One year later. . .

Well here goes.  This blog is going to be personal and that terrifies me.  I am pretty private with my personal life and that’s how I like it.  But God has been challenging me lately to open up about my first year of marriage-to be completely exposed.  This is terrifying because. . .it’s not pretty. . .my attitude has not been pretty. . .my responses have not been pretty.  But, I am trusting God that someone needs to hear this, that someone will relate to my struggles.

Our first year of marriage has not been how I pictured a first year of marriage should be.  I don’t really know what I had expected but definitely not this.  If you forced me to tell you my expectations it would probably just be it should have been a time for us to build a solid marriage, to have no other distractions but ourselves and to concentrate on growing closer to be able to face life's challenges together----future challenges.

But, it was not to be so.  After we got married we lived in the BCI guesthouse where we had no privacy.  Because we were living in the guesthouse people just expected us to be available 24/7.  I don’t only mean the visiting missionaries (that is to be expected) but  pretty much everyone else.  Because we were close people just felt like they could come over whenever suited them.  We were meant to live in the guesthouse until October but around July I couldn’t take it anymore.  I asked Mussie to start looking for a house for us.  Around the same time we decided to start the adoption process of Fiker and Rebirra.

We had originally decided to wait until we had been married for 6 months before we started the process but we started it after only 3 months.  There were different reasons for this but the main one is that we thought the adoption process would take awhile.  You know, 6-8 months or so.  Again, it was not to be so.  The adoption process took 3 weeks.  Yes, 3 weeks.  The day we went to the courthouse we were told we were going for a decision.  We just assumed it was a decision about whether or not a local and foreigner could adopt children together.  This had never been done in our region and the judges didn’t really know what to do with us.  So we were shocked and surprised that the “decision” we received that day was “congrats, here are your children.”  

I remember that we were just standing in the courthouse staring at each other.  I was convinced that there was some sort of “lost in translation” moment happening but it was true.  We were parents.  We then decided that just because they were legally ours didn’t mean we had to move them in with us right away.  They were living in a good place and we wanted to do what we thought was best for them-which was letting them get used to the idea.  But again, it was not to be so.  Even while we were standing in the courthouse the word got out and someone told Fiker that they had been adopted.  I was furious.  I wanted Mussie and I to be the ones to have this conversation with her.  As soon as she was told, she started packing her bags.  What were we supposed to do with that?  Tell a 7 year old “yes, we just adopted you but we don’t want you to come live with us now, you have to wait”?  So we rushed around in the next few days and moved into a new house.  We all moved in on the same day, starting the journey in our new house together.  

The first few weeks were okay.  I knew that God called us to adopt them and maybe it didn’t happen on our time schedule but that was irrelevant, they were living with us.  But the honeymoon period ended and the past 9 months has been rocky. . .so rocky that I didn’t think we were going to make it.

I know that newborns are an incredible amount of work but I have to believe that it would have been easier for me to deal with a newborn than 2 walking, talking (another language!!) children that have expectations of me other than feeding, changing diapers, and snuggling.  I was sinking and I didn’t know what to do.  I felt so incredibly alone.  I don’t really have a great support system here and I don’t have a close friend here, someone to depend on.  Obviously, I have Mussie and he has been so great during all of my meltdowns but sometimes you just need a “soul sister”.  Do you know what I mean?  I don’t have that here and I didn’t really know who to turn to.  The people I thought I could turn to, ended up failing me.

When we adopted them, Fiker was out on school break.  *Side note-we now see God’s wisdom in speeding up the adoption.  If we had done it on our time table it would have been during the middle of her school year.  It was better for her that she not have to deal with that while school was going on.  Anyways, after the first few weeks I was literally terrified for Mussie to leave me alone with her.  I didn’t know what to do with a 7 year old that doesn’t speak English!  Rebirra was easy.  Give him a tonka truck, food, and milk and he was set.  But this little girl actually wanted me to interact with her, for goodness sake!!!

I actually never wanted children so I was so completely unprepared for this new season that God had given me.  I didn’t know what to do with them.  And any small piece of information that I had in raising children required communication. . .I couldn’t even communicate with my children.  So the first few months turned into a lot of waiting until Mussie got home and unloading on him and making him deal with stuff.  I would yell at him about his “never” being home (which wasn’t true but isn’t it amazing how we blow things out of proportion when we are struggling?).  

Somewhere along the way I realized that I didn’t love Fiker.  I loved her in the way that you love all of God’s children but I didn’t love her as my own child.  I started having tremendous guilt about this.  I actually started doubting whether or not God really wanted me to adopt them.  Had I misunderstood Him?  I had been so certain that this was His will (I mean, I didn’t even want children so why would I make this up?) but it was too hard to be God’s will.  I started getting mad at God because He failed me.  I had always heard “If He calls you to it, He will bring you through it”.  That was a load of junk.  He wasn’t bringing me through it, He was letting me sink and sink.  Of course, this isn’t true either but this was my perception at the time.

I had planned a trip to the States before the adoption and I literally couldn’t wait to go.  Not just to visit my family and friends but to get away.  Away from all of the demands of this life that I never wanted.  I remember that when I was in the States people would say things like “I bet you miss those babies so much” and I would think to myself “no, I don’t”.  I missed Mussie so much that it actually hurt but I didn’t miss the kids.  I started having huge guilt about that.  As my return trip starting approaching I was terrified.  Terrified to return to the kids.  I really started questioning God’s sanity.  Why would he want me, of all people, to be these kids mother?  Hadn’t they been through enough already?  Their life was better in the foster home.  They should have stayed there.

I secretly hoped that while I was away things would be terrible for Mussie so he could see how much I was struggling with the kids but of course he adapted amazingly.  When I came back I felt like it was better for them when I was gone.  After all, I was the one that was having all of the issues so inevitably with my return-all of the chaos returned.  

I had a great idea that I would start reading parenting books to help me to figure out how to be a mother.  But this just discouraged me more because apparently most of the ways to be a great parent require communication.  Obviously, I can show love to my children in actions but to raise them to be viable adults that love God and have high moral standards you have to be able to communicate.  I can’t correct them or encourage them because I can’t communicate with them.  So, I quit the books because they just made me angry.

And of course, my return to Ethiopia couldn’t been easy.  The week I returned Mussie and I were called into Fiker’s school and we learned some pretty disturbing things about her.  I had always assumed Fiker to be a very well behaved child.  That is what I always saw when I interacted with her when she lived at the foster home.  I didn’t know she had another side.  She was having a lot of behavioral issues at school.  I assumed this was all to do with her adjustment to the adoption but I then found out that she has always been a child that has behavioral issues.  That was a secret that no one shared with me.  It seemed everyone else knew this about my child, except for me.  

Mussie and I came up with a plan on how to deal with this but this just made her act out at home.  Up until that point she had been pretty well behaved at home but we unleashed a wild child!!  It was a long, horrible road but we have pretty much taken care of it.  Of course, all child make mistakes at times, but she is on a much better road behaviorally.  This all came at a time that I was still trying to “force” myself to love her.  We would make progress and then she would mess up again and I wouldn’t love her again.  That is when I realized that my love for her was conditional.  If she behaved then I felt like I loved her but if she acted out I didn’t love her anymore.

God showed me that this is not love.  I am so glad that He opened my eyes because it has made me appreciate His love and mercy so much more.  What if God only loved me when I was good?  That is a scary thought.

I wish I could say that I have spent all of this time in serious prayer and Bible studying.  But, sadly, that is not the case.  Remember earlier I said I was angry with God?  Well, when I am angry with someone I don’t want to spend time with them.  For about 2 months I went through a time where I couldn’t pray or read the Bible properly.  When I say I couldn’t pray, I mean that I couldn’t pray words.  But sometimes I would just meditate on God and try to reconcile my feelings with Him.

Slowly, I started forcing myself to spend time with Him.  I know that the worst thing you can do when you are discouraged or angry is to push away from Him.  God and I have struggled (actually, I am the only one that struggled) but He has pulled me through.

Through all of this craziness Mussie and I still had ministry to deal with.  A pastor friend of ours in Canada and his wife warned us to not let ministry overtake our marriage.  This has happened at times and we have to remind ourselves that our first ministry is to each other and then to our children.

Through all of this Mussie has been amazing.  He has been thrust in the middle of this family drama and he has handled it so well.  Mussie is such a patient, caring man and I know if it wasn’t for him I would have given up and walked away a long time ago.  I can’t say that Mussie has understood all of my struggles, because he doesn’t understand them, but he loves me anyway.  When I told him I didn’t love Fiker and I regretted adopting them he promised me that we would make it through.  At the time, I wanted to punch him because all I wanted to hear was that he agreed and that it was okay I had these feelings.  He never said it was okay but he said we would get through.

By not having a support system, besides Mussie, it has helped me to rely more on God.  To rely totally on him to get me through every day, every minute.  I know that God has made us for companionship with other believers but I believe He has used this time of solitude to make me see that He is all that I need.

As our one year anniversary neared we talked about how rough this past year has been.  Lots of people have told us that the first years of marriage are the best and then it goes downhill after that.  I pray that isn’t true!  And why should it be?  Surely, God didn’t intended for marriage to be bliss for 2 years and hell for 50!  We are firmly believing that God has strengthened us during this time and has given us tools to fight for our future together.  I would rather have our struggles in the beginning than to have a perfect 10 years and then start struggling.

Lots of people have also told me that marriage is hard and mothering is easy.  That has not been our case.  Our marriage has been good and relatively easy.  Not for one second have I ever regretted marrying him.  Of course we still have challenges but nothing compared to what I have been dealing with in the mothering department!

I pray that this blog is an encouragement for someone that is struggling.  Not necessarily in the same way that I was, but in anyway.  There is too much for me to type here but God has called you to this season for a purpose.  Even if you made mistakes and are now living in the consequences of those mistakes God will use it for His glory.  When you feel as if you are sinking ask Him boldly for a lifesaver and hang on to it.  Don’t grab it and then let it slip through your fingers when you start sinking again.  Hold on tight and hold your head high!