A Surprise Under the Christmas Tree

Two weeks ago, I sat down and wrote this post, "I started this blog to share my love for Christ and the joy of His call in our lives. Little did I know the spiritual journey I was embarking on. Many dark, empty days were looming in the mere moments following the first letter I typed. The first few entries I wrote were full of excitement and praise, and my feelings dripped with overwhelming love for my Savior. But as the months went by and the trials became more painful and difficult to wade through, my words became fewer and my entries further and further apart, and the praise was harder to find on my lips. I'm a work in progress...never perfect, never close. Numerous words of anger, bitter tears, and screaming my rage at God, turned to defiance, rebellion, and utter silence to the God I once completely claimed as my victory. It's almost December 1st. Two year and a half years after our adoption journey began and still we wait. Our hope for our baby girl, Aselah, ended in May. Our expectation for 5 year old Kalekidan, was ripped away in August. We are the top of the waiting list. The most accessible age group. Special Needs accepted. Silence. God, where is this child You promised? The one we said we would make our own according to Your word in James? I am at a fork in the road. Our paperwork is expiring and all needs to be updated. Our finances are dwindling. My patience is growing thin. Do we continue on the path we felt laid out by God, but where we see doors constantly closing? Or stop and wait on Him?" That was 2 weeks ago. I never posted it. Nick and I were struggling with what direction we would go and we prayed hard that God would show up and show us the way. The following Sunday, Pastor Tim was speaking over the Sovereignty of God. How He is in control over the good and the bad. It was such a powerful message and helped me realize that it's not necessarily going to be easy but it needs to be all for His glory. We felt convicted to continue to move forward. It was more of chasing the paper trail, making trips to Chicago and Springfield for re-fingerprinting and certifying paperwork. Its time consuming, unexciting work, but has to be done to keep your file up to date. I called our adoption agency on Thursday afternoon to update her on our document status and heard the same phrase, "We don't have any children yet." I wasn't surprised. I would have been surprised to hear different. I told her that was fine, and we would continue to wait. Friday morning I went online to look at the waiting children for our agency. I look quite often and have never found a situation that fits our own. But this morning was different... The first child listed was a 6 year old girl. Just being curious, I clicked on her picture. This smiling little girl waving at the camera captured my heart in an instant. She was beautiful and you could just feel the joy in her smile. I immediately texted Nick and told him to look at her profile. We called the agency to get more information about this little girl called TA. We discovered that she is a 6 year old girl who was orphaned at the age of 1, due to the death of her mother. She fit every requirement we had for our adoption. I was in love. Nick was in love. This precious girl was our daughter. On Friday afternoon, Nick and I accepted the referral of our fourth child. We are so excited to announce the addition of Kellerstrass baby #4, Tarekua...more details to come!

Carried for A Thousand Miles...

"No one will be able to stand against you all the days of your life. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you." Joshua 1:4-6 Three years to the date, Nick and I announced to our family and friends our desire to answer the call to adopt a beautiful baby girl from Ethiopia. We were excited and ready to face the challenges and roller coaster that we heard adoption could bring knowing that at the end, we would have another child to call our own. Two months later we got the call that changed our view of life forever...my mom was sick with leukemia. For the next 3 months our nights and weekends were spent in the hospital watching my Beautiful mother wither from a strong, intelligent woman to skin and bones who couldn't even use her hands to feed herself. I would never in a million years wish for anyone to see the sights I saw in that cancer ward. I will forever be scarred by the memories of those last months. Sometimes it's a like a nightmare playing over and over in my mind. The last day. The last hours. The last moments. The last breath. No one should ever have to experience the pain of losing a loved one. It's an ocean of pain that drags you under and holds you there until you cannot breathe. You get a wave of relief where you can finally suck in enough air just to be dragged right back down again. And so it goes, over and over and over, until finally you're too weak to cry anymore. Shortly after my moms passing, Ethiopia started making changes to their adoption policies. In an attempt to protect the children from child trafficking and unethical adoptions they were processing fewer adoptions. Rumors began that the country was moving towards closing down adoptions all together. That in itself was a constant up and down of emotions. The wait time kept getting longer and longer... Emotionally drained. Physically exhausted and spiritually lost. My faith faltered and my hope faded. Doubt moved in. God had failed. He didn't show up. And He didn't care. If no one was truly looking out for my best interests then I would look out for myself. Life on your own is hopeless. There is no peace. No joy. No reason to live. In May, we decided to leave our adoption agency for another one that was smaller with shorter wait times. We were able to find a waiting child and there was a 4-6 month timeline to bring her home. Our goal was to get her home by Christmas this year, and we were so excited! Our sweet little girl's name is Kalekidan and she was completely abandoned and living in a government orphanage with little supervision. We instantly fell in love and dreamed about life with our little Kalli Sue. My summer consisted of updating all the previously completed paperwork that had expired. At the same time, God began doing a work in my life and restoration of my faith was returning. Over and over, I was hearing how God is good. And only good. His will may not be our will but it's not to hurt us, it's to protect us. I was realizing that through it all, God was walking with us. In the days and months when I felt God wasn't there and couldn't possibly care, I realized He was carrying me. When I cried out into darkness without a sense of response, he was whispering promises in my ears. He never left me, He held me in my pain. He carried me when I couldn't possibly move forward on my own. He never left my side. Today we got the devastating call...Kalekidan's paperwork could not be completed and the police could no longer move forward in their investigation. Kalekidan would not ever be adoptable by us or any other family for that matter. An abandoned child with no hope of ever having a family. I waited for the pity party to begin and so far my heart is filled with peace. My God is good and only good. I believe He has Kalekidans best interests in mind and that He loves her. I believe He will be her family and her home. I believe He will provide for our family when it is His time. we don't know what our next plan of attack will be. Honestly, we are uncertain which direction we will take, but we know God's will and desire is for us to abide in Him and take comfort in Him. That He is in control of our lives, and we are in no better place than His arms. And in this we will find refuge. "After all You are constant. After all You are only good. After all You are sovereign. Not for a moment did you forsake me. Not for a moment will You forsake me"

Epic Fail

One of the greatest blessings this world can offer is the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ. It's a lesson I've been relearning each year of my life and during each trial. This past year, my relationship with Christ and my belief in His character has also caused the greatest strife in my life.

Because when you accept Jesus, you also accept the spiritual battle that is being waged for your soul.

Satan is the Master Deceptor, and he wants nothing more than to take the joy and redemption from your walk with Christ. Satan wants to destroy this gift you've been given and turn you back to a child of darkness.

And he's been playing hard with me.

For a year now, he's been whispering the most evil lies into my ear, and in my doubt and sadness, I've believed him. It's an ugly truth and one that has kept me from sharing my thoughts, feelings, and journey with all of you. But by Grace, I'm seeing my failure.

I'm realizing some of the misconceptions I have about God based on my own human perceptions and "satanic convictions". My mom's two year battle with breast cancer, leukemia, and all the complications and near death experiences caused by this disasterous disease drew me closer to God like never before. The nurses and doctors were calling her their "Miracle Girl", but we all knew who performed the miracle. Her life and story was a testimony to so many people, it was hard not to stand up on a table and shout...

"THIS IS MY GOD!!!"

But the night that she died, it was a shock and huge slap in the face.

I remember being with her during her last few hours and my entire family crying out to God with eager anticipation for His next miracle. We knew He was using her story for His glory, and I was confident that He was going to step in and wow us all.

When my mom took her last breath, I was confused. I may have even looked around with questions on my face, I don't remember, but I clearly remember thinking, "He missed it. He came too late. He failed."

As so I've been wrestling with this mentality and doubt all year.

I'm a control freak and I've always struggled with trusting people with responsibility, relationships, and my feelings because I fear they will fail me. But I've always been taught that God will never fail us. The agony in losing that hope overtook me and I put up a wall between God and I.

If no one can be trusted to put my good first then I will trust the only one who is looking out for me and my desires...myself.

My other misconception of God has truly been a lifelong battle to overcome. I can honestly say, I'm still there yet. To me God is distant. He sits on a throne up in the sky moving people around like chess pieces. The little things in life are not a concern for Him...

BUT if we sin He is right there to knock our pieces over.

To me God is about discipline. I put Him in a box that only I can understand. I don't "get" unconditional love. I'm a "do-er", a hardworker. Everything I own, I work for. I take pride in my clean home, my well fed family, my servant heart. I worry that if my kids are acting out or a hair is out of place, then no one would want to associate with my out of control famiy, or that I am failing my husband.

I am Martha, and I earn your love and approval by my actions and talents.

At the same time, I'm completely insecure and need a lot of reassurance of one's love, so I work even harder to earn it. I know if I fail, then I've disappointed someone and somehow that truth is unbearable for me to live with.

But with God, relationships don't work this way. I can't earn my way to Him, I can't earn His approval.

I already have it.

He already loves me.

Unconditionally.

I just can't wrap my head around it. I've "done" nothing to deserve it, and if anything, I deserve the wrath and punishment I feel should be coming. I know I've disappointed Him with my life. So I see the bad things in my life as my punishment.

So here I am today at a fork in the road. Where will I choose to head this day forward?

Our pastor, Tim Harkness, has been in an amazing series and he spoke right to my heart the past few weeks. His message, along with some convicting worship, opened my eyes to some of these false convictions I've been allowing to capture my thoughts.

Will I allow my personal grief and misconceptions of Christ to make my heart cold or will I trust that He knows if a sparrow falls to the ground, and the number of hairs on my head, or more importantly that my mom's life coming to an end was a part of His greater plan and not a mistake.

Will I believe that He never fails and sees all. Will I learn to understand, as Pastor Tim said, "What I DO is not 'to be loved'. I AM LOVED!"

I still have a lot to learn and process, but I believe God will help me find my way back to trusting Him.

"Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." Luke 12:6,7

The Forgotten

Let's all be honest with ourselves...I'm not very good at this blog thing. I will never be one of those people who have sponsors that pay a person for their blog. So I will make no promises here today that I officially commit to my blog or that I will do a better job of keeping my "followers" (sounds like a cult when you say it that way) updated. Don't expect it.

There I said it. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

It's been nine months today since my mom passed away after her short but hard fought battle with leukemia. I woke up this morning feeling down. Feeling defeated, but God wanted to use this day for good. I can feel him all around me, moving my heart. I do my devotions at night, which I'm thinking I need to change, because the first two articles I read on Facebook were about the mission of foster care/adoption. Then my car ride dropping kids off at various schools was full of worship music talking about miracles, God's unmatchable capabilities and how HE is always there. It was just the pep talk I needed to realize that I'm the luckiest person I know to have the influence of my mom for 30 years.

My mom's purpose in life? To be the best mother/grandma in the world and to glorify God in her life. And what legacy has she left for me to follow? To be the best mother that I can be and to glorify God in my life.

So where does that put us? It's been awhile since we've left an update of our adoption journey and ALOT has changed. Ethiopia is at a stand still. For four months there was not ONE referral of any child to any family. A complete stalemate. We cried, we vented..and we waited.

Much to our surprise, we started feeling the stir towards foster care. We prayed about it and really felt directed to get our foster license. The wait time for our Ethiopian adoption was stretching towards another 2 year wait for our referral, and we really felt it was time to bring another child into our home. September 26th we started the 9 week training session towards getting our foster care license. We just finished our 6th week last night and will be officially licensed foster care parents on November 28th. We are so excited for what this potentially means for our family in the next few months!

So you may be wondering about what this means for Ethiopia. Well, within the last week 2 referrals of baby girls were given from our agency!!! These were such exciting emails to get. That means that we are currently #41 on the Ethiopian waiting list to receive a referral. It also means that if this trend continues, it will still be another year before we receive a referral, and then approximately another 4 months before we would bring her home. Our agency only asks that we wait a year between bringing new children into our home, which should not affect either any foster placements or our adoption.

Our hearts have just been rocked by the foster care system in the last 2 months. There are nearly 500,000 children in the United States waiting for a family to call their own. At no fault of their own, they are placed in foster care or group homes because their parents were unable to care for them due to drug/alcohol abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, mental illness, etc.

Most international adoption cases I've come upon are due to poverty, illness, or even death due to these situations. But in our wealthy, powerful nation we have children without parents due to situations that have caused them to see or experience trauma beyond what many of us can imagine. My heart breaks for these children whose innocence has been taken from them against their will. And my heart breaks for their parents who are so lost and alone that they will do anything to numb the pain. Most likely, the parents witnessed or experienced the same pain they are inflicting on their own children, but don't know how to break the cycle.

Nick and I are hoping to foster either a single child or a pair of siblings up to 3 years of age.

Do the math...

That technically means that within the next year, we could double the size of our little crew of kids. Does this scare me...yes, a little. But at the same time, I've never been more convinced that this is the mission that God has called and equipped Nick and I to do since the moment we asked Jesus to come into our lives. My prayer is that His heart for the "least of these" would become my heart. He is rocking our world and our view of what we want our legacy to be.

What do you want to be remembered for?

"...if you spend yourselves on behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame." Isaiah 58:10, 11

Batman and Roger...

I never thought this day would come. For 7 years now, my life has been solely dedicated to meeting the various needs of babies.

But things are changing...

The diapers are packed away and unneeded. The pacis have been tossed into the trash. There's no more midnight feedings or lifting a little one out of its crib to comfort. No more stroller rides, baby swings, high chairs, onesies, etc.

My baby is three today! Its such a momentous occasion and so bittersweet. I used to look at envy at the moms who could sit on the park bench as their children played, while I ran around corraling two toddlers with a baby on my hip. I dreamed for the day when backyard play meant I actually got to sit in the lawn chair with a good book that I had all set up waiting for me when I got a moments break.

Those times never came and I went to bed exhausted and praying for a second of peace for tomorrow.

But the time has finally come for me to sit...and sit...and sit and wait for my kids to ask me to join them. It's bittersweet because I do enjoy the quiet and the moments to catch up on good book, but I miss their need for me. I miss them asking me to push them, play with them, talk to them. They don't need me anymore, they have the neighbors and cousins and other playmates. Wrigley has moved on past diapers and pacis. He would rather jump on the trampoline with a friend than bounce with me.

But he still has his moments, usually when he's tired. Then he puts his arms up like a little baby to be held and holds my ears...



Wrigley's due date was September 11th but because all my other births were c-sections, he would be a repeat as well. My delivery date was set for September 4th and even though my mom personally begged the doctor to move it to September 3rd (her 50th birthday)he said he wouldn't operate on Thursdays...so the 4th it was.

Somewhere around the 26th I started getting really itchy. There was no rash but my hands and the palms of my feet were unbearably itchy. My doctor told me to take some Benadryl to relieve the itchiness in case it was an allergic reaction.

It didn't work and the next day the doctor decided to do some more research. That night Nick's best friend, Greg, offered to babysit the kids so we could go on one final date before the delivery of our third child. While at dinner, my ob called and informed me that my liver was leaking into my blood stream and that our best option was to deliver the baby sooner. We made plans for that Saturday, August 30th.

The morning I was to deliver was uneventful. Nick and I left around 6 am and went to a nearly deserted hospital because of the weekend. Everything went according to plan and by 8:30 I was in the operating room.

Based on my other deliveries, I knew that my baby would be out in 10 minutes and I would be in recovery within 30. However, I didn't know that my uterus had already ruptured and that my poor baby boys hair was visible when they opened me up. I should have known when my experienced doctor said, "What is that?" That something was not right.

It took 3 times longer than expected and at 9:32 a.m. my little Wrigley James Kellerstrass was born. After another hour and a half in the operating being sewn back up, I was in the recovery room waiting to be reunited with my new son.

During this time, Nick had rolled Wrigley out to meet his big brother and sister. They were anxiously waiting with their Grandmas and Grandpas to meet their new little man and learn his name. Someone asked Amra what she thought of her new baby brother and her response, "He's a mess!!!"

Fast forward three years and I think this still identifies my crazy baby. He is ALL boy and is as active as they come. He is all fun and loves to laugh. As the third, he's my most laid back kid with a great sense of humor. But I'll tell you one thing, he's the one that has me constantly scratching my head thinking where did that kid come from? He is another species all together...his father's species.

We love you so much Wrigley James and although you constantly keep me on my toes, you are a true blessing from God and I am the luckiest person ever to be able to call you my son. Happy 3rd Batman Birthday, my little Wriggsy Piggs!!!

3 months in five minutes...

or ten. I tend to be long winded. Since the end of May, we have made huge strides in our adoption. Every time we checked another box off our timeline list of things to do, I felt guilty that I didn't put it on the blog. But like I said yesterday, I didn't feel much like opening my soul to the world, so I just kept to myself. But now is the time to catch everyone up to where we currently stand.

On May 23rd, we had our fingerprint appointment with Homeland Security. These fingerprints are run through the FBI to make sure we are not big time criminals. Luckily, we passed...besides a few tickets, Nick and I are pretty upstanding citizens. The fingerprint appointment made for a nice weekend in Chicago where we took the kids to a Children's Museum, Chicago-style pizza at Giordanos and the highlight of the trip: swimming in the hotels hot tub (someone threw up in the pool so we were restricted to the hot tub...the kids didn't mind).

Two weeks after our fingerprints were taken, we received our I-171H, which is a VERY important document for an adoption and the LAST document we needed to complete our dossier!!! My friend Danae and I took a Friday afternoon to drive to Springfield to get all of our documents authenticated and to have a nice lunch.

Danae and I found a Thai restaurant that earned rave reviews and we decided to try it out. After driving to the ends of Springfield, we finally found the abandoned looking shack of a restaurant. In front of the restaurant was a run down minivan with the license plate POO VAN. We looked at each other in half horror and half humor and decided to book it out of there. We did another quick internet search and discovered they had moved the restaurant downtown. We ended up having lunch there and it was delicious, but I will always have POO VAN seared in my mind.

I'd heard rumors that almost everyone has to make two trips due to a document not be completed correctly...and this rang true for us, too. So, Monday afternoon I packed up the kids and made the return trip to Springfield to get our last document authenticated and shipped off our dossier to Children's Hope International, our adoption agency. It was an AMAZING feeling to have everything I was able to do completed.

For two weeks we waited for the documents to be shipped to the embassy in Washington D.C. During that time we had our fundraiser, Operation 127. We were able to take our new friend Kathy's house and in one day we repainted her living room, dining room, and kitchen, installed new countertops, painted and installed new hardware for her cabinets, painted the entire exterior of her home, and installed a permanent air conditioner for her. We were so blessed to be working alongside 30 volunteers of our family and best friends. It was a wonderful day for all, and helped raise $4200 towards our adoption. Talk about blown away!

On June 24th we got the news. I was so excited to open the e-mail...we were officially a waiting family!!! It is such a wonderful feeling! We were #44 on a list that includes those adopting boys, girls, and sibling groups. In reality, it meant we were further on the list, but how far we are not sure. They told us that the wait time was typically 12-15 months. We were hopeful for a much shorter time and that within a year we would be bringing our little girl home.

Many uneventful weeks went by and we were happy to wait without any responsibility on my shoulder of things I needed to do. Unfortunately, we noticed there were not any referrals being given in the meantime. We waited and waited but nothing. At the end of July, we received an upsetting email from our agency. Do to some issues in Ethiopia, the government was closing down 18-20 orphanages in Southern Ethiopia so that they could begin to focus more on humanitarian aid. The children were all moved into other orphanages, but referrals were being stopped for the moment. I felt defeated again.

Adoption is an emotional journey. There are so many moments of excitement, moments of waiting, and more moments of disappointment. I'd heard it all, but thought for sure our journey would be a smooth one...I guess I am not the exception :)

Currently we are still waiting and in two months we've moved one spot. #43. To me it seems so unreal and like it will never happen. I'm so used to getting pregnant, feeling instantly bonded to the life inside of me and knowing that in 38 precious weeks, I will hold my baby forever and ever. Adoption is so different. Nick says its like a period in a pregnancy where guys kind of disconnect from it all because they don't have the same bonding feeling. They kind of forget about the pregnancy it is not all consuming for them. I guess I'm just getting to experience how all my pregnancies felt to Nick. It's hard, especially for a control freak, however I'm learning all about God's perfect timing.

I'm learning that right now not having to stress about timelines and paperwork and just waiting without an end in sight is a great way for me to continue to focus on myself and heal. So at this point, my prayer is that we will bring our little girl home in the next year or so, but we will patiently wait and see.

Please be in prayer for the orphans in Ethiopia who really would love to be with a forever family and whose cases are being stalled due to the government shutdown. Also be in prayer for the people of Africa who are facing one of the worst drought and famine they have had in decades. These are our brothers and sisters around the world and they need our prayers and support!

If I say I'm sorry, will you take me back...

It's been almost a year since I first started this blog. A chance to take the down the walls surrounding our little family and share the journey to bringing our daughter home from Ethiopia. A way to share the ups and downs of our daily walk and to be honest about the emotional struggles of highs and lows that we were to experience. But also a way for friends and family to follow this process and to know how to pray for us each step of the way.

I never intended to drive our blog into the ground...

But I also never intended the Titanic size year that we would have and how many emotions (good, bad, UGLY) that we would go through. I never knew that we would experience the life altering year that battered us to rag dolls. I never expected that I would be so raw that the only thing that I really wanted to do was dig a hole and escape.

Avoidance became my coping mechanism. In general, I'm a selfish person. I like my "free time" in the afternoon while the kids take some quiet time for themselves. I like to have my nights at home staring at the tv with Nick at my side. It's not really romantic, but just being together is enough.

But even as a selfish person, I try my best to help others out. I enjoy being a hostess in my home to friends and family. I enjoy taking care of kids while their parents are able to run errands, enjoy a morning off, or just take a breather for a bit. I like being there for someone who just needs someone to talk to. But this summer was different.

This summer I dropped off the face of the earth. Not in a depressed, hopeless way, but as a way to allow myself time to grieve. I gave my kids all of my attention and did not seek to satisfy any one else's needs. It all seems so selfish, but it was so needed.

This summer was not pretty, not by any means. I struggle with emotions, especially sadness. I HATE to cry. It makes me feel sick, ugly, and then even worse than I did before because I feel sick and ugly. My sadness comes out in anger and avoidance towards people who I feel most vulnerable too.

Unfortunately, the people I care the most about receive the biggest brunt of my anger. My husband, my children, my family, and my closest friends. In July after yelling at Nick for probably the 100th time that day, he confronted me about it. To me, it's just venting and letting that deep hurt out, but to him its a constant stab and cut to him and all that he does for me.

That night laying in bed, I started thinking about all that I was feeling and realized that I was affecting my relationships and I could do something about it. I may have been in an abyss of pain and sadness, but I didn't have to drive the people I care most about away. In fact, I needed them close to me. In that moment, I decided that in order save what I hold most dear, I needed to let my mom go and move forward.

It's the thing that is the hardest to do. To say you are moving on, is to say that you accept this life without her and that it's ok. It's saying that you are forgetting the very memory of the person whose biggest request is that they not be forgotten. It almost feels like you are turning your back on the person you just wish could be with you all the time.

But it's not. It's a tribute. It's saying I'm going to keep living because she would want me to. She wouldn't want me feeling angry at the world on her behalf, she'd want me to take my kids in my arms and kiss them thousands of times and hug them so hard that there is no mistake that I love them. She'd want me to honor and respect my husband and to be the God-fearing wife and mother that she was to us. She'd want me to embrace my friends and not run from them. She'd want me to be an example of the woman that she raised me to be.

That was six months after her death and it was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I couldn't carry that longing pain anymore.

I'm not sorry for the selfish way I spent my summer. If anything, it healed a broken family from the unstable ground we had been walking for two years. Healing is beginning in myself, my husband, my children, our family. We will walk out of this stronger, better, and closer to Jesus.

I am sorry that I let so much time pass and so many major steps go by in our adoption without sharing them with all of you. I look forward to reopening our blog and sharing with all of you what we've been up to and where we are in the process. We are so grateful to each one of you for your prayers, support, and patience as we dealt with circumstances far out of our control. We relish the day that we get to bring home our little girl whose name will represent the woman I most wanted to be...my mom.

PS Here is a song I wanted to share with you all that has been in my heart this summer.