Just another case of UNSOLVED MYSTERIES

Just Another Case of Unsolved Mysteries

   This blog is hard for me to write because frankly I am not proud of it. As parent’s we all have pet peeves and one of my biggest ones is not being able to walk down the hallways in my home. I just don’t understand how they get so messy. For example, where does all this shredded paper come from? There is always that one sock and hair bow that magically appears, and of course no one knows where it came from. Out of my entire baseball team, choir, cheerleading squad, and drama team no one will own up to anything that is in the hallway. I can feel my heart beating faster as I trip on a lego and find one of my kid’s underwear lying in the middle of the floor. Can someone please tell me how my important paper just happens to be in the hallway all crinkled up? 

Keeping a house clean with a massive amount of kids is no easy task. I have spent years trying to find that perfect solution. I feel as if I have tried everything and begged God for creative ideas. However, the weird thing is there are always things showing up, or what we like to call "Unsolved Mysteries." I hate even asking the kids who did it, because I am not interested in hearing them deny and point blame on someone else. Do the kids just throw whatever they don’t know what to do with in the hallway? I apparently need to install video cameras or those baby monitors that show video in all my rooms!

My second biggest pet peeve is my pillow. The other night in Haiti, I went to lay down and couldn't find it. I started to throw my hands up because all I want to do after a long hard day is rest and sleep with my pillow. My pillow constantly gets stolen, and on this particular evening I was at my breaking point. I don't demand much. I slept on a roof top in Haiti for almost three years so I don't need the comforts of this world. I can sleep in a rocking chair and rock babies all night, but the one thing my tired self desires is for a pillow. Some mom's need peace when they use the restroom, and I just need my pillow.

 My pillow somehow ministers to my aching, stressed out to the max body. I walked from bedroom to bedroom with my flashlight determined to find my pillow (this wasn't one of my finest mommy moments). I began to wake everyone up proclaiming that it is so hard to live with kids who break, destroy, and ruin everything, and all I want is my pillow. I began to announce that my kids can have anything they want, but do not take MY PILLOW!!!!! The Lord knew that I was losing it and thanks be to Him I eventually found it. Someone decided to use it to mop up water in a bathroom from a toilet that overflowed, and of course it was a mystery as to who did this. It is pretty sad that I have to hide my pillow, but oh the joys of motherhood.

Below is a list of all our “Current Mysteries.” If you know or have heard about any of the following whereabouts, please help this ever growing list of mysteries that are unsolved.

1. -  Where did all these candy wrappers come from?? I don't even buy candy from the store?
   
2. -  Why is there an apple on the tank of my toilet? Seriously, this one concerns me!
   
3. -  Why are there more toothbrushes on the bathroom counter than there are children in my house???? Are we brushing dolls teeth now?
   
4. -  How do all (and I mean ALL) the lights in the house get turned on??? Even the closet under the stairs??
   
5. -  What happened to all the 7, 8, and 9 multiplication flash cards? For some reason, we only have 0, 1, 2, and 3 flash cards.
   
6. -  Where did all my pens go?
   
7. -  Why do I even buy games? All the pieces mysteriously disappear!
   
8. -  Why are my belts and scarves being used as leashes for your dolls? Do we need to enter into therapy again?
   
9. -  Who keeps stealing my Sharpee markers?
   
10. -  Who stole my pillow this time?
    
11. -  Where is my hairbrush (and no I am not singing a version of veggie tales)?
    
12. -  Why is there a Puma sock that always reappears in our bathroom? I have never seen anyone wearing the match.
    

Please tell me I am not the only one with “Unsolved Mysteries” in their home??? I would love to hear your stories. Praying that God gives us all the grace we need today as we continue to live this crazy but wonderful life of parenting. 

Keeping Faith

 Keeping Faith

I am sitting on a rooftop in Haiti writing this now, and my heart hurts deeply this night.  I can't even begin to accurately express my heart wrenching day.  I can still smell the wood from the little small coffin that was built, and the sounds of the hammer beating the nails into the coffin still haunt me.  I can still smell the dirt as I watched our workers dig a deep hole.   I tried to hide my pain, but couldn't help the tears that seemed to flow so freely as I watched one of our babies being lowered into the ground.  I could barely stand as I watched them cover her tiny casket with dirt.  Thankfully there was a chair nearby, but once I sat down, I realized just how exhausted I really was.  

They planted a palm tree where baby Faith was buried, and even though this tree was meant to honor baby Faith, it just didn't seem right.  No mother should have to bury their child.  As I walked down the pathway to our mission home, it felt like a journey without end.  I still can't help but replay the images….bathing her lifeless body…getting her dressed in the prettiest dress I could find…searching for the softest blanket I could find…having to force her eyes closed, as my hands shook.  Wiping the blood that seemed to just be draining from her tiny body….trying to see through my tears as I put little frilly socks on her tiny feet.  Oh how my heart hurts. 

I broke down as I saw each one of my Haitian kids place their favorite toy and stuffed animal into her coffin, already filled with letters from my kids and beautiful pictures they had colored.  Today was a day of mourning.  Someone emailed me and told me I should throw a party and celebrate her life, but somehow throwing a party for a baby who only had the chance to live for a couple months didn't feel right.  There is a time for mourning and this is definitely that time.  

Baby Faith died at 1:05PM today… in the arms of her loving nurse and her favorite caregiver who happens to be a pastor’s wife.  She now rests safely in the arms of her daddy God.  I can see her smiling and waving her arms, and I am reassured that baby Faith is no longer in pain.  She suffered from Hydrocephalus and was scheduled for a lifesaving surgery in January, but unfortunately, it just wasn't soon enough.  She was one of our babies that we had placed in our nursery for the terminally ill.  For those of you who may not be aware, we have started a hospice nursery for Haitian babies in honor of my late mother.  We of course fight for their lives both medically and through prayer... but if for some reason they do die, they die with full bellies, cherished, and in the arms of family.  

We have a scripture on our wall in our office at the mission, and it reads: "We walk by Faith, not by Sight." - 2 Corinthians 5:7.  Even when things don't turn out the way we hope, we are reminded, encouraged, and commanded to always Keep the Faith, even through the darkest of nights.

I Killed the Tooth Fairy

So I am officially the worst mommy in the world. 
Maybe there is a badge I can wear!?

I killed the tooth fairy last night.  Yes, the tooth fairy is dead now, well at least in my home the tooth fairy is dead.   

I grew up in a house where We didn't believe in the tooth fairy.  When we lost a tooth it was like  "oh gross, throw it away please!"  Unfortunately, that lack of compassion for teeth that I experienced growing up passed down to me.  Honestly, I cringe through my crooked smile as my children come running to me with beaming toothless smiles, "mommy, mommy- look I just lost a tooth!"  They hold this bloody tooth in front of me, and I am silently responding with an ugh! Yes, I play the nice mommy role and respond with, "oh thats great woo hoo!"  Now you may be reading this thinking I'm just heartless. I have been parenting for 14 years now.  I am sure there was a time (maybe) I wasn't so heartless towards teeth. I just seriously think teeth are gross!  I can't be the only mommy out there that feels this way.  I know some people don't like feet, well feet don't bother me like teeth do!  I don't know if I am just traumatized from all the dentist appointments I have had to go through with all my children or exactly why I am this way. 

I remember one of the adoptive parents came to visit their child in Haiti- and their daughter lost a tooth.  I remember how sweet the father was and he was so excited that he felt like he got to experience this memory with her.  I watched him sweetly wrap up his daughters tooth while taking pictures from his phone trying to capture the beauty of the moment.  I was completely convicted by his amazing "daddy tooth fairy role!" If only I had "tooth compassion" like his!  

So it is official, the tooth fairy is no longer living in my home.  The tooth fairy didn't just retire, it died.  I can't keep up with being the tooth fairy.  I am a horrible tooth fairy.  My kids all came to me believing in the tooth fairy.  As a young adoptive mommy, I didn't want to crush their excitement, so I played this exhausting game for years and years.  Oh the stories I could tell!  The tooth fairy has caused more drama in my home and even some strife.  So I officially announced that the tooth fairy no longer lives.  I will count my children's teeth and Pre- PAY!

Top Tooth Fairy Drama of the Month:
Forgot to "visit" Annelysia last night! Oh the drama! Oh how she is feeling so very neglected by me. :(

Last week Camden decided to switch beds with his twin sister, so I visited the wrong kid. Once Madison woke up she announced "I owed her"  also for a time last year when I forgot! So Camden comes to me wanting to collect his tooth fairy money as well, since he is a twin to Madison! Ridiculous! My kids can't bill me for teeth they have lost!  

I just simply can't keep track!
I accidentally gave a child in our mission a ten dollar bill instead of a one dollar bill... I've never seen a child more excited to lose teeth.

Victoria decided to teach all the Haitian children about the tooth fairy! Grrrrrrr  I can't even begin to tell you how many teeth we lose every week.  Oh and they all want to save their teeth! If a tooth gets lost, oh the tears.  I found myself in the dirt two weeks ago looking for a "lost tooth."  We never did find that lost tooth. :(

Praying today that your "tooth fairy" adventures turn out better then mine!

Love, a very tired and officially retired- buried in the ground tooth fairy mommy,

Heather Elyse

Holding Grace

Holding Grace

At 7:11 our Grace went into the arms of Jesus.  There are just no words that can quite express my heart right now.  She died in my arms and surrounded by my children and several of our older Haitian children that are being adopted.  She died listening to worship music as we all poured our tears and prayers over her.   I will never forget the day I met Grace.  Her young mother was desperate and on her way to throw her into the ocean.  Her mother was just a child herself....only 15.  Grace suffered from Hydrocephalus.  I came outside and saw two missionaries and two Haitian directors  deny Grace saying they couldn't take her in.   I of course was horrified that they denied her, and Scooped her into my arms and began to visit with the mom.  The very people that denied her told me I was crazy for taking in a child that would die.  They explained that I would be responsible paying for the funeral, medical care, medicine etc.  They tried to warn me saying that this mission would look bad having a child die.  I of course didn't listen to them, and told them they should remember why they are in Haiti, and what being a Christian really means.   I went ahead and made the decision to take her in with the mothers agreement that she would go before the judge, sign our creche requirements a d papers, sign our integrity agreement, and provide a birth certificate.  The mother fulfilled her promise and was very grateful that we did everything we could to save her.  We have kept in touch with mom and have had the opportunity to minister to her on several occasions.  We had a mission team visiting us that day and they quickly began to clean her, feed her, and make her as comfortable as they could.  We took Grace to the hospital that day and we were told by the doctor that there was nothing they could do for her, and that she would die.  They provided us with a medical certificate stating she needed to go to the US due to Haiti not being able to help her.  As we were in the hospital a little girl died all alone in the middle of a hallway, while we were there waiting for the doctor to get us information.  One minute she was alive and we were loving on her, and within thirty minutes she died.  She had blood all over her.  She was filthy and was an orphan by abandonment.  She suffered from multiple things including Aids.  I couldn't help but touch her and whisper into her ears.... I so wanted to scoop her little body into my arms, clean her, wipe the blood,  and just simply hold her.  No child should have to die alone in a hospital bed without someone mourning and pouring love over them.  So I wept for her that day.  I mourned for that precious innocent child that died all alone, in the middle of a hallway, in a hospital bed.  We ended up taking home another little orphan baby that day who we were told by the doctor, would die.  He had heard we had just become a legal Creche in Haiti and had asked us to take her.  She was six months old and only four lbs. Diagnosed with HIV, congested heart failure just to name a few.  After the medical director signed papers for us to get her, she was released into our arms. We named her Hope.  As we were on our way back from the hospital with our baby Grace and now our baby Hope, I had just gotten the call that my mother didn't have very long to live, and that I needed to come home.  So when we arrived back to the mission, we booked a ticket back home.  That morning my mother went home to be with Jesus, after a long battle with cancer.  I told my staff that morning that we would open up a terminally ill  nursery for haitian children, and name it after my mom... And a week later that is exactly what we did.  We have a full-time nurse that runs it, and we just hired a doctor. We are basically like a Hospice here in Haiti.  Grace was our first child in our nursery that now can care for terminally ill Haitian babies.  Someone asked me the other day why I would take a child in that is suppose to die and my answer is this:  I would not just take a child in that is suppose to die, but I would adopt one.  I will die trying to help save them.  I of course believe in miracles and have experienced Gods healing Power.  So my Faith can move mountains.  We of course always believe for healing.   If the child is about to die, then at least that child will die having a family that completely adores them.  Grace died with a full belly, she loved her new crib,  new toys, her special pillow,  loved being touched, and completely cherished.  She loved it when we would sing over her, and one of her favorite nannies would dance with her.  Grace loved getting baths and loved her build a bear bunny that her family back in Oklahoma bought her.  She had a family in Oklahoma that completely adored her and considered Grace theirs.  This amazing family had found a surgeon that agreed to give free surgeries.  This family had told the US embassy that they would be her host home and handle all the costs.  Grace was scheduled to arrive in Oklahoma next week on a medical visa.  Holding Grace when she died made me realize that .... She was worth it.  She was worth all the work, research, time, money and blood, sweat and tears... LOTS OF TEARS... and I would do it all again.  We bathed her one last time this morning, put on the most beautiful little dress.  She loves to have her feet washed and massaged...and special lotion.  So this morning we did this one last time pouring our tears upon her as we literally washed her feet.  We all our completely heart broken, but we choose to fall on our knees and worship our sweet Jesus.  Dear Father God, just as we washed Grace's feet this morning we wash yours.  I dry them with my hair and I minister to your heart.  We just want to touch and feel your heart beating, catch your tears,  and take care of your precious orphans.  Wrap your healing arms around all those close to Grace right now.  We are desperate for more of you and we are nothing without you.  Thank you for your Grace! We need your Grace everyday.  I know you are holding Grace right now and I thank you for the opportunity here on earth to simply be YOU in the physical.  Her funeral is scheduled this Wednesday here in Haiti.

My Top 3 Church Confessions

My Top 3 Church Confessions

Yes, I love God.  Always have, always will.  It's my faith that has gotten me through this insane journey, otherwise known as my life. 

But I have a confession to make...I don't like church. Never have, probably never will.

Maybe it’s because I grew up as a pastor’s kid.  I was forced to sit in the front row, where I felt like all eyes were always upon me.  I hated living in this glass house that was created for me.   Church to me felt like a performance, not some Holy Experience.  Now for the record, I was never one of those wild pastors’ daughters.  The most I ever did was chew gum in church, well, that and take two communion cups of grape juice (but then, hasn’t everyone done that a time or twelve?). 

Maybe it’s because getting this many children ready every Sunday morning has been years of complete exhaustion.  

I am convinced my Pastor needs to have a special handicapped parking space just for me.  Because after getting that many kids ready and out the door, by the time I pull into the church parking lot, I am feeling pretty well disabled. Sometimes I think people need to just have a wheel chair ready for me, so after I get my kids dropped off and signed into their appropriate classes they can just wheel me in.  I sit down most of the time during worship, not out of irreverence, but out of pure exhaustion.  If you ever saw me crying in church, most likely it wasn't because I was touched by the Holy Spirit. ;)  

Thank God my parents taught me what it was to have a relationship with God, not just some Sunday morning experience.  I am forever grateful for them teaching me what a quiet time was, how to hear that still small voice, and encouraged me to search out scriptures that provide the daily guidance for our lives. Even though our family was and is known for its extreme dysfunction, I am at least grateful my parents taught us about the heart of God.  That overshadows all the rest. 

I have learned that church is not a religion, it's a building.  The Pastor is not God, nor should he ever be placed on some pedestal.  It's a man trying to lead by example, the best that he knows how, both on Sunday and throughout the week. He or she will make mistakes and when they do, the sun will still shine, Big Bird will still be yellow, and God is still on the throne. I mean that's what Forgiveness is for... right? 

I am convinced the church should not worry about its seating capacity, but its sending capacity.

Church is supposed to be a place where people feel safe to fellowship and unite in worship. My prayer is that churches everywhere become more outwardly focused instead of inwardly focused. 

365 million orphans in this world, while the church is building coffee shops.  May God awaken our hearts to revival not caffeine.

Here are my top 3 Utterly Ridiculous Church Confessions. 

1). I pop beano into my children's mouths like it is candy before church.  While the congregation is praying, I am normally praying one of my kids don't drop a smelly bomb in the middle of service, like they do most everywhere else.  I normally have my roll on perfume ready and my fragrance hand sanitizer ready just in case they decide to drop a bomb.  If one does get dropped, I just casually apply the hand sanitizer to my hands and pray it helps disguise the smell.   

2). I attend mega churches so I don't have to socialize.  Pathetic? Yes, I know.  I am well known for showing up late, leaving early, and sitting in the back nearest the exit.  I am not saying I am proud of this.  I know it’s ridiculous and utterly childish, but I just can't help it.  I have the personality where everyone asks me to do this and lead that, and I just struggle with the concept of just saying NO. I try and tell my children to not mention what their mother does for a living, for fear they will have me come speak in some women’s group, make a video, lead a small group, do some mission special, or head up some children's programs.  Is this selfish? Probably.  I just get exhausted because in this family, we can’t help but make a scene pretty much wherever we go, and people always want to know "OUR STORY."  Next thing I know it people want to know how to adopt, how I can afford having so many children, why I am still single, etc. 

3). I text in church.  Not proud of it, and I don't recommend it.  Ever since it was cool to open your Bible using the YouVersion BIBLE APP on your iPhone, I have found that it has also been so tempting to catch up on an email or a text message.  I have had text conversations with my pastor’s wife, and other friends who are pastors’ wives in the middle of church, so obviously I’m not the only one that is guilty in this area.  I normally don't text when my Pastor is speaking, but when there is a guest speaker… GUILTY! 

Well there you have it….my Top 3 Church Confessions.  Thank God his mercy is new every morning!

For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you. Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. - Romans 12:3-5 

Adoption Etiquette (My Personal Top 5)

Adoption Etiquette: (My Personal Top 5)

1). Biological vs Adopted

Do not refer to your child as the "adopted child."  Do not refer to your child as the "biological child." If your name is on the birth certificate or adoption decree, then just claim them as your children. Someone once had the audacity to ask me if these are my real children.  I didn't know how to respond so I just gently pinched my children real quick and said "Yep, these are my real children.”  When people in the public say ignorant things, just shake it off and make sure the heart of your child is honored over what strangers think. Unite your biological and adopted children and become one family.

2). Adoptive Mother vs Mother

Do not refer to yourself as the “adoptive mom” or the “adoptive dad”.  I had a precious friend that would always refer to herself as the adoptive mother when she would sign for things in school or fill out applications.  Being just Mom or Dad is perfectly acceptable and highly recommended. There is no need to place the adoption label on your name. 

3). Children vs Labels

If your child struggles with any kind of behavior issues, do not add that label to them.  For example, many people call their child “my RADS child”.  Try and separate the label from the child. I know it’s hard, but your child isn't the behavior. Your child may suffer from Reactive Attachment Disorder and may be diagnosed as RADS, however please try to refer to them as the healed, whole, redeemed, and precious child that they are. Separate them from the label.  If you know someone that struggles with a porn addiction, you wouldn't refer to the person as Porn Bill, right? Give your child the room they need to heal.

4). Public vs Private

One day your child will be an adult and they won't want to Google themselves to find that their parents talked openly about their behaviors, personal details about their adoption, etc.  Make sure to leave your child an appropriate legacy.  Don't be venting about your child using their names on your blogs and social media sites.  Respect their privacy.  If you are like me, and use your personal struggles to help others, make sure that you do not attach your child’s name to your stories. Also, don't post anything that your child wouldn't approve one day.  I have many stories about my kids that I will take to the grave with me. I have had many ask me to share all my specific adoption stories through blogs, but this is something I will not do out of simple respect for my children. I may make reference to them from time to time, but no one will ever know what child belongs to what reference or story. 

5). Announcing Your Adoption vs Surprise Adoption

I have always had a rule that I wouldn't post any pictures of my adopted child until after a year or two of the finalization of their adoption.  I am known for not announcing my adoptions until years later. I would encourage you to not post pictures of your child when you are in the adoption process. Many adoptions fail, and there is so many things that could go wrong in any adoption process.  I have so many friends who set up adoption fundraiser sites and blog all the time about their adoption journey, but I would encourage you to limit the pictures until the child is actually in your custody.  Adoption is already an emotional roller coaster; I would not recommend taking all your friends and family on the ride with you. It will only cause more questions, expectations, and drama. 

Dear Child, I miss you. Love, God

 Originally Written 4/21/2011 at 1:18pm in Montrouis, Haiti

t's a hot afternoon in Haiti.  

I am exhausted.

I am currently sleeping on this "rooftop" so I can hear all the children’s’ cries. I have been up for the past few nights making sure some sick babies made it through the night.  I am currently sleep training a bunch of Haitian children as well! 

My very first child we helped rescue is Eliana.   Baby Eliana is 7 months old now.  I have had her since birth.  

She is gently sleeping on me.  My heart is hurting for the precious Haitian people. 

I am confessing publicly that is has been a few weeks since I was able to really have a quiet time with the Lord.  I got so busy with schooling my kids, and with running the organization, that I haven't had the time needed with my sweet Jesus.  I even lost my Bible!  

I have been missing my Bible reading time!  I think I know what happened to it, but that's another story for another time.  Thank God my sweet friend Natasha came to my rescue and sent me another BIBLE!!! (Thank you!) 

As I gaze down at sweet baby Ellie, I can hear my darling kids in the background memorizing their spelling words.  It's so hot here, but sometimes a cool breeze comes through and it’s like stepping in a cool stream.  I can't help but tear up as Eliana gently sleeps peacefully in my arms.  (Maybe it’s because I need a nap and I am a bit over emotional!) Eliana looks so content in my arms, her belly is full and she obviously feels safe.  Her every need is met now.  She knows that when she cries I will hear her and come running to her rescue.  

 I hear the Lord whisper into my ears as I gaze upon her... 

I hear him say....

My arms are waiting to hold you just like you are holding Eliana.

My eyes gaze upon you like you do with her.  

I can’t help but weep for you.  

Oh how I miss you.  

The times we danced across your bedroom floor.  

The times you would sneak downstairs and sit at My feet and just listen.  

The times you would spread your blanket and worship.  

I miss the times you would crawl into My lap and just be still.

How could I forget the day you decided to let Me inside of your heart?

Do you remember the times we would talk all night?  

I miss those journals and letters you would write to Me.  

I miss the time when you reached out and grabbed the hem of My garment and wouldn’t let go.   

I will never forget the times you washed My feet with your tears and dried them with your hair.  

You touched My heart. 

Oh how I long for those times again.

I long for the day you will finally trust Me with everything.

I am the one that can meet your every need, heal, forgive, and restore.

One of my favorite stories is about a man who was so in love with this woman.  He couldn’t stop thinking about her.  He had a date with her at a small cafe outside of the city.  As he sat there drinking his coffee waiting for her to enter the cafe, he kept thinking about how much he loved her.  How he longs to be with her.  Time went by and she never showed.  The waitress tried to persuade this man to move on and find someone else.  But, this man was loyal and said that this woman was worth it all. This was the fourth night in a row that she stood him up.  The cafe was about to close and there sat this man still drinking his coffee waiting for her to come through those doors.  She never showed.  The man paid for his coffee and asked the waitress to hold the table for the next night.  The waitress begged the man to give up on this woman, claiming that there were plenty of other women that wouldn’t treat him this badly. But, the man gently shook his head and said...no she is worth it.  Just as the man left the cafe, the woman he was waiting for just got dropped off by friends.  She had decided to go and hang out with friends that evening.  She was tired from her fun evening and decided to go straight to bed. As she pulled the covers over herself and was about to turn out the light near her bed she saw a note that read:  TIME WITH GOD… 7:00PM…. She quietly thought, “Oh no, I missed it again…oh well, there is always tomorrow night.”   

God is that man.  He is so in love with us that He is waiting for us to dine with Him and commune with Him daily.  He loves us so much that He died for us, sacrificed it all so that we could be free.  We serve a God who can open blind eyes, free the captives and move mountains!

God is gently wooing us back to Him.  It’s time for us to go back to the day we first met Him.  We can get so caught up in our crazy busy lives that sometimes we even forget to acknowledge Him.  He is there when we wake up waiting for us to say good morning.  He wants to commune with us all day long.  As a mother of, well, a whole lot of kids(!),  things are busy...I mean really busy.   I will never forget the day I was in my Indiana home and we were all going through a really rough grieving time.  My heart was hurting and I honestly was too depressed to move.  I felt the Lord walk into my house and completely take over.  He filled in for me while I was hurting.  He held me and got me to a place where I could function again and be the mother and minister I am called to be. 

I heard God tell me years ago, that if I invited Him into my busy day of parenting He would do miracles.  My days with my kids always go smoother when I first allow God to go before me.  When I let Him walk right into my home, and my kids and I seem to always find more time to read and touch the heart of God.  Now of course, I still have rough days but I know that I can always get on my knees that night and ask God to intervene, and He always does.  Just like my sweet baby girl always trusts that I will hear her cries.  We need to trust that God hears our cries.  It’s time we crawl in the arms of Jesus and let Him hold us.  God is wooing us back to Him.  He is whispering into our ears.  Can you hear Him? 

I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry…..He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand….. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in him. – Psalm 40: 1-3

A Table for Nine

Some missionary friends of ours came and delivered a special envelope to us while we were in Haiti.  I was shocked too learn that my oldest daughter had submitted a short story that she had written called "A Table for Nine," to a writing contest. She won first place for her short story and when she read it to me....I seriously balled my eyes out.  She received a check for her reward and I laughed through my tears as she said, "Mom, I am using this money to take you to dinner so I can introduce you to your husband...a table for three please!"   So this blog is going to feature her unedited version of the short story..."A Table for Nine." 

This is a sneak peak of Chapter 1 from our book coming out called: Table For Nine

The Night I Met My Father

by Mackenzie Elyse and family

I will never forget the first day with my adoptive family. My mother told us she was taking us to a fancy restaurant for a “family night.” I remember walking into this classy restaurant and hearing her say, "A table for nine, please.” I was a bit confused, because I counted, and there were only seven adopted kids, plus one single momma. I had heard my new mom was a bit eccentric, so I just thought this was one of her moments. Shouldn't we have gotten a table for eight? I thought to myself. I counted one more time, and was simply confused.

As we all sat down, my mom saved a place for someone right next to her. I began looking around, wondering who in the world was meeting us for dinner. Who was joining us for our “family night?" At the time, I was too scared to even talk, so I just sat there curiously, wondering what was going on and expecting someone to join us for dinner. My mother ordered the food, smiling and carrying on as if nothing was wrong. She began to seriously get on my nerves, and then I couldn't take it anymore. I had to find out who she was saving the seat for. I will never forget the words that came out of her mouth. "Kids, I want to introduce you to your Father. I have invited Him to have dinner with us tonight, and would like to tell you all about Him."

I was shocked. I thought my new mother was single! I quickly glanced back at the door, expecting a man to walk in. I was stunned as my mother began to talk about a man who would never leave or forsake us. She talked about His heart and His character. She began to describe how He had saved her life, and continued telling us all about Him. She said she would like to introduce Him to us. I will never forget that moment. The tears just fell from my eyes. I had become so numb, and this was the first time I could feel again.

As she began to describe who He was, I felt as if I had already met Him. It was a familiar feeling. I can’t describe it, but there were many (and I mean many) nights when I lay bleeding and in pain, and yet felt His presence. I had wanted so much to just die, so that the pain would stop. When I say “pain,” I mean severe pain. My body was used as a cutting board. I not only felt physical pain, as my biological parents would do horrors to me, but I felt such deep heart pain. There were many nights when I felt as if someone was carrying me, keeping me warm, and whispering words of hope into my ear. I then realized, as my mother began to describe this person she had saved a seat for, this man she claimed to be my father, was the same person who had held me, wiped my tears, and mended my open wounds.

That night, in a restaurant in Tulsa, Oklahoma, I met a Man who has forever changed my life. He has truly healed me. He is my Father and my Doctor. With tears I accepted Jesus into my heart that night. I will never forget the evening when God came to dinner with us and I officially met Him. I will never forget the prayer and tears streaming down my newly adoptive mother's face as she introduced us to the Man who had once healed her as well. I will never forget the embrace I received from my mother – I didn’t want to

let her go. I didn't just feel her arms around me, but God's arms. When she prayed and cried over me, I promise you this, I saw my Father God in her eyes. I didn’t just get adopted by a new family – I got adopted by a Father who knows how many hairs are upon my head. To think that I was once the abused child whose story was plastered all over national television.


I will never forget the day my caseworker told my mom not to adopt me because I was too old, too much work, and too sick. I will never forget turning on the news and hearing the reporter say I had one of the most severe cases of sexual abuse, in which the child actually survived, that she had ever heard of. I remember listening to my teacher as she told my mom that I was considered mentally retarded because I couldn’t read or write at age eleven. I remember listening to my foster parents whisper about how “homely” looking I was, and how messed up my body and teeth were. I remember when my peers at school would tell me they weren’t allowed to play with me because they were afraid to catch a disease or that I would hurt them.

I write this to say that God still performs signs, wonders, and miracles. I am now a daughter of the King. I was once lost, but now I am found. I was ashes turned into beauty. I was once damaged and broken, and now am restored and whole. God is reaching His hands out to you today. He has seen your tears, He has cried with you. Let him heal and restore you.

I will never forget the day when my mom said the words, “A table for nine, please.”