What does it mean to be a child of God? #showhopeblogger

It was in high school, sophomore year when I clung to God as my Father.  Before then I had never really given it much thought that God was called "Father" in the Bible.  My Bible teacher gave us a handout with different names of God and said to mark the ones that spoke to us. "Father" was on there.  I remember wanting to call Him something personal in my devotional journalings so I called Him "Papa."  My own version of "Abba."  

To be a child of God is to have love.  Unconditional love.  To have support and strength that is not my own.  It is to have a safe haven.  To be accepted beyond my action but because I am His own child.

This month is Adoption Aid month.  I encourage you to find a way to bring home children to families.  That the human family would be an example of the heavenly family we all have.

What is one of your favorite stories of adoption? #showhopebloggers

I grew up reading and hearing adoption stories.  It thrilled my heart then, and it still thrills my heart now to hear those stories.  Yet one of my favorite stories of adoption is one that is happening right now.  One that doesn't have the "happily-ever-after" ending.  This is a story of unconditional love.  Love that loves without knowing what the end will look like.

The family I want to share about is trying to adopt from the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) but on September 25, 2013 the country issues a suspension on exit letters.  Which means that even if the adoptive families have everything else needed to take their child home, that they cannot.  The child is stuck in the DRC.

(First time the mother met her daughter.)

I remember hearing from this family that they were hoping to have their adopted daughter home by Christmas 2013, then the suspension came.   The suspension was to last a maximum of one year.  It was heartbreaking to watch this family wait. As the time got closer to a year, they and all who support them, began to hope again that soon the little girl could come home to her family.

Then on September 25, 2014 the families were told that the suspension would be indefinite.  There was no end to this waiting.  Only to hope and pray.  There are no guarantees that the suspension will ever lift.  No guarantee that they will ever be able to bring their daughter home.

So why is this my favorite story of adoption?  Because this is the heart of adoption.  It is about loving a child more than yourself and your own comfort.  It is about reaching across the miles and continents and saying, "I love you and will not stop loving you no matter what."

(The most recent visit with mother and daughter.)

There are many, many families in the same situation.  Would you take a minute and pray and sign this petition to help bring this matter to the attention of the President?  It only takes a few seconds and then you need to confirm it in your email.  Please spread the word and pray.  Pray like crazy for all the children and families that are stuck waiting.

This is my favorite adoption story because it's about unconditional love.  

Let's share in this story and bring these children home.

Nursing My Son (or how I couldn't)

I had many ideas of what motherhood would look like.  One of those ideas is that I would nurse my son.  I remember going to the birthing classes at the local hospital and having them talk about nursing. I paid attention to all the information about nursing but brushed aside the discussion of pumping and freezing/thawing milk, After all, I was going to be a stay-at-home mom and just nurse my baby.  Friends even recommended getting a few bottles in case I wanted to go out and have Matthew watch the baby.  I didn't take it seriously but bought a few anyway.

Besides, how hard could it be? It was natural right? Babies came out suckling and with skin-to-skin time I was sure everything would be fine.

Then I had an emergency cesarean.  There was no skin-to-skin time. There was no bassinet in my room.  There was a brief glance. A kiss to his sweet head. A few pictures. And then he was whisked away to the NICU.  I wouldn't get to see him for hours.  Even then I was draped in an extra hospital gown to keep germs from my baby.

I was given a hospital pump.  And I pumped. Every three hours for fifteen minutes I pumped.  No milk. Only blood from my raw skin.

I told the NICU to give my son formula.  I wasn't going to deny him food simply because I couldn't supply him with milk.  I kept trying to pump.  Around the clock. Every three hours.  Nothing.

Finally I was allowed to try and nurse my sweet Edmund.  He couldn't latch on, or I didn't know how to latch him on.  The nurse said I needed a nursing shield to help him latch because of how my body was formed.

That day my milk came in. Still, it was barely anything.

So we bought a nursing shield and I was able to nurse him on both sides for a few minutes.  I have no idea if he got anything but I felt joy at being able to nurse him.

I continued to pump.  My last pumping sessions before we were discharged from the NICU and hospital were the most profitable.  I even had my husband take a picture to remember that I actually had milk!

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So we went home, with formula and a Medela Double electric pump.  For the first week home I pumped, nursed, and did a bottle with breastmilk if I had enough and formula if I didn't.  Still, I was confident that soon I would excursively breastfeed.

From about the second week to the second month I fell into a routine where I would nurse and then pump extra so that someone else could take a feeding and let me sleep extra at least once a day.  Around two months my son began to refuse to nurse. I would position him to nurse, and he would arch back from me and cry.

If you have never experienced this, you simply cannot understand how hard that was.  I cried with him.  I couldn't figure out why he wouldn't nurse. I talked to my pediatrician and various lactation consultants.  I talked to other mother friends and researched on the internet.  I tried their suggestions.  But he refused.  So I began a new pattern.  I would try to nurse him at each feeding.  If he nursed at all, great, if not--I tried my best not to feel depressed or anxious and would give him pumped milk from the previous feeding.  Then when he was full I would pump to have enough for the next meal.

I was so discouraged.  I hated to leave the house because it was so complicated to feed him.  I had to keep the breast milk cool and then heat it.  If I was out in town I had to bring cooler bags and a bottle heater I had bought and plug it into the car. Yet, I was determined that if I couldn't nurse I would absolutely give my son breast milk.  I wanted to give him that.

















I began to feel that I should even give up trying to nurse him each time.  It was exhausting emotionally to try each time and fail.

Then we went up to visit family in Pennsylvania.  I decided that I would just pump and feed Edmund while we were up there because I didn't want to be stressed about it all when I was with family. I just wanted to enjoy the time.  But I was still very discouraged about not being able to nurse.  It was supposed to be natural and bonding and I was missing out on that.  I felt like a failure.

I began to realize that I was going to be freezing a lot of breast milk.  I already had a bunch frozen at home and now that I was just pumping I ended up with 10-14 extra ounces each day.  Just about the time I realized this God placed a thought in my head.

A friend had recently adopted a baby.  Would it be weird to offer this mother my extra breast milk?  Did people even do that? But I felt impressed to offer.  So I did.

"I am pumping my breast milk because Edmund and I can't seem to get it to work. But that means I am pumping 10-14 extra ounces a day. I have been freezing it. I heard that some people like to have breast milk for their baby even if it is from someone else. I realize it is kind of a weird thing, but if you wanted my extra breast milk I would be happy to give it to you. ..... Again, I realize it sounds weird, but I just wanted you to have it-- if you wanted it."

 Can you see how I felt awkward offering?  Yet, God (who know all things) knew I was supposed to offer.

She replied, "God bless you! I have tears in my eyes reading your message. I have been searching online to find people willing to donate breast milk...."

I had no idea that she was even looking for people to donate breast milk.  God did.  All of a sudden I wasn't discouraged or depressed about pumping.  I felt as if I had been given a double gift.  I could feed my son breast milk and give it to another little precious baby!  A double blessing.  One I would not have been able to give if I had been able to solely breastfeed.

It wasn't even a week later that I tried to nurse Edmund again for the first time.  And he nursed.  Only one side but he nursed and was full.  The first feeding each morning I could nurse him.  Still I was able to pump extra to give.

We went home and I continued to freeze the extra milk so that I could ship it.  And...little by little I began trying to introduce one feeding back at a time.

And he nursed.  Not like I had imagined.  One side, 3-5 minutes and he was done.  But he was full.  He was nursing.  Soon he was nursing at every feeding and would just take a bottle during the last feeding when he would cluster feed.

Months passed like this.  But I still pumped in the morning after he nursed.  Soon I had over 900 oz to ship.

My pumping was not in vain.  My anxiety and depression over not being able to nurse was not in vain.  I was able to have a double blessing to give.  And, it seemed that I was being given back the blessing of being able to nurse.  Almost as if God allowed me to not be able to nurse so that I would pump and be able to donate my breast milk and once I was donating, to allow Edmund to nurse again.  There was no rhyme or reason why he nursed again.  He just did.  Just like there was no rhyme or reason why he stopped.

The day Edmund turned seven months old he nursed the whole day without needing the bottle.  I could have wept tears of joy.

But I decided that I would not give up pumping.  I wanted to continue to give from this double blessing.

Soon I will be pumping less as I get ready to tell my body that I don't need to make as much, in preparation for weaning Edmund.  But for now, I save every extra ounce and praise God for the incredible blessing of being able to pump.

I feel joy in saying that I am glad I couldn't exclusivity nurse Edmund in the beginning.  Glad I had to pump.  Because then I could give. God gave me a double blessing.

I feel joy in saying that God also gave me a triple blessing because now I do exclusively nurse my son.

This is not the journey I imagined when I was pregnant.

But because it is different, harder in ways, I have more blessings to count.

Reverence

Many people talk about reverence in a church's sanctuary, and most of us have an opinion about what it should look like. What should reverence look like? I am increasingly convinced that in all truthfulness reverence is far more humble and holy than I would have expected from myself or others. But God is a holy, perfect God. These thoughts carried over into my whole religious experience within a matter of hours. I felt that I could not approach God because I am not reverent enough, and my idea of reverence, and holy, is rather irreverent, and unholy. And then I read this passage tonight:

"A certain man from [the Gadarenes] [met Jesus] who had demons for along time....When he saw Jesus, he cried out, fell down before Him, and with a loud voice said, 'What have I to do with You, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg You, do not torment me!...' For [the unclean spirit] had often seized him, and he was kept under guard, bound with chains and shackles; and he broke the bonds and was driven by the demon into the wilderness....Then they went out to see what had happened, and came to Jesus, and found the man from whom the demons had departed, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind....Now the man from whom the demons had departed begged Him that he might be with Him."

When I think back to my past, like this demoniac I was often irreverent in prayer and action. I am often still unholy in my thoughts toward God, careless and indifferent more than I ought to be. But God still loves me just as Jesus still loved this demon-controlled man.

God's love toward us in our irreverence, and complete unholiness, is so, so very good, that we are compelled to come to Him in true reverence. The love of God for us in our worst is what brings us to our best. Our thanksgiving in His love is the beginning true reverence. For the record, I am thankful that God is love.

Dedication: I almost missed it

Sabbath, July 5, 2014 we had Edmund dedicated at the Livingston Fellowship church. My father and brother were there to stand up with us.



I have to admit that I did not expect to be emotional about it at all.  I thought it would just be a happy event with smiles and no tears.  And it was a happy event.  But there were tears too.  At least for me.


John Cook did the dedication and prayer of dedication, but before that he shared a few Bible verses.

Deuteronomy 6:5-9
 5 Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. 6 These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. 7 Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. 8 Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. 9 Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates.

As soon as John said Deuteronomy 6:5 I looked at Matthew.  



That is the verse we had chosen for Edmund's Bible verse.  We chose it no knowing John would use it, and he didn't know that it was special to us.  This is just one of the many ways God shows His love and presence in our lives.

These are the other two verses.

Matthew 18:2-6

 He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. 3 And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5 And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. 6 “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. 

Mark 10:13-16
13 People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them. 14 When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. 15 Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” 16 And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.




Before the prayer of dedication John asked Matthew and I three questions.
Do you as parents confirm your commitment to a surrendered life in Jesus Christ?
By God's grace will you raise your child in the love and truth of Jesus our Lord and Savior?
Do you dedicate your child into the hand of our compassionate Almighty God, desiring His glorious will for Edmund's life?

As John asked those questions I felt this feeling overwhelm me, This almost wasn't me.  I almost wasn't here to say, "Yes!" to these questions.

There was a time in high school where I was sure that though God existed, He did not care about me, and so I did not care about Him.  But through the loving faith of others I saw His love for me and began on a new journey to know Him.

Standing there, holding Edmund with Matthew's hand on my waist I felt all I would have missed. My relationship with Matthew began because of our individual relationships with God and wanting to serve Him. Our marriage is loving and strong today because we kept committing ourselves to God even in the hard times- and we still do. We have Edmund because we prayed for God's will for us in having a family and God said, "Yes!"

Then John asked the church family these questions:
Will you join in dedicating this precious child to our gracious God?
Will you love encourage and nurture and pray for this family?
Will you assist in working toward a future day when this child and all our children  will by God's grace make a personal decision for Jesus and for baptism?

Beyond just my amazing family of Edmund and Matthew I would have missed my church family.  When I think of those in the church that are more than family to me, my heart swells.  They are ones who have been Jesus' hands and feet in my life, in my marriage, and now there are some who are joining to partner up with Matthew and I as we raise Edmund for God.

This almost wasn't me.  But it is.  By God's amazing grace it is.  I almost missed out on all this.

Sabbath, September 20, 2014 we had Edmund dedicated at Cookeville SDA church.  The White's were there to celebrate with us.  And Edmund was awake this time.

It is an amazing thing to dedicate your child to God, and to me the most amazing part is that there is this whole body of believers standing up next to you joining you in praying for your child to have a personal walk with Jesus and will be the village to help you do that.

I love this little boy.  He is teaching me about God's love for me.  I'm so thankful.  So incredibly thankful that I said Yes! to Jesus all those years ago and didn't let bitterness take away all the joy that was to come.