would blame him? I am quite intimidating after all ;-). I gave him a stuffed longhorn (only for the Texas reference people.. not the school!!) to break the ice. Just like my 1 year old he looked and then thew it down. No really.It was a classic I don't know you and I don't want your stuff toddler reaction. Perfectly adorable and I expected no different! I couldn't care less how he responded to me. It was complete selfishness motivating my visit. When you pray for rain for months, and the sweetness falls from the sky, what do you do? You run out into it and dance! Or stare from the window and weep. Or drive across state lines just to sit. God is good my friends. He delivers the helpless. He cares for the orphan. Each little life, from the moment of conception matters to Him... and he provides. For Briggs, he provided Becky and Mark... and the rest of their large, loving and happy to have  him home family. 

For Briggs this was the answer. It wont be the same for all of them,the nearly 400 million orphans in this world, but seeing Briggs answered a big question for my husband and I. We have arms. And they are waiting to be filled. Even if every old lady at walmart thinks my hands are full. I have room for another. For a daughter. And I want her. So I'm praying. It could be years people. Many many many years, but we're ok with that. Because we saw the proof. The same proof I see in my little sister. In my niece. No matter how God does it, I know it will happen. Adoption is a miracle, and ours is beginning. If only in our hearts. I wonder sometimes, how it happens. That amazing connection I hear adopting parents speak of. The immediate love. How in four months a little boy can go from an orphanage in Ethiopia to falling asleep holding his Mommy's hand in the back of my mini van. Complete trust. Complete love.  Complete redemption. A baby born in a manger. A miracle. Complete. This has been an amazing Christmas. There is much more to share, but for now, another shot of the perfection that is Mr. Briggs. You can tell how much he adores me, right? That's alright buddy. I'm perfectly fine loving you from afar!