On May 8, 2008, we went to our lawyer's office. We were greeted by the receptionist and told to take a seat in loud leather chairs in the reception area. We sat down and the chair squeaked at every move. I decided that I didn't care for leather furniture.

The lawyer emerged from his office. His face had a big grin on his face. He was much taller than me. I looked up and smiled back.

We followed him into a conference room. The seats were not leather. Praise God. We sat down. Chad was to my left. The lawyer was across from us and out came mounds of paperwork.

In the pages before us were the lives of our daughters. It was interesting to see their life reduced to paperwork. It was their total sum in the eyes of the government.

We chatted for a brief while, questioning him on one of the petitions. It was wrong and he beckoned the secretary to fix it.

She came back and the petitions for both Faith and Grace were laid before us. Chad took one and I took the other. I signed my name to one and then we switched. I signed my name again and as I looked at the signatures, I regretted not bringing our camera. It would have made a nice picture. Oh well, we will get a copy on the day of finalization.

After signing, we were asked some questions for the birth certificates that will be cleaned and sanitized to make it seem as if I gave birth to both Faith and Grace.

This is done to make everyone feel like things are okay because the adoption has fixed everything. This is not true though, no matter how much you try to make everything nice and neat–it won't change the reality of what is ahead. It won't always be easy. It won't always be happy. Adoption is a wonderful thing, but it comes from something broken. There are no easy fixes.

The new birth certificate will show that I lived in Michigan while the girls were born in 2 different locations in Nebraska. I find this to be sad, that they will lose their medical history. The fact that I didn't give birth to them does not make anything less valid in my opinion. I would prefer to leave the birth certificates alone, but the Nebraska Department of Vital Statistics does not care what I or other adoptees want, procedure and policy are much more important.

After it was all done, we stood up–shook hands and thanked the lawyer.

The petition will hit the courts by May 12, 2008, and a date for finalization should be recieved a few days after that.

We walked out into the morning and looked up at the sun as it shone.

The lead singer here for Radiohead addresses the song in context of the government. I would like to expand that to the leaders of our churches as well–for those who wield the authority. For pastors of all statuses (from the Synod Prez to the District Prez to the circuit pastor to the lowly parish pastor and teachers), remember to take care of your ego–mind your tongue, check your actions–are they motivated by love or by something less than holy?

While the government can declare war on another, costing countless physical lives–a pastor or those in spiritual leadership can affect the "Second death"…which as we all know, is the final death–eternal separation from God. Take care of injured souls. Be careful in your judgment–especially as you were not given the ability to read hearts the day hands were laid upon you in ordination.

I came through the spiritual abuse–at least I think I have. Many won't…they will just quietly slip away and you will go to your grave with that on your conscience. I hope that's okay for you.

Thank you Pastor W.

We will heal one day.

I would like a place I could call my own
Have a conversation on the telephone
Wake up every day that would be a start
I would not complain of my wounded heart

I fell in love with this song more than a year ago. My son Erik would sing it over and over…entranced by the beauty of the melody and lyrics. Years before Tears for Fears sang this song in a more upbeat manner….Gary Jules sings it as it should be sung and that is the video I've included below.

All around me are familiar faces
worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very very, mad world, mad world

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very very, mad world, mad world
Enlarging your world, mad world

I was trying to sound positive as if my life was full of joy right now.

It's not really though as stress is threatening to overwhelm us.

*But,* I have hope that the joy will come soon and in this I find some sort of pseudo-contentment…a hint of what is to come.

Everyone is safe.

Everyone is healthy.

And for now, that is enough.

The electric blue funeral canopy is blowing in the wind.

It is cold outside, this day in April….a day that should be warm, but isn't.

Somewhere, people are crying. I know that, the electric blue cloth waving freely in the cold Nebraska wind is proof enough.

I am drawn to the burial site.  I don't know why.

My mind recalls a day in November just about 12 years ago when I stood near an open hole in the ground, the soon-to-be home of my grandmother's empty body.  

I was only 19. She was only 62.

I tried hard to remember if there was a canopy of electric blue that day. I can't remember. I suppose it doesn't really matter.

I glance up the hill and see another canopy of blue being erected. I watch the groundskeeper struggle to get the canopy up, the wind laughing at him in his attempt. I notice that unlike the grave I'm at, the metal encasing for the coffin is silver, not bronze.

I wonder why one would choose bronze over silver…did it really matter? I suppose it doesn't.

My eyes water.

I haven't thought about it in a while. On the last day we had together, the sun was setting and in a way the symbolism of that is larger now in death than it was at the time. I came into the room. She knew I was pregnant and she knew she would never see her first great-grandchild. I remember looking in her eyes and starting to cry. Her brown eyes matched mine and were in return, filled with liquid.

I scanned the room. It was too painful to look at her directly. My eyes glossed over the television, the closet doors, the commode—stark white on wheels. I took it all in. The sight and smell of cancer and death hovering, filling the room with its presence.

She spent her days in the bed I used to sleep in. It was the bed where I learned so very much about life and now it was the bed that would be the final place her soul would find earthly solace before resting with God.

My eyes flirted back to her and her eyes met mine once again. Her once chubby body was now rail thin–her protruding bones hidden by her thick, cotton nightgown.

The last time I had seen her dressed was on my wedding day about 6 months prior. It was spring then. She wore a beautiful gray suit that shimmered just a bit. She looked very smart and elegant. Her skin was beautiful with just a hint of yellow hue…her eyes tired and sad and happy all at the same time. She worked so hard to be there for me that day, though I did not appreciate that fact until much later.  

I held my womb and we talked about the baby. I told her through my tears that I was so sad that she would never meet this little one. She stretched out her arms and beckoned me to her bed. I carefully sat on the bed and her arms embraced me. I hid my head in her lap, she stroked my hair—just as she did when I was a little child.

We murmured special memories and words of love that night. The sky dazzled us as the sun set–the hue of brilliant orange, red and yellow is still one I can see today if I close my eyes and simply remember.

I stayed until it was dark. I don't know how long. It was the last time I saw her alive–it was our goodbye.

A few days later, my husband and I went out to dinner. I knew in my heart that when I came home, there would be a message waiting. I was right. The blinking orange light of the answering machine greeted us upon our arrival home. The message was from my father telling me of her passing.

I cried.

My husband beckoned me to the bed and held me in very much the same way my grandmother had….stroking my hair.

I climb into my vehicle and leave the cemetery today–those electric blue canopies bid me farewell and I pray for those who will be mourning under the flapping cloth today.

I know how it hurts.

"there is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and recovered hope." George Elliot

"What a shitty thing to say, did you really mean it?" Elliot Smith

Clean lines, neat spaces–knowing what tomorrow will bring because we plod along in an ordinary life…..this will never describe us.

Sometimes I wish it would.

My sister lamented to me the other day over how we are always in turmoil or seemingly upset about something.

While I understand why she perceives us as in constant struggle, her assertion that we are constantly sad is so far from accurate, it's hard to address her statement fully.

For many, life is about just getting through it all. They don't want to think about the darkness that encroaches on the privileged life many of us lead here in the US. It is all very "me" focused.

For both Chad and I, that is not how we work. For us, we will always wonder about those who are dying in Darfur….the history of the Rwandan genocide…the human rights trouble in China…Tibet….the lack of midwifery and the money made by shutting midwifes out….the consequences of vaccines…fair trade…immigration..how to stop modern day slavery…the validity of the death penalty….how to reach the weakest among us…the issues in the visible church, can we have the Truth and love at the same time or are they exclusive?….and on and on.

For me in particular, my mind is constantly running….moving from topic to topic….feeling a need to "know"…to have an opinion….to do something, because in the doing maybe we aren't as hypocritical as we know deep down inside we are.

My husband is the same in that regard….though I'm the extrovert and he is the introvert.

I bleed my emotions everywhere. I hide nothing. In many ways this ability is a gift. Because of my emotionalism, I have the capacity for empathy….to care. It also has its downfalls though. I pay a huge price for it all. I overwhelm people sometimes. I'm an easy person to judge because I put myself out there. I'm an open book, naked many times and unable to cover myself. I don't pretend to know everything. I most clearly don't…thus the struggle.

If you cry, there is a good chance I will cry with you.

My husband on the other is equally passionate. We share the same thought processes, but many don't know that as he is the definition of poker face….unless you really know him well, then you will see the shift in his eyes–the microexpression that most will miss. Overall, this has both its strengths and weaknesses as well. He's emotional, but knows how to contain it. He struggles to communicate with people when he is stressed. If you hurt him, his hurt runs much deeper than it does for me.

If you cry, there is a good chance he will cry with you.

This is our commonality and the reason our marriage works so very well most of the time.

Right now, it's hard to find a place in which we will find solace or comfort. It's too complicated to talk about here and honestly, now is just not the right time.

Life isn't easy. It's a maze full of unexpected twists and turns…finding one's way isn't always the easiest thing in the world. There are many who will sit and wait for their life to end and never really engage the maze.

For them, that is enough and I wouldn't dare judge it.

For Chad and I, that is not how we will live our lives though. For us, there will constant running, constant seeking…a continuous desire to discover more about the life God has given us. It is because of this, that many will judge us to be something we are not. We will continue to make those who choose to merely sit in the maze completely uncomfortable.

In the end, their judgment doesn’t really matter.

And I'm content in that knowledge.  

War is the greatest plague that can afflict humanity, it destroys religion, it destroys states, it destroys families. Any scourge is preferable to it.
Martin Luther

Peace is more important than all justice; and peace was not made for the sake of justice, but justice for the sake of peace.
Martin Luther

Peace if possible, truth at all costs.
Martin Luther

Everything that is done in the world is done by hope.
Martin Luther

You are not only responsible for what you say, but also for what you do not say.
Martin Luther

Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world.
Martin Luther

I more fear what is within me than what comes from without.
Martin Luther

Be a sinner and sin strongly, but more strongly have faith and rejoice in Christ.
Martin Luther