His understanding is beyond measure

Our church has begun the formative stages of an adoption and foster parent ministry. It's in its infancy and Monday night was the first public informational meeting.

After a few families shared their stories of adoption (including us) a woman I'd never seen before began to share her story. As she spoke of talking with a potential birth mother, the tears came quickly for her. My heart was swiftly carried back to the times my own heart ached over each of our children. If nothing else, after the meeting I wanted to hug her and tell her that she's not in this journey alone.

As we talked, we chatted about foster care. Finally, a familiar quip rang in my ears as she said that some people she knew had said this about fostering to adopt, "Oh, how could you ever give them back if you had to?"

How many times we've heard that (and still do) when we share about our experience and calling to foster, then adopt!

I've avoided our church's sanctuary as much as possible over the last four months. Every single time I go in there, my mind reforms a closed, white casket stretched in front of the pulpit, a spray of roses and sunflowers across the top of it and my dear friend laying inside. Nearly every time, the taste of bile rises in my throat as I enter.

What should be a place of refuge has become a place of loathing.

But as I sat there, in that same sanctuary, telling this stranger that this journey of adoption isn't meant to be taken alone I hear words come from my mouth and spill into the space in front of me.

"You know though, when people say that they could never foster to adopt, it bothers me. If God clearly called you to this season, if God chooses to make it painful, then it will hurt and you will certainly hit rock bottom. But God is the rock at the bottom. You may land face down, but you will land on Him."

I sat back, looked at my friend Emily and as tears quickly spilled onto my cheeks I said, "Wow. I needed to hear myself say that."

And that's basically where I feel myself right now. Face down on the rock. Unable to stand.

Sure, there are joyful things happening around me. Amanda had her sweet baby on Sunday and I was able to be in the delivery room to take pictures. Birth is miraculous and I am still in awe of her strength. I try to find the good in the fact that we aren't going now. We get more time with our friends and family. Christmas isn't quite so bittersweet this year with a departure looming on the horizon.

But Paige won't be home this Christmas. Just like she wasn't at our house the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, which was typical.

Then, I read Missy's post today and my heart ached so desperately to be gearing up to head to a land full of brown faces, brown eyes and new culture. I sat in front of my computer weeping over all that we've lost lately and I looked back for the post I'd written about the tears and trials that came with our first 5 children. This scripture that I'd once held so close was sitting before me, begging me to believe it all over again.

He heals the brokenhearted

and binds up their wounds.

He determines the number of the stars;

he gives to all of them their names.

Great is our Lord, and abundant in power;

his understanding is beyond measure.

Psalm 147:3-5

I'm brokenhearted. I'm wounded. I'm weak.

I'm forcing myself to believe that Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure. I must believe it. It must be true. His understanding must be beyond my own ability to measure. Beyond my own ability to understand. It must be so.

Lord, prove to me this truth. This truth that my heart already knows but my head is struggling to comprehend.

Please, prove it once more, like you've always done before.

More of Him

I pushed send and sat back, my stomach already turning in knots.

I closed the laptop and pushed it to the other side of the table telling myself that I would not obsess over how people reacted.

I won't do it.

But a few minutes later, the glow of the laptop illuminated my face as I looked at the list that continued to grow that told me who had received our last newsletter.

This is God's plan, this is God's plan, this is God's plan.

I keep reminding myself this over and over again because even today over chips and salsa with a very dear friend I couldn't keep my voice from shaking as I told her how desperately I long to be in Africa.

God knew when He called us to Africa what was foreboding on the calendar of 2012 for our family. He knew. And yet, He still called us, still let us proceed to this point. Because He knew somewhere in all of this mess is something that I need so desperately.

More of Him.

I need Him now more than ever before. Because y'all, at times, it feels like my whole life is crumbling right around me. Like it's slipping through the space between my fingers and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

You know when you're at the beach and your kids have built the sandcastle of all sandcastles. It's a good distance from the water but you know that tomorrow, it won't be there? You know how a few hours later you're warm and crispy, the kids have moved on to collecting seashells and then it happens.

THE wave comes. Through futile attempts you may try to dig and dig and dig to allow for a barrier of some sort from the water. A trench, anything, to divert the impending loss that the waves will bring. But it's pointless, really.

Slowly, all you've worked so hard to build slips away in one fail sweep of waves. And just like that...

it's gone.

Knowing this was all part of God's original plan and feeling contentment and peace in my heart with our current situation are two totally different things. The first one I'm okay with. The second is a daily struggle.

This summer we went on a road trip to see family and friends. For the second year in a row, Paige went with us. She'd met our friends Mandy and Micah the last time we went over and connected with Mandy right away. The three of us girls sat up into the wee hours of the morning talking and laughing while the men were being sensible and sleeping.

That night will forever be burned into my memory. Our conversation had quickly turned to relationships, dating and, for Mandy and I, the mistakes we'd made in both of those areas. Paige was confessing some of her own struggles as she strived toward purity.

Mandy and I sat on the couch and Paige sat cross-legged in the floor with a blanket over her lap, on their floral print rug, picking at the carpet lint around her.

She looked up at me, with tears in her eyes, her voice shaking.

"Jess, I know why you guys aren't in Kenya this summer, like you were suppose to be."

Tears spilled over her eyelids and ran down her cheeks.

"It's because of me. God knew I needed you here this summer."

I think about that night and it nearly takes my breath away. That was two weeks before she died. Little did she know that she was speaking words of prophecy.

But now, she's gone. Our plans and goals have crumbled. The thing we've been working toward for nearly two years (and planning and praying about for nearly 4 years) seems like a lofty, far-off dream and I'm struggling to see the glory of God in any of it.

I'm left surrounded by mess, heartache and grief. The kind that takes you by surprise and you wonder if you'll be able to hold it together through the rest of your conversation so you can slip into the safety of an empty room and cry.

And yet I know that in the midst of all of this the Lord is waiting, calling, desiring me to come and just lay it all before Him.

He's waiting.

I'm hesitant.

I'm desperate to feel His presence and yet I'm just not sure I'm ready to submit myself to the One who built me up and then allowed me to fall and our world to crumble.

The song "Steady My Heart" by Kari Jobe has spoken to me over and over and over again, especially the chorus.

Even when it hurts,
Even when it's hard,
Even when it all just falls apart.
I will run to you,
'Cause I know that you are
Lover of my soul
Healer of my scars
You steady my heart
You steady my heart

I know He will steady my heart if I will just allow myself to have more of Him and less of my own self pity and sorrow. If will allow Him to overshadow my grief, my disappointment, my fear of what our future might hold.

More of Him. That's exactly what I need to steady my heart.

Uncharted hairy territory

As a Mom to 7 kids, I've seen just about everything. Friends will talk about things going on with their kids and usually I can offer a suggestion because, you know, we've been there. Often, several times.

But last night was whole new territory for me as a Momma. And it's territory I'd like to never go into again.

I like to think I'm pretty cool, calm and collected even when blood and falls and bumps are concerned. Lucas busted his mouth open and ended up needing minor oral surgery the weekend before Abigail was born and while I panicked a little bit, I didn't just lose it.

But last night? I borderline lost it.

All was going well. Abigail wasn't really wanting much for dinner, which is odd, but she's also cutting two teeth so I figured that's what was wrong. I'd give her a bite, she'd spit it out and play with it. So, her clothes were a mess.

After dinner I stripped her down to her diaper and let her crawl around for a little while. After about 10 minutes Olivia pointed to Abigail's foot at almost the exact same time that I was looking down. I thought she'd cut it and it was bleeding.

I quickly scooped her up and took a closer look. It wasn't blood. Instead, a group of hair and lint had gotten wrapped around two of her toes and the circulation was being cut off. Her toes were so swollen, red and they'd developed blisters.

I quickly got some tweezers and got the hair off. But it was deep in her skin. Not to mention that once I noticed it and began messing with it she was screaming at the top of her lungs and the other 6 kids were gathered around, worried about their baby sister.

Apparently, "hair tourniquets" are not something that I'd ever heard of but they exist. Google them, but with caution my friends.

This is a pic of her foot about 10 minutes after I got the hair free. It's probably so blurry because I was shaking like a leaf.

My friend Lindy who used to be an ER nurse said that these weren't that uncommon and she'd seen a few in the ER. She checked it over just to be sure but said that we'd be fine just taking her to the Peds in the morning.

I took this picture about 45 minutes after I'd freed the hairs.

This morning we visited our peds and he said that he is going to treat it like a 2nd degree burn (because it's really blistered on bottom and still very swollen and red) and he gave her an antibiotic. Here's a pic I took at the doctor's office this morning.

The pediatrician said that he had read about them in residency and seen a lot of pictures but he'd never actually seen a case in person in his 11 years of pediatric medicine. He said that in residency they told him that if a baby was fussy and there wasn't a determinable cause to take off the baby's socks and check their feet.

Who'd have known?? In 8 years and 7 kids worth of parenting I've never even HEARD of this. So I wanted to post it for all you Mommas out there with little babes as well. Crazy!

I knew that our family was a constant opportunity for growth and education but I'll be happy to never experience this again.

------

Have YOU ever heard of this? What's the weirdest thing you've ever had happen to your kids?

Beaver Family November 2012 Update

As most of you know, in July we lost a close family friend, Paige. When we sent out our September newsletter, our hopes were to take a Short Term trip (3 - 12 months) with Africa Inland Mission to Southern Kenya. (If you missed our September Newsletter, you can read it by clicking here.)

After reviewing our situation and looking at the logistics and the assignments for a Short Term trip, AIM’s recommendation was not in our favor for us to proceed with a short term trip. One of the main reason we decided to go on the field with an experienced organization like AIM is because they have experience and wisdom in sending missionaries.

With that in mind, we have chosen to go on “Hold” with Africa Inland Mission and our plans. Basically, that means that the money we’ve raised thus far will be put aside for us until we are ready to resume support raising and head to the field as full time missionaries, like we had previously planned. We wish we knew now what that time frame would be, but we don’t.

Our children (as well as us grown ups) are still grieving the loss of Paige daily. Several times a week one or more of the children will come to us with a memory of Paige. While we welcome this grieving process, it is also very painful and often, these memories turn into tears, questions and sorrow.

Since soon after our wedding, we have been very convicted about being good stewards of the things God has entrusted to us, especially our finances. God showed us early in our marriage the importance of handling our finances in a way that is pleasing to Him and most effective for His kingdom. We feel that if we chose to press forward with our 4 year term right now we would not be making wise and effective choices with the monetary support raised to put us on the field.

That’s the long of it. The short of it is this:

Our family needs time to heal.

While this is certainly not the choice we wanted to make we know that it is necessary. We know that being good stewards of the hearts of our children is of the utmost importance right now. Second to that is being good stewards with the funding God would provide. We know that if we went onto the field now, we would spend a significant portion of our time healing, grieving and just trying to survive. Very little ministry would be done and we know that would not be using the resources of the Lord wisely.

Even still, this is a hard newsletter to write. We want to be people who honor their word, do what they say they will do and live up to our end of the deal. However, we acknowledged a long time ago that our primary ministry is our family. Right now, our attention and our ministry needs to be solely focused on healing.

Thank you for walking this journey with us. We pray that you have seen in us a desperate desire to obey the Lord faithfully, trust Him in all things and that He alone is worthy of any sacrifice we could make.

If you would like to discuss the contents of this newsletter with us further, we welcome that. You can contact us at beaverbunch (at) gmail (dot )com or by simply replying to this newsletter.

May the Lord bless you richly as you have richly blessed us,

Luke and Jessica Beaver

Elizabeth, Lucas, Ashlee, Aaron, Olivia, Ella and Abigail

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 ESV)