Learning to See Beyond Red

Back when we first brought Tadesse and Biruk home, we struggled so much to communicate. Behaviors that were acceptable in Ethiopia were not acceptable here, and without the language to explain it, we struggled. There were the big things like hitting and kicking, yes, but also a myriad of smaller behaviors like sitting on a stranger's car or grabbing a toy a sibling was playing with. 

We made a mistake—one of many, in fact—in those early days of our time together. Knowing that elementary teachers use a card system of green, yellow, and red to indicate when a child was doing great (green), when one was starting to show patterns of misbehavior or sometimes pushing our buttons both figuratively and literally (yellow), as well as when the child had really messed up (red), we decided to try it. Once  a person's red card was up, he or she lost allowance for the week. Even without the benefit of a common language, my two new boys understood very quickly how the cards worked.

What I Know

We are in the midst of a difficult week. Behaviors seem illogical and we are often left scratching our heads, trying to make sense of things far beyond our understanding.

I may not know a lot, but here's what I do know:

1. I cannot control someone else's attitude, but I can control my own.

"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you" (Philippians 4: 8-9).

2. I do not need to own someone else's problems, but I can help when he is ready.

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up" (Galatians 6: 9).

3. Prayer is effective.

"Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know"(Jeremiah 33: 3).

4. Worry is not.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid" (John 14: 27).

5. God is in control.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you" (Deuteronomy 31: 6).

6. God's timing is perfect.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end" (Ecclesiastes 3: 11).

7. I can't expect to know all the answers, but I can rest in knowing that God does. 

"Great is our Lord and mighty in power; His understanding has no limit" (Psalm 147: 5).

8. I must strive to be patient.

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer" (Romans 12: 12).

9. My love may not be perfect, but I need to love anyway.

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins" (1 Peter 4: 8).

10.  I can find blessings in the little things.

"Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus" (1 Thessalonians 5: 18).

11. I am loved.

"This is how God showed his love among us: He sent His one and only Son into the world that we might live through Him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and His love is made complete in us" (1 John 4: 9-12).

Simple Progress

Well, friends, I think this is the best weekend we've had so far.

Biruk, Tadesse, and Jerome playing Sorry.
By the way, my husband is a pretty awesome dad.

I finally feel like Jerome and I are starting to figure our boys out. A few illustrations: Tadesse and Biruk are competitive—HIGHLY competitive. When I really need them to hurry, I make it a contest of first (champion, "wiener"), second, and third places. That kicks Biruk up a few notches since he is a natural lollygagger. Elijah, who knows exactly what effect I'm looking for, continues to get ready at his pace and just says, "Slow and steady wins the race." This morning Elijah got third place.

Adoption: What I've Learned So Far

Tadesse and Biruk have been home for 74 days. Every day we are learning something new: sometimes about their resilience, sometimes about our resilience, sometimes about the capacity of the human spirit to be loved and to love.

1. Grief is real--for everyone. Our first couple of weeks home, we had enough family tears to  last a lifetime. Some days it was my turn because I could not fathom how to meet everyone's needs at the same time. Some days it was Elijah's turn because this place where he had always been so safe suddenly became emotionally unstable and draining. Some days it would be Tadesse's turn because these strange people have strange rules and strange foods. And some days it was a rough day for us all.

Tender Mercies

As usual, I had to have a rough evening before I could experience the blessing of the next day.

Last night I was tired. Lately I've felt like I could sleep 24 hours straight, yet my body only lets me sleep about seven hours, even when I take something like Advil PM to help me sleep. The result of going to bed early is waking up at 3:30 or 4:00 a.m., still feeling exhausted and emotional.

...And Now, for the Rest of the Story...

In my last blog, I explained my awakening in recognizing that both my husband and my God have my back, so today I'm going to explain how letting some of that baggage go has lightened my load. So as Paul Harvey used to say, "And now, for the rest of the story!"

Here's what's happened since:

1. I quit my job in teaching and reviewed my calling. First, I was a marketing editor for a few years (a job I loved, by the way), and then I decided to stay home. When people ask me to introduce myself, I no longer say, "I'm Tami and a teacher" or "I'm Tami and an editor." Most the time, it's just "I'm Tami," and people think I have this deeply mysterious quality about me. (Okay, that's not true, but it sounds intriguing, doesn't it?) In identifying myself as my career, I took the me out of it, and you know what? I missed the me.

2. My family thinks I'm a new and improved person. I still hate to cook. I wouldn't know what to do if you put me in front of a sewing machine. My garden is still a couple of wilting flowers in an expanse of weedy mulch. (I didn't say I turned into Martha Stewart. Give me a break here.) I do, however, have more patience, more time, and more creativity. I pay attention to the casual conversations instead of trying to multi-task all the time.

 3. I am gaining some guts. Since I have time, last year I took up piano lessons again and this year I started taekwondo. I used to constantly fear looking foolish, and I guess that was pride. Now I'm starting to see that a person may look foolish for a while, but he isn't as foolish as someone who is too scared to try. And did I mention we're adopting??!!

 4. This blog has become more than a casual friend. Sometimes I feel absolutely driven to write, like I'm going throw up words if I don't quickly get them out. (I bet that conjured up some great images.) While we're on the subject of my blog, I apologize if I over share. Someone who loves me once cautioned me to protect myself a little more because people may judge me by the feelings I confess. Here's what I believe: I can't afford not to be vulnerable. First, if you like me, I want you to like me for who I truly am. Second, if my life circumstances or thoughts help you overcome something, then that gives me—and my middle-of-the-night thoughts—purpose. Your encouragement over the past few years has really helped me to continue with this writing. Thanks. Also thanks to my husband who, when I ask if he cares if I share one of our personal conversations, swallows and says "Go ahead" because he, too, hopes it will help someone.

 5. It has helped me step out in faith. My earnings from work were our consistent income, and Jerome's income was of the sometimes-here, sometimes-not variety. It was scary to give that up and quite difficult for me (still) to think of the farming income and lifestyle as ours instead of my husband's, which brings me to number six.

 6. My marriage has improved because we are more of a team. I hit the jackpot when I married this man; I really did. This man has patience with my weaknesses and shouts my strengths louder than anyone I know. He is compassionate and sensitive and strong all at the same time, and he sometimes knows what I'm going to feel even before I feel it. I used to think of his job as "the other woman" and was completely jealous of the time "she" kept him away from me. Now I realize that she is merely a tractor, a field of corn, or an engine with an issue, and I am able hang out with Jerome whenever I want (and he kinda likes it when I do).

7. Finally, I realized that I determine my level of joy. I can be a pessimist or an optimist. I can be a complainer or an uplifter. I can have the can-do attitude or the poor-me attitude. I can choose to love people and life or just see each day as an obstacle to get over. I have to think about this when my attitude heads south or my heart is heavy with painful thoughts. I am choosing contentment.  I am happy to be here. Right here. Right now. And I'm happy you're on the journey with me.

Homecoming Matters

This is homecoming week in my hometown, and while I attended the coronation ceremony last night and enjoyed watching some great kids get recognition, I want to speak to the teenagers for a moment.

While those selected should feel honored by their classmates, in the long run this kind of thing just doesn't matter. I graduated almost 25 years ago. Yes, next year I'll be one of those old people riding by on a

homecoming float and throwing candy to the kids. But you know what? At coronation last night I had to look at the program's list of previous masters of ceremonies and homecoming queens because I couldn't remember who was on royalty when I was a senior.

You know those 13 years you've spent with each other? As sad as this is, once you graduate you will never see some of your classmates again, and some of them will remain your lifelong friends, as familiar to you at the age of 42 as they were at 17.

Young friends, these are my former classmates whom I'm impressed with today:

1. Those who have gone on and made a difference. Some have become well educated and are doctors, teachers, pastors, and scientists. Some have become parents and are wholly committed to raising kids  who demonstrate leadership and character. Some have opened local businesses and are generous to our community with their time and resources. Some have gone on a worldwide pursuit of service in the military and as missionaries. All of the people I've mentioned have put the focus on the needs of others and are committed to whatever they feel called to do.

The number two? There isn't one. Because being the whole person you were created to be—one who makes a positive difference in the lives of others—is really the only thing that matters. We're counting on you, young people, to focus on running the race before you with that clear goal in mind.

And please don't forget: we love all of you.

Home

I have so many wonderful memories from childhood. Most of them are tied somehow to this place, the only house I remember living in until the day I was married. My room was on the second level on the front side of the house and was a bright yellow, and one wall had wallpaper with yellow flowers and a white lace bedspread. Now, I've never been a yellow-room kind of person, but this was the design of the previous occupant, my oldest sibling June. (Thanks, June. No sarcasm. Really. Okay, maybe a little bit.)

Through Thick and Thin

Last week, according to major news stories, Pat Robertson claimed that if a person's spouse has Alzheimer's disease, divorce is acceptable. I am confident that he is wrong.

When my dad was 60 years old, he was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. Since Dad's mom and brother had previously died from the disease, the diagnosis was hardly a shock to us, yet no amount of preparation can prepare a family for what Alzheimer's does. Dad retired because of it, and he and my mom moved to Sioux Falls where he could be cared for more easily. Since she is younger by seven years, Mom continued (and still continues) to work.

My Road Rage Blessing

Have you ever driven somewhere only to realize that you only remember half the trip?

I used to drive 18 miles to work in Hawarden. On the way to and fro, my mind would get lost in my plans. Those 18 miles were an escape, a time to think. Unfortunately, I wasn't always thinking quite enough about driving.

One odd mile and a quarter-long stretch of road had two stop signs. These signs were in the middle of nowhere, just a place where various roads met up in an unusual configuration.

On this particular day, I noticed that a lady was trying to flag me down, and she was anything but happy with me. "Do you realize you just ran that stop sign?" she asked.

I had no idea at all. I rarely saw more than five cars on my way to work each morning, so evidently I was allowing myself to zone out while driving that particular stretch of lonesome road.

My mouth fell open. How to respond? I thought. After a moment, I told her no, I didn't realize I'd run the stop sign and then proceeded to offer profuse thanks for stopping me to tell me. It was her turn to let her jaw drop.

That woman (whose name I did not ask) could very well have saved my life or another person's life. I think we all know people who have died after running stop signs or have been T-boned by someone who has made that mistake. It had to take a little bravery on her part to stand up to me, someone whom she didn't know, and someone who probably could have responded in an entirely different way.

Unfortunately, it's not always that easy. It's much more convenient to act defiant and defensive, especially when someone holds me accountable for something that I know is true. I need to remember, though, that holding someone accountable in a loving way (and trust me, loving is the operative word) is loyal. It is true. It is just.

Being judgmental and holding someone accountable are two completely different things. Being judgmental is complaining  about someone without giving him a chance to improve. Being judgmental makes forgiveness and reconciliation difficult. Accountability, on the other hand, shows the other person that you know he is capable of being better, of becoming a bigger person. Holding someone accountable is humbling both for the giver and the receiver.

Keep this mind next time someone who cares about you approaches you with the difficult task of holding you accountable. Remember that in doing so, he is considering you worthy of the personal cost.

Move-in Day

Yesterday Caleb moved back to his college dorm, and today I’m making the four-hour trek to deliver his car to him. I’ll admit that I’m feeling some trepidation as I begin this day. I haven't forgotten how I felt last year following freshman move-in day.

According to the story in 1 Kings 3, there was once a king named Solomon who made judgments on the disagreements between his people. When two women came to him, both claiming to be the mother of a baby, Solomon told the women that he would have the child cut in two, giving each woman half. Of course, the real mom would allow no such thing and quickly gave up her claim on the child, which resulted in Solomon’s ruling that she was the rightful parent.

I have no doubt that Solomon was a wise man blessed by God, but the one who intrigues me is the mother. How difficult it must have been for her to give up her rights to her baby no matter how much she knew that giving him up was necessary for his protection.

I question whether I can apply that same measure of love, allowing my children to grow up, make mistakes, and even experience success apart from me. 

Letting go began the moment Caleb began to walk. It continued when we encouraged him to deal with playground squabbles himself and when, after delivering forgotten homework to the school for the umpteenth time, I told him that if he forgot again, I wouldn’t bail him out by dropping off his work. The steps were incremental, but the result of it all is starting to sink in.

Even though this process is hard—and likely harder on Caleb than it is on me—I know that relinquishing him to God’s plan is simply the right thing to do.

Caleb will always have not just a place in our home, but his place as a member of our family, and I will continue to feel that a part of my heart is missing when he is not here. I know, though, that by letting go of my son, I’m freeing him to meet his calling, wherever that may take him. Today I simply pray that he feels God’s presence and guidance on along the way.