Um, remember how I said that God’s handprints were going to be evident all over this trip to Dallas?  Well….

Jeremiah 22:1-3 “God’s orders: “Go to the royal palace and deliver this Message. Say, ‘Listen to what God says,….”  “This is God’s Message: Attend to matters of justice. Set things right between people. Rescue victims from their exploiters. Don’t take advantage of the homeless, the orphans, the widows. Stop the murdering!”

Isaiah 6:8 “After this, I heard the LORD ask, “Is there anyone I can send? Will someone go for us?”

“I’ll go,” I answered. “Send me!”

In my little blogging-break over the past two months things have taken place in the Serbian adoption world that I can’t really write about.  But trust me.  They’re HUGE!  They’re the kind of things that make you slap your thigh and laugh out loud as you’re declaring that, “God is so freaking amazing!”

So Friday night, January 7th (I want to make sure that the date is documented), I climbed in a car with my BFF and her hubby and made the trek from their home to the trafficking awareness town-hall meeting.  It just so happened that we drove right past the turn to Texas Stadium and watched the crowds of LSU and Texas A&M fans making their way to what turned out to be a great football game.  Under ordinary circumstances I would have been disappointed that I was so close and not attending the game.  But this weekend has been far from ordinary.

Before the meeting began I helped with setup and then stepped to a quiet place to take care of a few real estate related phone calls.  With more than four hundred people present I did not have one single conversation before nor immediately after the event.  This may not seem strange if you do not know me, but for those who do, you’re probably going, “What?!?!”  I was asking myself and God that question.  I knew I was SUPPOSED to be there.  I knew I was SUPPOSED to make connections there.  It’s kinda hard to make connections when you don’t talk to anyone and I hadn’t managed to engage one single person in anything more than a, “Hey. How are you?” Before I could answer the, “How are you?” part, they were gone.

Note to self: Don’t ask people how they are unless you plan on actually listening to how they are.

The meeting consisted of eight panel members who represented several anti-trafficking groups and law enforcement agencies.  From my seat in the back I found that I kept focusing on this one particular woman and hearing three words over and over again.  “Go meet her.”  “Go meet her.”  “Go meet her.”  When this woman was introduced I didn’t hear anything that made me think I needed to connect with her, but those three words were playing like a broken record.  She gave a brief spiel about being a flight attendant and witnessing child trafficking on mission trips to Cambodia and the Dominican Republic.  She talked about training international flight attendants to look for trafficking since the airlines are the arteries of the international trafficking industry.  Cool speech, but I still didn’t see any connection.

As we prepared to leave and meet friends to watch the last quarter of the football game I told my BFF that I’d like to meet her boss.  Turns out that her boss was engaged in conversation and as we waited I looked to my left and saw “her” packing her things up.

I approached her and said, “Do you have any contact information?”

Her, “Are you coming to my training on the 31st?”

Me, “I don’t live here.  I live in DC.”

Her, “Me too!  I just moved there.  What do you do?”

Me, “I’m a realtor.”  And then I knew I had to tell her about Sofija.  “My husband and I adopted our daughter from Serbia this past April and I’m going back.”

She then slaps her thigh and says, “I just hung up the phone with Princess Katherine!  You know?  Princess Katherine and Crown Prince Alexander?  The royal family of Serbia?”

Me, “Sure?” (I’m quite certain that the scrunched up look on my brow gave away my lack of knowing who they were.)

Her, “I know!  I’m gonna train you to be my mission director and we’ll go back together.  You said you’re going back this spring, right?!  Princess Katherine wants us to do something for the orphans.”

Me, “Of course she does.” (with a hearty laugh at God’s coolness)

(somewhere in the midst of this she grabbed my hand and the BFF & I found ourselves bouncing up and down with her as she said, “Can you believe this?  God is so amazing?” ~ Why yes He is!)

Her, “She has a huge heart for children.  I know!  We can throw an Easter egg hunt on the palace lawn…..”

and on and on it went.  All before she even learned my name.

And….we live about ten minutes away from one another.  And….she asked me to go with her before congress on Tuesday.  And…something at the Kennedy Center that night.

And….GOD IS SO FREAKING AMAZING!!!    And….my Tigers spanked those Aggies’ butts.

Well there’s no apple pie up here (that I know of.  Because I can usually sniff them out a mile away), but this 1st blogpost of 2011 is coming to you from high in the sky (34,000ft to be exact) & it’s packed w/hope.  (If you don’t get the song reference…..She’s got hi-igh hopes.  She’s got hi-igh hopes.  She’s got high apple pie in the sky-y hopes.)

Today I packed my bags and climbed on board a plane heading for Dallas, Texas…..ALL BY MYSELF!!!

Yes, I know I shouldn’t sound so excited about it, but I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve gotten to bathe or even use the bathroom without an audience in the past eight months.  The alone time is not really why I’m so excited about this short little get-away.  A few months ago I got a message on facebook from the husband of a lifelong friend (my BFF).  He said that he would love for me to come out for her 40th birthday and that even though he wasn’t certain yet of the plans, he knew the date wouldn’t change. Oh yeah, it was supposed to be a surprise.  So I started looking for tickets that would get me to Dallas for January 8th, 2011.  About the same time I started looking at tickets, my BFF accepted an education position with an anti-trafficking organization called Traffic 911.

So the week before Christmas I send a message to the BFF’s hubby and tell him that I’m in.  A few hours later the BFF calls me screaming, “My husband CANNOT keep a secret”.  And then….”I’m so excited!  The anti-trafficking townhall meeting is on Friday the 7th.  You’ll be here for it!”  I didn’t bother to mention that I still didn’t have my flight booked and that I wasn’t sure that I’d be there in time for the meeting.  I spent a couple days looking for tickets before I realized that the 7th also happened to be the night of the Cotton Bowl, which just happens to be in Dallas.  And oh, by the way.  My LSU Tigers are playing her hubby’s A&M Aggies in that game.  I knew I was supposed to be there that weekend for all the reasons listed above and additionally because the literary agency that I believe is going to have me published this year just happens to be located in Dallas.  (More on that as it unfolds.)

So on Tuesday of this week, two days before I hoped to fly out, I still had no ticket and everything I looked at was ridiculously expensive.  I read a few travel blogs that suggested looking at travelocity’s flight+hotel last minute deals.  One said that you can save an average of $250 off of booking the flight alone.  And…I did.  And….I did.  And…I got non-stop flights both directions at the exact times that I hoped to fly out.

So now I sit here on a plane, at 34,000 feet, heading into what will (without a doubt) be a weekend covered with the hand-prints of God.

Isaiah 60:1 “Arise, Jerusalem (feel free to insert your own name, but I’m replacing Jerusalem with Kaci)! Let your light shine for all to see.
For the glory of the Lord rises to shine on you.

This is my verse for 2011.  I am filled with hope for what’s to come because the glory of the Lord rises just to shine on me.

2011, Show me what ya got!

On Friday I was shopping with Sofija and came across a huge selection of candy-scented lip-gloss, lip-balm and nail polish.  There was a box with eight different Nerds scented lip-balms.  Really?  Don’t get me wrong.  I love chomping on oddly shaped clumps of sour sugar as much as the next girl.  But I can’t really tell the difference between the smell of the grape or the watermelon and I had no clue that they actually come in eight different flavors.  I couldn’t get the box open so I bought them out of my stocking stuffer budget.  I’ll let you know on Christmas morning if there’s really any difference between wild cherry and lemon.

Speaking of….

Yesterday morning I woke up early and made breakfast for Chase before dropping him off to take the four hour entrance exam for Thomas Jefferson High School.  TJ is one of the best schools in the nation, but we’re totally leaving it in God’s hands as to whether or not he will go there.

I came home from dropping him off and began making breakfast for the rest of the family with Seth pacing the kitchen floors behind me.  I kept hearing “my wife” in his pretend, so I asked him who he plans to marry.  This question has always led to interesting answers so I found myself a little surprised when he responded with, “I don’t know.”  Seth ALWAYS has an answer.

I started going down the list of potential mates that he has vowed to wed over the past two years.  I would say a name and he would explain to me why he was certain that person just isn’t for him.  At the point where I was getting pretty impressed with his rationale “She’s not so nice to me.”  “She’s not so nice to other people.”  “She’s not a very good friend.”, I mentioned a girl from church that was the object of his affection some time ago.  Me: <girl’s name>  Seth: “I don’t know.  I’m not sure what she’s gonna look like when she grows up.  I mean, I want her to be smart and wear glasses, but I don’t want her to wear weird clothes.  You know.  I hope she’s not gonna be a nerd.”

I stopped stirring, turned to look at him, and said, “Seth, you do realize that me and Daddy and Kira and Chase are all nerds.  Don’t you?”

Seth: “WHAT!?!?!  But, I’m a cool kid.”

He then ran off for a couple of minutes.  I could hear him ranting about being stuck in a family full of nerds.  When the rant was done he returned to the kitchen and declared, “I’ve seen the light!  It’s no fun being a cool kid any more.  I’m gonna be a nerd like the rest of my family.”

So…I proudly introduce you to Nerd Mama, Nerd Tata, Nerd Kira, Nerd Chase, Nerd Seth and (future nerd) Sofija….

Isaiah 43:18-19 “¹⁸Forget what happened in the past,
and do not dwell on events from long ago.
¹⁹I am going to do something new.
It is already happening. Don’t you recognize it?
I will clear a way in the desert.
I will make rivers on dry land.”

After many weeks of assessments and meetings and tears, Sofija started her new school today.  She had her clothes on before her feet ever hit the floor and for the first time since we brought her home, she didn’t ask for food as soon as she awoke.  She said, “Let’s go to school!  Come on!  Let’s go ride the school bus!”

After rushing through her breakfast and getting frustrated over how long it took me to comb her hair, she camped out in the bay window in anticipation of the number one item on her life list.  The bright yellow school bus.

I was helping Seth pack his backpack when I heard the screeching of the bus brakes.  I have to confess that I love that sound myself.  My beloved Maw Maw drove a school bus for thirty-six years.  Screeching bus brakes are as comforting to me as mac & cheese or pot roast.  Before the screeching stopped Sofija had run down the stairs to our front door and swung it open.  Before I could catch up, she was on the front seat of the bus, clapping and squealing with delight as the attendant buckled her in.

When I picked her up from school at 12:30 I was told that the day went well until she realized that she doesn’t get to ride home on the school bus.  She was not so happy with me when I told her that she had to ride home in Stan the Van.  I however, was quite content.  Nobody looked frazzled or overwhelmed and I realized very quickly that Sofija knew that she belonged there and she understood what is expected of her there.  Without a doubt, she’s in the right place.

The afternoon was spent interviewing behavioral therapist.  Our river is flowing.  We have three to choose between and right now I’m just praying that God will make the choice so evident that we don’t really have to think about it.  The crazy part is that all three options are pretty spectacular.  One of them comes with a sidekick who is working on HIS board certification as a behavioral therapist.  It is so much easier for men to establish a role in Sofija’s life just because she has had every type of dysfunctional female relationship.  So option 1 has that going for it.  Option 2 is married to a Serbian and understands the culture and the language.  Option 3 has spent her career working with post-institutionalized children.  Like I said.  Our river is flowing.  Thank you, God, for amazing options!

Can you recognize that something new is happening?  I can feel it in the depths of my soul.  I am bursting with anticipation over what I’m about to witness in the life of my child.

And I have faith that God already has the details worked out.  He’s already chosen who will be a part in this chapter of Sofija’s story.

Deuteronomy 31:8 “The Lord himself will go ahead of you. He will be with you. He will never leave you. He’ll never desert you. So don’t be afraid. Don’t lose hope.”

I awoke this morning, vomited, chewed up two pepto pills and prayed that I could make it through a three hour meeting without puking on anyone with the power to negatively impact my children’s educations.

Half an hour later, I repeated the cycle.

I dropped the stemmers at school at 9am, ran home and repeated it a third time.

At 10am I arrived at the school and joined the room full of people who had gathered to decide where and how Sofija should be educated.

She will attend the school we prayed for.  She will be loved (They already love her :)).  She will get to ride a school-bus every morning (She’s ecstatic about that part).  Her current school will anxiously await her return as soon as she’s ready.  I did not cry alone in that room and there’s something about seeing other people cry over the future they see in your child that brings unexplainable peace.  As I arrived home, I became once again aware that my belly was still burning, but it didn’t really matter.  The glow in my spirit was burning much brighter.

God’s handprint was on every second of the morning.  As I sat to reflect on this fact,  Sofija came skipping into the family room.  She turned and skipped out as quickly as she had entered and in the process, without ever looking up, she shouted out, “Love you, Mama.”

Before I exited the building at the end of the morning’s three hour meeting, I saw Seth carrying his lunch tray through the office with a counselor.  He winked at me and said, “We’re having a lunch date.”  When I picked him up from school and asked about his day, he told me that he had an amazing day except for the part when his friend told him a very bad joke.  That’s why he needed a lunch date with a counselor.

Me: “What kind of bad joke?”

Seth: “The kind you don’t want to hear.”

Me: “Seth, tell me what you heard.” ~ I then prepared myself to hear something vulgar come from the mouth of my precious baby boy.

Seth: “He said something bad about you and then he frettened you.  He said (long dramatic pause with head bowed, eyes closed and in a much quieter than normal voice), “Step on a crack, break your mama’s back.  You stepped on a crack and broke your Mother’s back.  Now your Mom is gonna die.”

Me: “Seth, did you know that’s ju…” ~rude interruption

Seth:  “MAMAAA!  Did you hear me?  He was trying to make a joke about hurting and killing you.  Somebody needs to teach him that it’s not a joke.”

Me: “Seth, did you hurt him?”

Seth: “No, Mama.  But I did a great job of protecting my family. Huh?!”

Now you might think the day just couldn’t get any more entertaining.  But you’d be thinking wrong.

We learned earlier in the week that there is a potluck dinner for families with special needs children on the last Friday of the month at our local military installation.  The director of our local Army Community Service center left a message this morning asking us to attend because there was another mom that she really wanted me to meet.  I had managed to keep down a bagel so I thought the experience might not be so bad.  For me and the stemmers, it wasn’t.  For my dear husband and teenagers, it was torture (Although they let out some pretty hearty laughs watching a group of the kids doing Wii dance sensation) .  Waaaay too many women for the husband.  Waaaay too many stemmers for the teenagers.

On the way out the door, Chase (the 13yo) was complaining about Seth’s “pretending”.  For those of you who don’t know.  Pretending is Seth’s word for his stemming.  A common phrase in his vocabulary for several years has been, “AGGGHHH! Stop! Interrupting!  My pretend!”

He is like a little sound machine.  If you’d like to see for yourself, he can be seen on any afternoon pacing the walk between our front door and the driveway while making sound effects and sporadically bouncing or swinging his arms in the process of  slaying dragons or acting out whatever scene is playing in his head.  It is NOT normal pretend.  It is loud and it is constant.  It is filled with twitching and jerky movements and shrill awful noises.  And it can make Chase crazy.

So there was Chase complaining about his brother’s pretend and how the noise was physically hurting his ears when Kira says, “Chase, your autism’s showing.”)  This is a common phrase in our house.  When you live with two children on the spectrum, you start to notice that everyone else in the house could probably fit on it somewhere.)  Chase’s response: “I know.  I have ASD.  Annoying Sibling Disorder.”

Ten minutes later we’re in the car riding home and Seth says, “I was born to pretend.  It’s just what I was mostly made to do.”

To top off the wonderful wit of my children, I got a phone call to arrange an interview with an in-home ABA therapist who just happens to be married to a someone from Serbia and who understands the language AND I got a personal, in-depth email from THE Dr. Federici suggesting another ABA therapist and giving me his input and a suggestion on Sofija.

I’m sure that there are other moments that I missed, but that’s officially the end of the entertainment.

It’s been One Fine Friday.

I have two blogposts that I’ve started in the past two weeks that both still need to be completed, but I feel like I need to quickly document the happenings of today.

Sofija is changing schools.  We will have her IEP meeting in the morning and she will likely start her new school on Monday.

I visited the two potential new schools today and I’m just a big ball of emotions at the moment.  The first school is right behind my office and less than a mile from Kira’s high school.  Since I’m gonna have four kids in four different schools, the idea of keeping her in the neighborhood is highly appealing.  Not only is the school very near to us, but they have an autism program with thirty students spread between five or six classrooms and there are 2-4 adults in each room at all times.  I got warm fuzzies just walking in the building and to sweeten the deal, the psychologist who has been working with Sofija, is shared with that school.  This is a HUGE deal to me.  This wonderful woman would actually provide some continuity in her day if Sofija is placed there.

The second school is a HORRIBLE fit.  It is far enough away that if Sofija was assaulting a student, I could never make it there in time to offer any assistance.  In fact, it’s far enough away that I would rarely make it there at all because my other three are all in neighborhood schools and do not receive transportation.  It is designed for students with profound disabilities.  Almost every child I saw was non-ambulatory and I kept having visions of Sofija whacking one of them or pulling them out of their wheel chair, hopping in and saying, “Let’s go for a ride!” (She actually said to a gentleman two weeks ago, “Get up!  Sofija go ride.”)  The kicker came when the director tells me and the assistant principle from her current school (who kindly drove me around town) that the average cognitive level of her students is “9-18months, but we do have a few who range up to 24-36months”.  What???  All of Sofija’s assessments were done in English and still she falls somewhere above the 3yo range.  But…they do have an indoor pool.  Sofija would probably try to drown one of those non-ambulatory students, but she would be able to go “swooming”.

I had to write about all of this because decisions are being made as I type as to where she will attend.  Please pray for wisdom on the part of the administrators, for peace for me and the Tata, and for our baby girl to be comfortable and accepting of this big transition.

Thank you!

I found myself telling Seth tonight that he shouldn’t give halfhearted apologies.  In an instant, I became my Mother.  Which got me to thinking.  What on earth does halfhearted mean?

halfhearted – adj Exhibiting or feeling little interest, enthusiasm, or heart; uninspired

Which got me to thinking about what a wholehearted apology looks like.

wholehearted – adj. Exhibiting no reserve or reservation

wholeheartedly – adv. Marked by unconditional commitment, unstinting devotion, or unreserved enthusiasm

Half a year has passed since the day we signed a piece of paper that made Sofija legally ours.  In some ways it seems ridiculous that six whole months have passed, but in some ways it seems ridiculous that she’s only been our daughter for six months.  We love her wholeheartedly.  Without reservation, we are unconditionally committed, undeniably devoted, and unreservedly enthusiastic about being her parents.

If you’ve followed our entire adoption journey, you know that our Gotcha Day was not one we choose to commemorate.  However, I did take a moment today to stop and skim through my memories of April 27th in search of some humor..

It was refreshing to realize that there were several moments in the day that I can now laugh out loud over.  As we left the adoption ceremony in a mad dash to get her new birth certificate, passport and visa in two short hours, our lawyer flagged down two cabs on the side of a very busy thoroughfare.  In the middle of our effort to climb into the vehicles as quickly as possible, Sofija lifted her dress and squatted to pee on the curb.  She didn’t bother to pull down her tights or panties and she was close enough to the doorway of the taxi that the driver began screaming at her and shaking his hand in the air.  At the time, I was horrified.  Six months and several urine-scented outings later, it’s pretty funny.

The last leg of our mad dash was from the police station (where we applied for her passport) to the American embassy.  The walk was two short blocks, straight up a hill.  Sofija had decided at the police station that she was done walking.  I think I wrote about how many times she would do the rag-doll thing and just go limp as we walked down the street, holding her hand.  About half-way up the last block of hill that lead to the embassy, she dropped to the ground.  To be honest, we were all tired and I was wondering if it would be totally inappropriate for me to just drop to the ground and take a rest next to her.  I didn’t have long to wonder.  She had no intentions of just resting.  She started flailing all around.  In her attempt to kick every one of us as quickly as possible she began spinning around on her back in a form that closely resembled break-dancing.

The sidewalk we were on had about thirty-six inches of space between the building to our right and the busy street to our left.  The seven of us (our family and the lawyer) were taking up all of those thirty-six inches of sidewalk.  The dozens of pedestrians using the sidewalk at the same time of us were all a little bewildered by the scene we were creating.  Most of them stepped into the street in order to keep as much distance from our little break-dancer as possible.  One brave gentleman chose a different path.  Wearing a nice business suit and shiny leather shoes, he clenched his briefcase tightly in one hand and a folder tightly in the other as he attempted to step over Sofija.

Big mistake!  I think I tried to warn him, but I was screaming in English and I’m sure he just thought I was an obnoxious American.  One foot lifted off the ground and landed safely on the downhill side of her.  The other shiny shoe only made it half the distance.  We realized at that moment that our daughter has lightning fast reflexes.  She went from thrashing all around to holding his shoe in both of her hands and his ankle in between her teeth.  As I sit here typing I can’t stop laughing.  He shook her off!  It was like a picture of a postman with his arms full of mail and a little dog nipping at his ankle.  Except it wasn’t a little dog.  It was my child.

Oh, well.  We all survived the day (including the brave businessman) and right now the visual is pretty stinkin’ funny.

Phew….I’m still laughing wholeheartedly.

I can’t say this half-year has been all belly laughs.  In fact it hasn’t even been full of laughing halfheartedly.  But it has been full of the same kind of wholehearted love for all four of my children as I have for my God.

Deutoronomy 11:13-14 “If you carefully obey the commands I am giving you today and love the Lord your God and serve him WHOLEHEARTEDLY, then he will send rain on your land at the right time, in the fall and spring, and you will be able to gather your grain, new wine, and oil.”

I kinda like that promise.  And after the huge harvest we’ve seen in the past six months, I can’t wait to see what we’ll reap in this next wholehearted half-year.

Have you ever seen the movie Parenthood?  If not, I highly recommend it.  There’s a part near the end of the movie where the grandmother talks about the ride.    Some people like the tilt-a-whirl and all the rides that spin you around and around.  “Personally, I like the roller-coasters.”

The summer I turned eleven I discovered that I was tall enough to ride the BIG roller coasters.  My first big ride was on The Mindbender at Six Flags in Atlanta.  I rode it with my Dad and he lost his glasses in one of the loops.  I remember the anticipation before that very first loop.  I had no clue what it was going to feel like.  The anticipation of the unknown took my breath away.  And then ninety seconds later.  I climbed out of my seat disappointed at how quickly it all came to an end.

After a slow gradual climb that sometimes seems never-ending our family will arrive at a spot where we feel on top of the world.  The drops are quick and always have a few loops in them, but they just lead to another slow gradual climb back to the top.  Our life is a roller-coaster.

My dear hubby was out of town last week and I was having a hard time breathing when I tried to figure out how to get everything accomplished without him here.  On Tuesday morning Sofija had an appointment for a school physical.  Her behavior for the two days before her appointment had been nothing less than horrific.  She was throwing tantrums all day and nothing I did could console her.  The minute the doctor checked her ears, it all made sense.  Her left eardrum was full of pus to the point that it was about to rupture.  I had no clue she was even feeling bad. Parent of the year award goes to….. She began antibiotics that day and on Thursday I decided that she was okay to return to school.

Okay, to be honest, I NEEDED her to go to school.  Dear hubby had been in Arizona all week which just happens to be three hours behind.  I waited up on Sunday night to hear that he had arrived.  The call did not come until 2am and I had to be up at 6am to start the morning routine.  The next night I just couldn’t sleep and somewhere around 5am I just gave up and made a pot of coffee.  I stayed up Tuesday night talking to friends and on Wednesday planned to go to bed early before I crashed and burned.  Then dear hubby found a way to come home early.  Great news!  For less than ninety seconds I was on top of the world and then he asked me to pick him up at 12:05am.  Just to salt my sleepy wound….you guessed it, his flight was delayed.

After a combined total of twelve hours of sleep, covering the four nights that dh was away, I was sympathizing with my Dad and his lost glasses.  I couldn’t see straight after being thrown the loop of another almost sleepless night.  Sofija NEEDED to go to school.

With an anticipated three hours of time to focus on something other than parenting and a two-page to-do list, I got thrown another loop.  Forty-five minutes after she was dropped off the phone rang.  She had bitten her teacher.  We’re talking the kind of bite that could have earned her an invitation to join the Cullen clan.

Her Tata went to pick her up completely prepared to withdraw her.  We’ve discussed on several occasions that if she just could not handle school right now, we would withdraw her and try again in January or even wait until next fall.  The principal instantly said, “No.”  He insisted that they want her there and that they are willing to do whatever it takes to insure that she can learn.  The school had already contacted the county and asked for a behavioral therapist to start coming to the school to work with her.  They want her there.  They want her to learn.  They care about her.  Thank you again, God, for answered prayers.

Mrs. M is this wonderful amazing angel that God just dropped down in our path.  She is a resource teacher that just happens to be assigned to both of my little stimmers.  She spends her mornings with my baby girl and her afternoons with my baby boy.  She walked Seth to the van that afternoon and I had to hold back tears as I saw just how awful her arm looked.  My little vampire had not only bitten the crap out of her arm, when she was told that she had hurt Mrs. M, she grabbed the underside of her arm and dug her fingernails in.  That arm was black and blue and bloody.

As I sat there trying to deal with the guilt, the slow gradual climb of the day reached the top of the world.  She told me that the school social worker had applied for homebound studies for Sofija for the time being.  And then….she informs me that she offered to be the teacher who comes to our house to teach her.  She said that she could just bring all of the materials that she’s been using at school to our house in order to keep up some continuity. And…”I just love her and I can’t imagine not seeing her every day.”

You gotta be kiddin’ me.  My child assaulted you and you still want to see her every day?  Mrs. M, you may just be hearing the call to adopt.

Friday afternoon I met new clients at a house they planned to see.  As I pulled up, there were already two cars and four people in the driveway.  I had never met my clients face-to-face, so I couldn’t instantly identify them.  As I climbed out of my car, a woman came towards me saying, “Are you Kaci?  I just went up to that other woman and hugged her and said how nice it was to meet her and she’s from Yugoslavia or something.  They’re waiting for a realtor to show them the house.”  As we walked toward the house, I paused to introduce myself to the other people and it hit me.  “from Yugoslavia”  I interrupted her and asked, “Where are you from?”  Response, “Serbia (of course).  I’ve been here one month.”  Before we left, she gave me her card and her personal information and said, “I think I should help you with something and I’m here.”  Uh, yeah.  Don’t know what God’s putting together, but at that moment I was once again on top of the world.  I know it’s something GOOD!

That first big roller coaster ride for me was disappointing because of how quickly it was over.  Although in my young mind it seemed like I could see the entire state of Georgia from that first peak, we were up there so briefly that I barely had time to take in the view.

Today, I paused to take in the picture of my life at the moment.  It’s a joyful sight to behold.  I was driving the carpool line today and smiling about the fact that God has given me a team of people that care about my children and who are all working with me and dear hubby to help them reach their potential.  I smiled bigger when I thought of ANOTHER new Serbian friend who I feel certain is going to step alongside me in this purpose God is working out.  I smiled even bigger when I thought about how much I’m loved by my maker and how He never fails to provide.  And then….I watched an envelope being placed in Seth’s hand.  An envelope with his name written on it by another fourth grade boy.  A typical fourth grade boy.  A boy who wants Seth to come over on Sunday for his birthday party.  It is the very first birthday party invitation he has ever received from a “friend”.  By the time we got home I was crying like a baby.  Another answered prayer….Seth has a friend and he’s been invited to a birthday party.  Four hours later, the smile was still painted on my face as  the phone rang.  Thinking that the view couldn’t get any better, I answered it, listened, and choked back more tears as another of his classmates’ mothers asked for my email so she could invite Seth to come over for a lazer-tag party.  Yep.  That’s right folks.  His very 1st and then his 2nd invites, in the same day.

I could write all night about the things that have been broken around the house in the past week or the fact that we are missing at least a dozen important items and we can’t locate her new nest.  I could cry about the fact that my allergies have kept me feeling bad for nearly a month and that I really need an extra twelve hours in each day or live-in help to pay the bills, do the laundry, buy the groceries, and keep up with all of our appointments and meetings.  I could focus on the fact that for the past two weeks I haven’t been able to get any of Sofija’s doctors or nurses or even her case manager to return my phone calls or emails.

Deutoronomy 33:25 “….and your strength will equal your days.”

I can’t focus on those things.  God has given me every ounce of strength necessary to get through the hard stuff.  He’s answered some pretty important prayers and then given me more than I even thought to ask for.  I don’t have to climb out of my seat and get off of this ride.  So for the time I get to pause here, I’m taking in the beautiful view.

I have this big thick pink parallel Bible that my dear husband bought me for my thirty-eighth birthday.  It places the NIV translation and The Message translation side-by-side.  My dear husband is not a fan of the The Message and I keep trying to explain to him that it’s written for people like me.  Hard-headed people who sometimes just need a good SLAP in the face on occasion.  It may not be the most literal translation of the Bible, but it certainly gets the point across loud and clear.

I opened up my big pink Bible today in search of an appropriate verse to emphasize something and landed in Ephesians.  After reading through chapter 5 several times, I realized that it pretty much wrapped up my 8-step plan.  I may still go back and expand on the points as God teaches me how imperfect I am.  But for now, I’m gonna let The Message speak for me.  For those of you following the plan, enjoy living out steps 4-8.  (and remember that I’ll be struggling through them right along with you).

Ephesians 5: 1-20 (The Message)

^1-2Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents (I’m quite certain that He’s a better role model than me). Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. LOVE LIKE THAT!

^3-4Don’t allow love to turn into lust, setting off a downhill slide into sexual promiscuity, filthy practices, or bullying greed. Though some tongues just love the taste of gossip, those who follow Jesus have better uses for language than that. Don’t talk dirty or silly. That kind of talk doesn’t fit our style. Thanksgiving is our dialect. – (1 Thessalonians 5:18 “give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”)

⁵You can be sure that using people or religion or things just for what you can get out of them—the usual variations on idolatry—will get you nowhere, and certainly nowhere near the kingdom of Christ, the kingdom of God. – mmm-hmph!

^6-7Don’t let yourselves get taken in by religious smooth talk. God gets furious with people who are full of religious sales talk but want nothing to do with him. Don’t even hang around people like that. –

^8-10You groped your way through that murk once, but no longer. You’re out in the open now. The bright light of Christ makes your way plain. So no more stumbling around. Get on with it! The good, the right, the true—these are the actions appropriate for daylight hours. Figure out what will please Christ, and then do it. – James 4:17 “To know the good you ought to do and to not do it, is a sin.”

^11-16Don’t waste your time on useless work, mere busywork, the barren pursuits of darkness. Expose these things for the sham they are. It’s a scandal when people waste their lives on things they must do in the darkness where no one will see. Rip the cover off those frauds and see how attractive they look in the light of Christ. – Acts 20:24 “The most important thing is that I complete my mission, the work that the Lord Jesus gave me- to tell people the Good News about God’s grace.”

Wake up from your sleep,
Climb out of your coffins;
Christ will show you the light!
So watch your step. Use your head. Make the most of every chance you get. These are desperate times!

¹⁷Don’t live carelessly, unthinkingly. Make sure you understand what the Master wants. – This one’s easy.  He just wants us to walk with Him and live a fruitful life. John 15:4 “Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you. In the same way that a branch can’t bear grapes by itself but only by being joined to the vine, you can’t bear fruit unless you are joined with me.”

^18-20Don’t drink too much wine. (Don’t know about you, but I’m thankful that it says, “too much” instead of “any”.) That cheapens your life. Drink the Spirit of God, huge draughts of him. Sing hymns instead of drinking songs! Sing songs from your heart to Christ. Sing praises over everything, any excuse for a song to God the Father in the name of our Master, Jesus Christ.

That’s all.