I love Max Lucado and I read this on Reece's Rainbow's blogspot today. I felt is was very fitting to post one mine as well. Many of you know that I am adopted and we are about to complete our journey in the finalization of Addy. We are a truly blessed family.

God's Mission: Adoption
by Max Lucado

When we come to Christ, God not only forgives us, he also adopts us. Through a dramatic series of events, we go from condemned orphans with no hope to adopted children with no fear. Here is how it happens. You come before the judgment seat of God full of rebellion and mistakes. Because of his justice he cannot dismiss your sin, but because of his love he cannot dismiss you. So, in an act which stunned the heavens, he punished himself on the cross for your sins. God's justice and love are equally honored. And you, God's creation, are forgiven. But the story doesn't end with God's forgiveness.
For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out "Abba! Father!" The Spirit himself bears witness with our Spirit that we are children of God (Rom. 8:15--16 NASB).
But when the fullness of time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, in order that He might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption as sons (Gal. 4:4--5 NASB).
It would be enough if God just cleansed your name, but he does more. He gives you his name. It would be enough if God just set you free, but he does more. He takes you home. He takes you home to the Great House of God.
Adoptive parents understand this more than anyone. I certainly don't mean to offend any biological parents--I'm one myself. We biological parents know well the earnest longing to have a child. But in many cases our cribs were filled easily. We decided to have a child and a child came. In fact, sometimes the child came with no decision. I've heard of unplanned pregnancies, but I've never heard of an unplanned adoption.
That's why adoptive parents understand God's passion to adopt us. They know what it means to feel an empty space inside. They know what it means to hunt, to set out on a mission, and take responsibility for a child with a spotted past and a dubious future. If anybody understands God's ardor for his children, it's someone who has rescued an orphan from despair, for that is what God has done for us.
God has adopted you. God sought you, found you, signed the papers and took you home.
From The Great House of God
Copyright (W Publishing Group, 1997) Max Lucado

WE GOT A COURT DATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All of my blogging friends from RR, no not an international one!

Anyway, after waiting MONTHS and MONTHS we have a court date to finalize our adoption of Addy! Yes we have had her for 16 months and it's not final. But as of DECEMBER 16, 2008 it will be official!!!!!!!! YEAH!

A Truckers Story

My good friend, Shelley, sent this to me in an email today. I have been bawling my eyes out, but in a good way. There are still good people in this world that accept our children for who they are.

A Truckers Story

If this doesn't light your fire...your wood is wet!

I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie.


He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Downs Syndrome. I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade.


The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truck stop germ" the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks.


I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot.


After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table. Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses onto his cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag.


If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.


Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home. That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work.


He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Downs Syndrome often have heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months.


A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery, and doing fine.


Frannie, the head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news.


Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of this 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table.


Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look.


He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked.


"We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay."


"I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?"


Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed: "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK," she said. "But I don't know how he and his Mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is." Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables. Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do.


After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face.


"What's up?" I asked.


"I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off," she said. "This was folded and tucked under a coffee cup."


She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something For Stevie".


"Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told him about Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply: "truckers."


That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work.


His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have his mother bring him to work. I then met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back.


Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting.


"Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me!" I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room.


I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins. "First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. I tried to sound stern.


Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table.


Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his mother. "There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. "Happy Thanksgiving,".


Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well.


But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table.


Best worker I ever hired.


Plant a seed and watch it grow.


At this point, you can bury this inspirational message or forward it fulfilling the need!


If you shed a tear, hug yourself, because you are a compassionate person.

Thanksgiving Weekend

We have been so busy that this weekend seems like a blur! The kids and I were out of school last Wednesday but we ended up having to go into Springfield so I didn't get as much done around the house as I had planned but that's okay. On Thanksgiving we went to my brother's house in Nixa for a mexican thanksgiving feast. Avery even fixed his own hair! :)It was all so yummy! We ate and ate! We then played a game that for the life of me I can't remember the name of it but we had fun! Addy hung out with her grandmas and everyone else that doesn't get to see her very much! On Friday I fixed a traditional Thanksgiving meal and my mom joined us and brought Lamberts rolls and her awesome stuffing and my favorite broccoli cheese casserole! We ate and ate again. We are still eating these leftovers! I started putting up Christmas decorations and didn't do a lick of shopping. I can't stand the crowds. Sometimes it doesn't bother me, but I was just not up to it this weekend. I still have time right? Tonight we are going to the Marshfield Community Christmas Concert. Cooper will be singing with the Junior Jays. This is their first performance so we are really looking forward to it. We have even had some snow today!!! I love it! I hope everyone had a blessed Thanksgiving!!!
I took these pics of Addy before I left for church this morning. My friend Patte made this adorable Raggedy Ann outfit for Addy last year before we brought her home. Addy had gotten so sick last year that she lost too much weight to wear it but she is finally just about big enough! She is trying to cut her front teeth up top and is chewing constantly so having the built in bib to chew on has been a lifesaver today! it's hard to see, but Raggedy Ann is also on her jeans! Too cute thanks Patte Ann!!!

MRI results

I haven't blogged about this much, but many of you know that I have been dealing with a lot of pain in my left shoulder. I had cortisone shots in July and then started Physical Therapy in September with no improvements with both treatments. I had an MRI on Monday and I got the preliminary results today. I was told when they put me in the MRI tube that it would take about 25 minutes and I wouldn't need an IV for contrast since they weren't suspecting a mass. After 30 minutes they pulled me out and told me that they were looking over the Drs orders and they needed to go ahead and do contrast. So I got my IV and spent another hour in the tube. Yes an hour! Needless to say I was a little worried about what they may have found but I just thought there was no sense worrying over something that I don't know for sure. Anyway, results were called to me today. I have an abnormality in my bone marrow in my shoulder. I am going for an X-ray on Friday and my doctor has gone ahead and referred me to an orthopedic specialist. Please pray that this is not a major thing and that there will be something that can be done to fix this. Thank you!

Addy speaking on command, well on HER command!

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