Ring Dammit

If anyone is still reading this poor, forsaken blog, I will be amazed. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Let me outline this for you dear interweb machine. We entered the adoption pool at the end of October. It is now July (or will be in a couple hours). THAT'S 8 LONG MONTHS WITH NARY A SINGLE CALL!

"But Lori," you say, "isn't the average wait around 10 months."

Excellent point.

"Haven't placements been slow in general lately?"


Yes, they have. Another good point.

"And shouldn't your focus be on the right match, not the quickest match?"

Enough already. Nobody likes a know-it-all.

I want the right match, really I do. We want a life-long relationship with a birthfamily as much as we want a baby. But may I point out however that this wait has been nearly twice as long as the wait for both Ian and Lillian COMBINED?! So forgive me if common sense has taken a back seat right now as I battle through all of the unknowns.

I'm tossing out a humble prayer request to anyone who is still reading. Will you join me in praying that the right birthfamily and the right baby would come into our family at the right time? And in the meanwhile, grant me patience as I wait. I'm thankful Relay is a week away, work is keeping me busy and Ian keeps me running and laughing all at the same time.

Eternal life insurance

The second anniversary of Lillian's death came and went on April 4th. I thought about posting but I didn't have anything new to say. I thought this would get easier but I couldn't have been more wrong. I thought I was doing well but I forgot that grief is a roller coaster that can slam you face first into a brick wall without notice. Okay, I'll admit that analogy was muddled but still completely accurate. So forgive me if I'm a little melancholy.

The great thing about the cyber world (blogging, Facebook, Twitter, etc) is it's ability to make the world a smaller community. As I'm learning, that's also the difficult thing about the cyber world. The recent deaths of two children to prominent bloggers set the cyber world ablaze last week. Everywhere I turned there was sadness and anger and confusion and sympathy for these shell shocked families. And the outpouring managed to fuel the fire of sadness in my heart as well. I know all to well the difficult journey unfolding before these heartbroken parents and thus my soul aches for them. So forgive me if I'm a little withdrawn.

And then there's work. The Powers-That-Be are locked behind closed doors as they plan our fate. A few months ago, they announced the intention to layoff 3% of the work force. Needless to say, there has been an anxious vibe ever since. But now that it is obvious the layoff planning is reaching critical mass, the anxiety is palpable. So forgive me if I'm a little worried.

The cumulative effects of these events have crept into every corner of my world. During the busy moments, I move about happily taking each second as it comes. But during the quiet moments, my mind succumbs to the sadness and the worry. It's at those times that I pray. Beseeching God to give me peace. To heal my heart. To show me His plans for my future. But all I hear is the sound of my own desperate pleas.

This relationship between God and I has become lopsided. I ask and ask and ask, yet my Bible sits unopened and I haven't set foot in church for nearly a year. I haven't truly listened for answers.

Then it hit me. I'm treating God like my Eternal Life Insurance policy. By accepting Jesus as my Savior, I was issued a policy that will provide heavenly coverage for eternity, payable upon death. So I stick the policy in a drawer, glance at it every once in a while just to make sure everything is up to date and renew my coverage when I need to.

Okay, that's an exaggeration...but not by much. Today especially, I'm reminded of the willing sacrifice God made for me. And yet all I seem to focus on is the last word of that sentence...me. Shouldn't there be more to this relationship? I know God will give me strength when I am drowning in sadness. I know I will see my angel in heaven again. And if I lose my job, I know I will be okay. Because thankfully, God's love and grace are more steadfast than mine. And maybe I needed these events to remind me of that fact.

Women of Faith

Isn't it sad when work is a welcome break from the rush of life? Last weekend was a blur of busyness. In a good way. I spent Friday and Saturday at the Women of Faith conference. Great speakers, AMAZING music and 11,000 women in one arena. Here are my random observations:

• When 11,000 women take over an arena, all the bathrooms are converted to ladies rooms. The stereotypes about men's bathrooms are true. Right down to the graffiti on the stall which read "let it flow." Men are so profound.
• Watching Nicole C. Mullen sing one of my favorite songs "My Redeemer Lives" is magical. Watching her sign the song as she sings sucks the air right out of my lungs.
• I am likely the most annoying conference attender in the world. I comment on how cute the worship team's outfits are. I mutter questions during the speeches. I try to make a vegetarian meal out of arena concessions. I shiver and shift in my seat.
• Contrary to my prior statement, the lady sitting behind us was the most annoying conference attender in the world. Her Laugh. Her too-loud, too-giddy laugh. Like she had just sucked on a helium balloon before each punchline. It was so obnoxious that we had to laugh right along with her.
• One of the points that continues to bounce off the walls of my mind is that God does not want to waste one bit of our pain. We know life will be filled with trials. Christians are not exempt from pain. But God uses all things for good. We need to let him use every ounce of our pain so it has a purpose.
• Mandisa's smile is contagious. I have loved her music but as I don't watch American Idol, I've never seen her face. Her smile is as big as her voice. Beautiful.
• The conference would be half as long if they cut out the constant sales pitch for their books. But if I wrote a book, I'd be up there selling it just as hard.
• It must be hard to give the same speech or sing the same song or tell the same joke over and over in city after city without losing the impact. These speakers and singers are so gifted and genuine.
• Forget the t-shirts and hoodies, if they sold the outfits that the worship team were wearing, they'd make a fortune! Seriously.
• God speaks to me the loudest through music. I am thankful for radio stations like Air1 and artists like Mandisa and Nicole C. Mullen for allowing God to speak to me through them.

A busy but memorable weekend to be sure. A shout out and thank you to Becci for inviting me!