Last year, my oldest daughter, Annalee, did an exhibition project about the epidemic of homelessness in New York State. She and her group of classmates focused specifically on the bulldozing of Tent City here in Rochester, which displaced countless homeless people from the only safe haven they knew at the time.
Annalee (age 10 at the time) and her group came up with the idea of collecting blankets for the displaced homeless population. The blankets were then donated to an organization that was temporarily housing those whose tents were bulldozed by the city of Rochester. The whole thing was handled terribly and the treatment of the residents of Tent City was deplorable in my opinion. The small box of blankets was one fifth grader's way of showing compassion.
For Day 26, I am inspired by my daughter's efforts and have continued them with our own neighborhood blanket drive. I posted the information on our neighborhood Facebook page and will keep this obnoxious sign and a bin in my front yard for the next week.
All blankets and/or sleeping bags will be donated to local missions and shelters who provide services for the homeless men, women and children in our community. If you live in the Rochester area and would like to donate, send me a private message and if I determine that you are not a creepy pervert, I will give you my address to collect your donation.
Most of us have more than we need, just in general, but blankets and sleeping bags are some of those things that mean nothing to us when they are stored away in a linen closet - but could literally save someone's life in the harsh, record-breaking, farmer's-almanac-cursing, Rochester winter we will undoubtedly have for the zillionth year in a row.
I do not believe that you can give something that you do not have. If one does not feel loved, it's nearly impossible to give love. At least in a healthy way. And it is hard to give hope to another, if you yourself are hopeless. Spreading kindness to others through #AdamsActs would be impossible, if I had not first experienced the greatest kindness - the wild, unbridled love of my Jesus and the enduring, life-ending kindness done on my behalf: His death, in place of my own, that I might spend forever with him, the ultimate act of love and selflessness. The truest act of love was done, just for me.
And for you.
I share that because it is not possible for me to continue sharing about these #AdamsActs without explaining the reality that every single act of selflessness or kindness or grace or love is purely a response to having first been loved by Jesus. I am helpless to do good apart from Him and I am certainly not capable of being kind for 31 days straight. I am simply not that well-behaved.
In fact, if you Google the direct Hebrew-to-English translation for the word wretch, my Facebook page will actually come up in the search results. I could have been the poster child for sins and mistakes and selfish ickyness. Yet, I see my face on the front page of a (albeit a very small) newspaper as some sort of poster child for kindness, and so I feel I must explain.
The good you saw in my brother Adam, and any good you might be fooled into seeing in me, and the good that so many of you are spreading through your acts of kindness are a ripple effect from the first act of true love Adam and I ever knew. The love of a kind God shown through his kind son, because he longed for his beloved to remain his own for eternity. We get to be that beloved. I, the definition of a sinful wretch, get to partake in that offering of grace and love.
The result is that I have, and therefore am able to really give.
Some of my favorite kindnesses are those where I can return kindness that was shown to us. Because on top of the ultimate lovingkindness, I have been blessed beyond measure by a community of people who choose to shower our family with love and kindness way more than anyone should be. We are truly spoiled with love from others. Many of you included.
As my friend Lexi once put it "I don't know what it is, but PEOPLE LOVE YOU!" I wasn't offended by her shock and confusion in my lovability, although super rude, because I know what she meant, she meant that people love on us such an irrational amount that it is perplexing.
Today, for Day 25, we wanted to repay a kindness from a neighbor. She brought us cookies to welcome us to the neighborhood a couple weeks ago, even though her brother had just unexpectedly passed away. Kindness in the midst of grief is the hardest to muster, but probably the most healing. So, we wanted to thank her for exerting the effort to make homemade cookies for us during her hard time. In part because they were some of the best sugar cookies I've ever had and I want her to bring them to us on a regular basis, (see, total selfish wretch) but also because we wanted to offer help during a time of grief and sadness (see, also redeemed!)
We wrote a little card...
We wished for us to be "frens" and offered some raking...
Thanked her for those amazing cookies just to remind her that they are gone and may need refilling soon...
And we went to rake...
And then I couldn't breath because whatever chest cold I have is allergic to raking and other forms of hard work...
Day 24 was a bit of a fail seeing how I barely left my house and am a bit of a sick zombie at the moment. Tom and I both sent encouraging emails to different teachers, so that's something. I also took a little time to respond to some Facebook messages about #AdamsActs that I have neglected. A few were even from recipients of #AdamsActs! Thank you all, by the way, for the messages! They do mean so much to me, it just takes me longer than I would like to respond, and for that I apologize.
I tried to force Tom to guest blog as an act of kindness to me, but the man don't like his hand forced. So, instead we attempted a video blog. Here is the first (and only) take. I thought the world would want to see his big secret revealed.
Leaving at the end of a visit with Jay's birthparents is never easy. If it's bittersweet to reunite, then it's just plain bitter to separate again. I don't want to make it sound like there is weeping and gnashing of teeth, because there's not. But, there is a heaviness that settles in deep. There is a daunting weight and heft to open adoption. It comes with a constant awareness that there is so much to our story - both beautiful and tragic - and we sometimes feel the tragic more, when leaving, than we do the beauty. Yet, every time I struggle through the emotional layers of open adoption I remind myself that they chose life.
So. I choose love.
Coming home after a visit is not easy either. Harper, who is already facing challenges every day, is faced with the additional feat of processing the difference between his and Jay's adoptive experience. Feelings of anger and confusion and jealousy are a natural result of comparison (in general I think) but especially when every emotion he experiences tends to have a sense of rejection tethered to it. For a child already struggling with outbursts of aggression, these visits with Jay's birthparents have been a trigger for Harper. So I am going to be kind to myself and my family by laying low this weekend. As I expected I would at some point during this crazy month, I have run myself completely ragged and this cold I now have is getting progressively worse by the minute.
For Day 22 I placed little notes around Sweet Melissa's apartment. She lets Jay and I stay with her whenever we need, she spoils me rotten, she verbally abuses me in the best possible way. (See "awesome, but useless" in previous post.) It goes without saying that she deserves a few hidden notes of encouragement and/or silliness. Some notes are awesome, and some are useless.
Just like me.
For Day 23, I put little thank you notes on candy bars to give to some of the F.U.P. (Frequently Underappreciated People) in my life. This included some lunch monitors, the front desk secretary at the school, our mail carrier, the bus driver, and the school custodian.
All these people work very hard, and do it with a smile on their face! Seriously, these people are wonderful. And I am at this school three times a day, every day. (Yes, I am aware that three times a day is excessive.)
Buuuut, I bring the kids to school every morning and pick them up every afternoon, and on the specialist's recommendation, I join Harper for lunch every single day at school. I get a lot more face time with the F.U.P. at Briarwood than most parents and if I were them, I would have stopped smiling at me weeks ago. But, they are nice, literally, every single day.
The front end person at any school or business has a huge job of setting the tone for one's experience with said operation. And the front end person at Briarwood is a wonderful secretary who buzzes me in the doors up to thrice a day with a joyful attitude. It was such a small gesture compared to how kindly she engages with the students, parents and staff, still she thanked me and said that my note of appreciation almost made her cry! That is a sign of some serious underappreciation!
We have just over a week left in October. That is plenty of time to plan some simple #AdamsActs for the F.U.P. in your life. I know that it's tiring on the homestretch. Some of us are sick, many of us are exhausted and countless are carrying a butt ton of heavy burdens. This is when we need to remember how powerful kindness can be, that compassion and expressed appreciation can uplift and encourage a weary soul, that we have been given the power to lift one another up, or put down, to bring life or death into this world. And we get to choose. We get to lift up. We get to choose life.
And love.
"Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you." Ephesians 4:32
For Day 21, I have to backtrack a tiny bit because I forgot about one #AdamsActs that was less a random act of kindness, and more an intentional "thank you/I'm sorry for my general uselessness" type of kindness.
I am staying with, the one and only, Melissa Waheibi. Sweet Melissa is host extraordinaire, a walking map, a born problem solver, and also maybe a spy. Basically, she is useful AND awesome.
So imagine her disappointment to discover that, while awesome, I do not share the aforementioned skill set. Long story short, her friend Geoff kindly drove us around Queens late at night to find a good, free parking spot for the week. He literally drove the car around for me. It took forever and it was late on Sunday night, freezing, and a total imposition. But he was gracious and willing to help.
Then I forgot my purse in the car. So the next day we had to trek all the way back to Queens so that my purse didn't get burgled. I had a minimum of four crumpled one dollar bills in there... So, it was pretty urgent.
But I couldn't remember where I was parked. And by couldn't remember, I mean that I didn't listen to any parking information Geoff gave me. It was like 8th Grade Earth Science all over again. I just couldn't listen to the instructions.
So, we can't find my car. Geoff has to save the day yet again. "Sweet" Melissa couldn't just ask for help, she had to insult me via text message. As pictured here:
Melissa is hilarious. Cruel. But hilarious.
Geoff didn't confirm nor deny our suspicion that "cleaning the bathroom" really meant he was mid-soak in a glorious bubble bath. So, we thought he and Lisa deserved a lovely bottle of vinegarette for their troubles.
Vinegarette is the new wine, in case you are not up on the times.
In addition to this small act of gratitude, Melissa helped put together these incredible #AdamsActs which I handed out to some homeless people tonight while with Jay and Pop (his birthfather.)
We handed out one of my all-time favorite books. It's hilarious and touching and poignant and irreverent and smart and all the things. The homeless have multiple challenges, but one that is frequently overlooked is having a significant number of idle hours during the day. Passing time, particularly when in a state of hopelessness or strife, can be daunting. I would imagine that reading an excellent, thought-provoking book about stumbling upon a messy, imperfect faith in the midst of challenging circumstances cannot be a bad way to pass that time.
Additionally, each book had one of these incredible resource cards inside the cover.
These cards are part of an initiative to help locate the more than 4,000 homeless people in Manhattan and help them find resources they may not know are available. As indicated on the card, essential services such as meals, medical care and shelter can be accessed through these resources, assisting them in finding an alternative to homelessness.
As I handed this book and card to one man in particular (who had a very large boil on his forehead), I felt a great sense of relief knowing that one little card provides access to information and resources that we take for granted.
I wrote yesterday about feeling overwhelmed by the issues surrounding poverty and homelessness. www.dontwalkby.org prompts people to not just walk by, but to do something in Manhattan. We all know, though, that the homeless are not confined to Manhattan and in every city there is an underprivileged community and a homeless population. As a follower of Christ I have a biblical obligation to care for the poor, but regardless of your beliefs, all of us can and should concern ourselves with the plight of our fellow citizens.
So, for Day 21, I challenge each of you to do what you can in your own community. Give someone a book to pass time, help people find access to resources, volunteer at a shelter, make a donation, bring people vinegarette for pete's sake... Just don't walk by.
Jay and I are in Manhattan staying with my friend Melissa for the next few days. We are here to visit Jay's birthparents, so this will be the big city/open adoption edition of #AdamsActs. Spoiler alert: big city Jay doesn't sleep great and he rolls on the sidewalk when his suburban legs simply can't make it another block. It's very unsanitary. (Pardon the blurry image, but the kid can really roll.)
For Day 19, Jay and I brought some fruit to a homeless gentleman who suffers from a deformity of the foot. When we walked over, and I had Jay say "Hello, sir!" and hand him an apple, the man seemed taken aback.
He thanked us and remarked that he couldn't remember the last time somebody addressed him as "sir." After we walked away for a bit and turned back, the man was still smiling and waving to Jay.
So, Day 19: Seeing a man who feels invisible. Addressing him respectfully. Giving him fresh produce - which can hard to find in an "urban food dessert". Hopefully, restoring a bit of dignity.
I am always overwhelmed by huge issues of social justice - poverty, child slavery, human trafficking, sex trafficking, systemic racism, deplorable work conditions in developing countries... Issues like these seem so insurmountable. I know it's easier to pretend that these problems don't exist. I know it's overwhelming to acknowledge their existence. I know that we can't "fix" poverty through one act of kindness.
I also know that my God sees us and knows us intimately. He does not change our hearts from a distance, but through regular, intimate connection. I think that He models that for our benefit, so we know how to change things around us.
To change our culture, we must regularly connect with people. We sometimes have to crouch down and place our hand on a disfigured foot. We have to see people. Really make eye contact.
And say Hello.
Sir.
My name is Jay, and I approve my mom's message.
Day 20. Jay reunited with the lovely Miss N. (his birthmom) this morning and our #AdamsActs for today was bringing her a gift. She loves to color (so do I by the way, it's seriously therapeutic) so we brought her this amazing adult coloring book.
Then we spent the day at the park with her and his birth sister. And while Jay is napping I am trying to quickly catch my breath before we meet up with birthdad in an hour. Navigating open adoption isn't easy, in fact it is one of more emotionally draining things I have experienced in my life.
I have this constant sense of responsibility to Jay... I have to take a lot of pictures because what if they close the adoption and these are the only moments we have with them. I have to remember everything they say so I can be mindful of their preferences and so I can answer Jay's questions when he's older. I need to keep Jay on a good schedule, not just accommodate everyone else. I don't want to push him to engage more than he in comfortable with.
But I also have this overwhelming sense of responsibility to his birth family... I have to divide our time evenly between everyone. I want to make these visits as easy and comfortable for them as possible. I want to be sensitive to how these visits might trigger a variety of emotions for them. I want to push Jay to engage so they feel connected with him. I feel obligated to "prove" that Jay is happy and doing well and that we are good parents, so I feel pressure for him to be well-behaved and not, I don't know, roll around on the sidewalks like a lunatic.
The visits are so bittersweet. To see the look on Miss N's face as she registers how big Jay has gotten since our last visit, to watch her rub his hair, to see her hug him goodbye while he reaches for me instead, to hear him call me "mama" in front of the one who gave him life... these are things that crack my heart wide open.
It is nothing heroic and I am not pretending that it is. But, to sign up for this, is a sort of kindness. To them, to Jay, to myself. It's hard, certainly, but it's also so, so very good.
Yes, you read that right. I spent Day 18 traveling to NYC because we are due for a visit with my youngest son)'s birthparents. My #AdamsActs consisted of giving tangerines to two homeless men holding "hungry/down and out" signs but that was when I was back in Rochester.
It's been a long day traveling, and I am pretty exhausted... so I thought I would repost a blog I wrote which seemed to help a lot of people understand what open adoption is and why we chose to participate in one.
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We have an open adoption.
A lot of people think we are crazy. (We also think we are crazy, but for totally different reasons.) Actually, maintaining a relationship with our son's birthparents is one of the least crazy things we have ever done. When the alternative is withholding a relationship with people that created him, it seems insane to do anything else. Trust me, I am not being judgemental, I know that there are a million nightmare scenarios where a relationship must be withheld for the child's safety and well-being. But that's not what I am talking about.
I am talking about two people who absolutely adore their child. I am talking about a beautiful, bright, amazing young woman who created a life from scratch, and then birthed absolute perfection. She not only gave him the gift of life, she gave him the gift of a family. And for some reason that blows my mind every single day, she chose us to be that family.
I do not think of choosing open-adoption as some heroic act of mercy like some people think it is. Mercy is when we don't get punished for something, even though we deserve it. I think that is how a lot of people look at it, like birthparents lose their right to be involved if they choose to place their child for adoption. If I gave birth to a child that I did not feel prepared to parent at the exact moment of their birth, I cannot imagine the pain of receiving a life sentence of separation from my child because of it. I honestly don't feel like we are doing anything remarkable by facilitating a relationship with Jay and his first mommy and daddy... rather, I think we have the privilege of being part of something remarkable.
We fell in love with our son's birthmama, Miss N., the moment we first spoke with her on the phone. She and I have been texting and calling and facetiming and sending pictures and videos... almost daily ever since. Yes it is a huge commitment. Yes it is time-consuming. Yes it can sometimes be messy and enmeshed (see why I have a low tolerance for that with neighbors!?) No, it is not easy or convenient to travel to New York City every few months to visit them. Still, it is nothing remarkable on our part. What she did was remarkable. She entrusted us with the life of her only son... and we are merely reciprocating the trust and respect she showed us, even though we did nothing to deserve it. That is called grace. To give a blessing that someone does not deserve.
Adoption is such a sweet picture of our belief system. We actually believe that we are adopted by God, because he essentially traded in His only son so that we (ie; heinous sinners) could be made His perfect sons and daughters. That is both grace and mercy. He showed us grace in pursuing us though we did nothing to deserve such love... and He showed us mercy by not separating His perfect self from us, even though I sin enough in my sleep to warrant permanent banishment from His perfect presence. I know how crazy this all sounds... which is why I admitted that texting my baby's birthmom is hardly the craziest thing I do. I actually believe this Jesus stuff, and I know that makes me wacky to a lot of people.
But, here's the cool part. Because I actually believe this stuff, I get to live with a peace and a reckless abandon that nothing else in this world can give. So, sharing my son with the only other people on this planet who adore him as much as we do, is not that hard in light of my own adoption through the grace and mercy and loving kindness of my God.
Photo cred: Me, but that was easy thanks to his DNA.
I know that I have been missing in action, but I assure you that this post shall prove that I have indeed been in constant action. I am giving myself Days 15 and 16 for wedding stuff (which you will see below was way more than two days work... so I am not really taking an out on this one I promise!) Here are some pictures of all the work that I was claiming to have done, of which I can finally provide evidence!
The total was somewhere around 55 pieces completed for the festivities. Including...
Hairpieces for 8 bridesmaids and 5 flower girls. Boutonnieres and bow ties for 7 groomsmen, 2 dads and 7 ring bearers. (Yes, you read that right... there were more children IN the wedding, than there were guests AT the wedding.) ;)
Snazzing up my dress, and the girls' dresses, as well as some alterations...
London the (bossy) fashionista requested a vintage hat/blusher veil!
Wrist corsages for 2 moms and a grandma.
Headpiece for the bride (which included a bit of vintage lace from her mom's veil)
And the piece that took the most time (over 60 hours to be precise!) was made from those same tiny bits of lace that edged along my mother-in-law's veil. I sewed together the lace trim into one large piece to create a new back to Carlie's dress. My sister-in-law, Shannon, and I spent countless hours working and re-working the piece to make it perfect. She is a very talented seamstress and was able to attach the lack back to the dress. We created lace cap-sleeves that connect the back to the front. It was basically Carlie's dream dress that we custom built by repurposing her mom's bridal veil. If you aren't impressed with us at this point, then I can't help you.
This is the lace, about 60 hours in, all sewn together from pieces of lace trim about the size of my thumb.
Then attached to the dress.
Carlie's first fitting! As you can see, she was ecstatic...
Apart from those things, I did Carlie's hair and makeup and hosted the pre-wedding photos at my house. (This may not be that big of a deal, but we only moved like 3 weeks ago, so it was no small feat to get the house host-ready!)
But is was all worth it for the big day!!
Congratulations Calum and Carlie Shaw!!
Day 17, I wrote thank you notes to Calum's family for coming all the way to New York from Scotland, and for hosting the rehearsal dinner. They were wonderful people, and we enjoyed them so much that this was literally the least we could do.
I also offered to babysit for two little girls whose brother was in the hospital... but their super aunt stepped in to save the day, so instead we got the joy of having them all over to our house for dinner and a lot of excessive screaming-while-playing.
Day 17 is always special to me because 17 is an ongoing theme... Adam only lived 17 years, and that happened to also be his jersey number, and mine and my siblings', etc. This post is mostly about having spent the past few months preparing for my husband's sister to get married. Tom and Carlie have almost the exact same age difference as Adam and I. As hectic as my life has been in preparation for Carlie's special day, I couldn't imagine not doing this for her. Of course, I adore her and she is also my little sister, but more than that, I know what it is like to lose a sibling, and I would give anything to have worked my fanny off for Adam's wedding. When every part of me knew that the rational thing would be to say "no," I cannot imagine looking back and regretting doing for Tom's little sister what I believe Adam would have done for me.
I hope you all don't feel abandoned during the past few days of insanity. I hope you know that I have felt lifted up and encouraged and inspired by all of the #AdamsActs that have spread (lilterally) around the world. I hope to part by inspiring you with a couple ridiculous videos of our family shenanigans.
And since poor Jay did all the work of rehearsing this dance with us, but lost his head at the reception and was banished to bedtime... I also want to feature a little taste of what he would have brought to the table. Enjoy the unnecessarily high falsetto.
Day 13 & 14 were, what I like to call, a cornucopia of kindness.
As my sister-in-law's wedding rapidly approaches, my free time (of which I have very little in general) has been seriously depleted. So, for the past two days I have been very intentional about complimenting as many people as possible.
I do not believe that one should ever think a compliment. A compliment should be spoken, out loud, and as frequently as possible, while still being sincere. But, I upped my compliment game during these past two days and the best example was when I rolled down my window and yelled "I love your hair" to a high school girl who I always see walking home at 3:00. She always has really gorgeous braids or something, and today she had a twist out that deserved a drive by shout out.
I'm pretty sure she reported my vehicle (and my behavior) to the police.
In addition to cat-calling young girls... I have given a couple free haircuts, styled a friend's hair for an event she had, helped decorate the barn for the reception, continued making stuff for the wedding - including the final dress fitting for the wedding gown that my other sister-in-law and I enhanced/re-worked.
I sent out some encouraging text messages to some friends I have been praying for, and I spent time chatting with a few different people when my to-do list wanted me to avoid people altogether.
And for my final kindness, I haven't panic-slapped anyone even though my life is insane right now and it would actually feel really cathartic. I will now go to Carlie's bachelorette party where I plan to spread the kindness via my vocal stylings.
My brother, Adam, had some really outstanding dance moves. His legs could move ridiculously fast for some reason, and I plan to emulate this ability tonight, during karaoke.
Okay, so last night I couldn't get this vidglog to upload, probably because the internet was attempting to reject my hairstyle (think Weird Al/side ponytail/bedhead/haggard woman who just lost a pillowfight), but I finally got it up and running. You're welcome.
This is for all you ATATT fans out there. All Tom, All the Time.
Sometimes, you meet people that you like. And then that's it. But sometimes, you meet people that you adore and they make you a cutting board and then five years later you find yourself somehow inside the most sacred places of their lives and you stop and realize what a privilege it is to be there. Today was one of those times and Pap and Meenkin are those people. (Okay, they are actually Pat and Megan, but Jay doesn't know that and his way is so much cuter.)
I won't tell Pap and Meenkin's whole story, because it is not mine to tell... but the important bits are that they are amazing parents to two unbelievably adorable baby girls, Morgan and Zoey, who came into the world at 27 weeks, weighing little more than 2 pounds a piece. These little ladies came onto the scene with plenty of challenges ahead, but even more spirit, and they continue to blow me away with their progress. (And their cuteness.) Pap and Meenkin have advocated for their baby girls, they have spent 5 weeks of long days in the NICU making sure their daughters have the best possible care. They are fighting for their girls, and their girls are fighting too. And somehow, I got the honor of laying eyes on these precious little wonders today. And then I fell in love.
They are already smarter and more attractive than all the other babies. And the love was obviously mutual, I could tell that they think I am wildly hilarious and was pretty much their favorite visitor, including future visitors. So I guess I'm just generally their favorite person. It was all very flattering.
For Day 11, I was spoiled to be able to spend a whole day with Megan, laughing a lot, but mostly crying on our nailpolish and desserts. But after that, we went to the NICU to deliver some special thank you's that my kids made for the nursing staff who work around the clock to help Morgan and Zoey get bigger and stronger every day.
This isn't just a NICU thing, Pat insists on always wearing that mask. JK he has a cold.
In honor of Morgan and Zoey, here are some #AdamsActs that you could consider doing!
-make donations to your local Ronald McDonald House
-thank/encourage NICU nurses
-donate restaurant gift cards to families with a child in the hospital
-donate blood
-get vaccinated against pertussis to protect all newborns
-bring groceries or a meal
-pray for Morgan and Zoey
We first met Pat and Megan through their own act of kindness toward us. They reached out to us, and they supported our adoption and our family, and their act of kindness is how our friendship first began. Tom refers to this as the "butterfly effect of kindness" (but he says it using his movie trailer voice-over voice.) It is how one act of kindness toward another can ripple out to make significant, life-altering waves. Sometimes it takes a few years to see the waves roll in, and sometimes we never get to see the fruit of our acts at all, but whether we get to see the outcome or not, we truly believe that God is using the ripple of each and every act of kindness to create waves... and sometimes, if you're really lucky, the waves will mean friendship with really special people and their little angel babies.
"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."
Psalm 139;13-16
Happy birthday Meenkin... you are a wonderful mommy!
Ya know that really heavy baggage you don't really ever want people to know about? Yeah, that's the kind of stuff I mean.
When I went to bed last night with a thousand things racing through my head that needed to be done before the wedding this Friday, I prayed that I could keep these acts of kindness (and more importantly an attitude of kindness) in the forefront of my mind today. I really hate that feeling when you realize that you have gotten so wrapped up in what is urgent, that you have lost sight of what is important. So, I prayed for perspective and the ability to keep my eye on the goal: to glorify God with every thought, word and deed.
Then I woke up this morning.
I wish I could start this story with "it was just one of those really rough days when..." but when you are raising a child who comes from some sort of trauma, basically every day is "just one of those really rough days when..." I don't care what the "hard place" is that a child comes from, whether it be foster care, an alcohol saturated uterus, or just a really sensitive spirit struggling to cope in a harsh world, some kids are fighting through life more than others, and raising them is really, really hard.
Our beautiful, talented friends, Brandi and Danny Ebersole, have been an integral part in helping us tell our family's story by creating the video below. It was very hard for us to share at first, but we have come to the realization that shame and silence further isolate struggling families and nobody was going to benefit from our silence. You can see what I'm talking about here:
Rough stuff right? Well, when I went to bed last night, I prayed for God to be glorified through my personal agenda . When I woke up to His agenda it was not fun. My day was much less productive and much more painful than what I had planned for myself, and I spent a bit less time on the "urgent" things from my to-do list, and a little more time on the important things.
Harper needed me. He needed me to walk him through his emotions, to name them and define them. It takes a lot of time to do that with him. All day long. And I'll be honest, I am really weary.
And as frustrating as it was to see hours of my day just evaporate when I have such an extensive to-do list, I had to stop and recall my prayer the night before. I prayed that I would glorify the God who adopted us, who calls us His children, for no other reason than because he loves us and it pleases him to do so. How foolish to think that there was an act of kindness more important to complete than struggling through this hard place with my boy.
For Day 9, we gave someone a washing machine. Long story.
Day 10, I spent time today encouraging a couple moms who are in the trenches with their boys with various special needs. I had a long conversation with a newish friend, I wrote a letter to a friend of a friend, and sent some encouraging words to other moms that I know could use it. Again I find myself wanting to qualify this with "I know it wasn't much, but..." but, nothing. Some moms get calls from their child's teacher daily to discuss the problem de jour. Some moms get pushed down the stairs when their child is angry. Some moms spend all day and night changing feeding tubes. Some moms have been hospitalized with depression and/or exhaustion. Some moms have to call the police to restrain their child during a rage. Some moms feel really, really alone.
So, it's a great kindness indeed to let someone know that they are not alone. To be reminded that the God who sees, and knows, and cares, is walking ahead of us, and beside us, and around us is truly a comfort on this road with a traumatized child. I cannot imagine a better picture of the gospel, than adoption. The fact that God chose us and made us his own, and he loves us and forgives us even as we abuse his grace. He is the ultimate Father and he has taken every harsh word, every fist shaken at him, every hurt and betrayal, and he has loved us anyway. It is my hope that we will remember this redeeming love and that, we too, will love those who are hurting, and forgive those who betray, and lay our lives down for our enemies and those who harm us... perhaps even though they are sometimes our children.
During my childhood, my mother told me a minimum of 3 million times that "a mother's job is to embarrass her child." Let's just say she did her job very well. I have to admit, though, that it was not nearly as bad for me as it was for my two older, more sensible sisters, Kristin and BethAnn. It was as if the two of them were simply born more mature and socially aware than my mom, and therefore had an innate understanding of how ridiculous her shenanigans were.
She would dance when nobody wanted her to. She would wear inappropriate earrings. (Yes, earrings can be inappropriate. Just ask her tiny Santas dangling from her ears at Christmastime - wearing nothing but strategically placed Santa hats.) She loved The Artist Formerly Known as Prince while he was still The Artist Known as Prince, and would belt out all his songs at volumes so loud she damaged her own hearing. And while the other moms were sending homemade cookies to camp, she was mailing us actual garbage.
Now that I am a mother, I can really appreciate all of those quirky little things about my mother. Oh, wait... no I can't. Those things are all still terribly embarrassing, Sandi. However, I do catch myself being a lot more like her than I had ever intended. Sure, I haven't actually mailed garbage to the children, yet... but it sounds like something I might consider.
I am that mom who comes to school for "Colonial Days"only to discover that none of the other volunteers remembered to dress like this:
What you see there on the bottom right corner? Embarrassment.
I am that mom who dresses up for Halloween. And I mean... I dress up.
And I make the whole family participate.
I know it's hard to tell, but behind those hand-bent wire rim glasses, and crooked Santa beards... the children are mortified.
I am my mother. Hurricane Sandi the II.
Honestly, it's a miracle that any of them speak to me. But they do! They even seem to enjoy me most of the time! They ask me to stop dancing, they beg of me never to sing in public, and they roll their eyes when I arrive at their school in a wedding gown for some reason... but they also sort of secretly love it.
I haven't ruined them, which is a good thing. They still tolerate me, and they have fully embraced #AdamsActs even though some of the things we do are outside their comfort zone.
For Day #8, I want to share a few things that happened just today.
This came in the mail for my oldest daughter, Annalee:
The fitting part of being selected as a Kindness Crusader, is that she is being recognized for her kindness, but is also going to be perpetually embarrassed because part of this gig is wearing one of those yellow pinny/jersey things. Poor girl. At least I prepared her well for public humiliation.
This was sent to me by Marlie's teacher:
Harper came home from school and made his sisters' beds because I forced him to without being asked.
London (and keep in mind that she is five, and this is self-report data) made all the friends and told so many compliments. She is also full of ideas and suggestions for different #AdamsActs. They are usually very elaborate, but my personal favorite was what she called a "Feast of the Meats" where homeless children are welcome to come and watch Nana's TV while we prepare several meat options to enjoy.
And Jay actually wins Day 8 as he served the poor in the city of Rochester at a soup truck tonight with Grandma. And by "served the poor" I mean he pretended to drive the soup truck. It's a start though.
I am one proud mama. For such an embarrassing mother, these kids are pretty darn sharp! And kind. And someday, I think they will be glad for the generational curse of crazy that passed down through the generations.
Since people are googling #AdamsActs to find out why on earth strangers are putting money in their car, I think I should make it easy to get caught up. Here is where you can get started.
It's been a crazy week! People have donated books to children in lower-income schools, people have donated money to very important charities, people have paid for other's meals and tipped very generously. People have bought coffee, lots and lots of coffee for friends, teachers, colleagues, etc. There have been baked goods, and flowers, and chores done... and it has been awesome. Truly, I mean that in the very literal sense... awesome.
My parents lost their only son. All of the dreams they had for his future were instantly gone. Everything they had envisioned for him, all of the ways they imagined his personality and his gifts impacting this world, were no longer possible. I believe that losing a child has got to be the most acute agony a person can endure, and the only thing that might be worse than that is having that child be forgotten.
For so many of you to participate in #AdamsActs, you have bestowed on my family a gift so immeasurable that I really cannot properly thank you. Every act of kindness spread in memory of Adam is a reminder that their boy, their child, their only son... mattered. He still matters. He is remembered. His life had value. The way he lived his life made an impact. And while they no longer have the simple luxury of dreams for their son's future, that devastating reality is somewhat tempered by the fact that their son has not been forgotten.
That is a kindness to my family, and thank you isn't enough. But, it's also all I've got so, thank you.
So... Day 7.
After all the mushy stuff I just said, you are probably expecting something pretty sensational.
Wrong blog.
Tom wouldn't let me do anything good because he is a tyrant.
I am sorry to inform you that I blew it.
I blame the emotional hangover from spilling my guts last night.
Tom hates kindness. Can you believe this guy?
What blog? I have a blog?
Tom promised to guest post tonight, but then flew into a rage and refused to do it.
I was trying to feed the homeless but Tom pushed me in a pond.
Okay, okay... the jig is up. Today was sort of a bust. (Although everything about Tom is totally true. It's okay if you feel bad for me. I feel bad for me all the time.)
I did spend the day working very hard on a number of things for my sister-in-law's wedding which is coming up on the 16th. I am the maid of honor, so I have the typical MOH duties, but I am also making a bunch of stuff, soooo it wasn't like I was just lounging poolside all day. Unlike Tom.
But, fortunately, I was saved by the FedEx guy who delivered some fine sipping chocolate that I had ordered for our friends weeks ago. (If you don't know anything about fine sipping chocolate, that's probably a good thing. Don't ever try it because apparently it is a highly addictive substance that leads people to make terrible choices, like buying more fine sipping chocolate.) I have never tried it, because a sipping chocolate addiction feels like something that would be in my genetic makeup... but that didn't stop me from dealing a little sipping chocolate on the side. Just this one time. They can quit any time they want.
After my girls went to bed, I sneaked into their bedroom and put some encouraging notes and Bible verses around their room. They are both struggling with the adjustment to their new school, and making new friends is a challenge, especially for my quieter, more timid one. I took a few pictures of the notes before Tom ripped them all down in hopes that they would encourage you too.
