The Other Side of Goodbye

Couldn't quite figure out why I've felt so grumpy lately.  I mean, I have no reason at all for any emotion short of pure joy. Everything has been working in our favor, it seems, and life is just so darn good, all glory to God. Our family is happy and healthy. Our adoption process is moving right along. And the Lord's abundance has surely shown up for us in the way of financial provision for our adoption.

But something has been gnawing at my heart. 

I worked in the kitchen this weekend, tidying up senseless details around the house, examining every negative thought and feeling, and then, suddenly, it emerged from my subconsciousness.

He died. And on May 30th, he's going to die all over again. 

We relive it each year, yet somehow it seems to get buried into the depths of our hearts and minds as we keep busy, though we know the day and time is closing in on us again.

Early Sunday morning, we attended a Mass given by a young Priest from the Seminary.  This man--this Holy man and a visitor to our Parish that morning--fed me the precise homily that my heart needed to hear.

He spoke, as the Feast of Ascension and Pentecost approach us, about New Life as a result of Jesus bearing His burden on the cross and giving His life for ours.

He talked about the mystery of "the other side of goodbye."

He shared the mystery of how God takes those experiences--those goodbyes--and shapes us through them. We all have them, but goodbyes take on different form and meaning in each of our lives. For some, it might be a departure to a new season of life, or a major change. For others, it's the physical loss of a loved one. He proclaimed that what happens as a result of "the other side of goodbye" is New Life. The resurrection and the promises of God are too strong to have it any other way.

I suppose I don't have to tell you what my "goodbye" was all about. And as this Priest sermoned about how the relationships are still there, just different, I felt joy in my heart. As usual, tears came, and I couldn't help but marvel, in all humility, at how God's stretched me in four years time. Because I know exactly what's taken place on the other side of my goodbye...

--a memoir of Daniel written with all of my heart poured into it, designed to help those who grieve, to help those who are called to adopt, and created to share a testimony of God's grace during the unimaginable.

--a much stronger love, in my heart, for the orphan. Our desire to help the least of these has only deepened, and through those depths, we strive to to make a difference in our son's memory.

--Charlie. Charlie Murphy. Would we have this crazy boy to love if not for Daniel?

--Joseph. Joseph Holt. He seems like just a dream to us now. We can only imagine what blessings will be born from answering this call. We hope and pray that love can pave a road to happiness and peace on the other side of his goodbye from all that he's familiar with. 

--a deeper faith. Perhaps this should've been first on my list. I am so thankful for the grace the Lord's given me on the other side of goodbye. I am so eternally grateful that He's cradled me in His arms to get me through the painful days. My faith has strengthened in this process. I'm so blessed that's He's shown me such goodness on the other side of my goodbye.

And when I think about what's on the other side of Daniel's goodbye, it's ALL good. He's in the best place ever.  I cling to that.

So, what's your goodbye?

Maybe it's time take an inventory of the New Life on the other side...

The Seed

Do you remember how all this started, this new chapter of our lives?

I sure do.  It began at a Mass back in December of 2012. I posted about it.

It was the Feast of the Holy Family. Jimmy and I had attended Mass by ourselves, and we listened to a beautiful homily about God, our Father, and His eternal love for us. His earthly family is our example, and our adoption into His family is our gift.

At various times during that Mass, I found my mind wandering about extending our family. It was not a subject that had come up in our house before.  And, in that blog post, I said this, "Jimmy loves to chime in that he will happily adopt another child...when we win the lottery.  In fact, Madi just questioned Charlie the other day about whether he wanted another baby in the house.  I had to remind my daughter that Mommy and Daddy are just a little too old, and tired, for another baby.  But we're not necessarily too old for an older child...a waiting child sandwiched right between Madi and Charlie. Is God, perhaps, asking us to open our hearts to the idea of another child?"

Interesting to me now that Joseph is indeed sandwiched right between Madi and Charlie...God knew.

The Holy Spirit acted quickly. Just days later, I posted about a lovely woman, who I'd met on Facebook and how she contacted me out of the blue and came to our house to buy the book. During our not-so-chance meeting, she divulged her desire to help families adopt orphans, and I shared that I had it in my heart to go back. A seed of possibility and hope was planted that very day by that very woman.

We were united by our son, Daniel.

The seed grew, and sprouted. As I prayed for Jimmy's change of heart, the roots spread and took a stronghold last summer. By fall, the idea was completely rooted in our hearts. Since then, the flowers have begun to bud, and we are full swing into the process. I promised Jimmy that God would provide for this adoption financially; that I would take on this burden, and that he would see how God makes miracles. Many of you have graciously helped and supported us in this endeavor of love. 

On Good Friday, after forty days of walking with our Lord and Savior to his death, He showed us goodness in His darkest hours. We received notification of not one--but two--generous adoption grants that day. We were brought to tears by His works, which brought us almost halfway into our fundraising goal.

Sunday, as you know, was Mother's Day. We'd had a busy week and weekend with Madi's First Holy Communion, and the festivities surrounding it. I hadn't had a chance to gather the mail on Saturday until late, so we tucked the pile away for Sunday's fresh eyes.

The next day, we noticed there was an envelope included in the stack. I knew the address instantly; it was from our friend whom I posted about. And inside was a card that read:

"We feel so blessed and our family has been so enriched with the adoption of our daughters from China. So many people comment that our children are so lucky. I know that the two of you and certainly, we, understand that we are truly the ones blessed by being allowed to parent these children. In fact, there are times I don't feel worthy of this incredible gift. As I had offered to Lisa last year and mentioned over the past few months, we have been looking at ways to help families adopt. Our goal, ultimately, is to help these beautiful children in orphanages find loving and secure families. We are happy to help a wonderful family such as yours to bring Joseph home. Please use the enclosed check to help in this wonderful new chapter for your family." 

On Mother's Day--and also the four-year anniversary of our Daniel's open-heart surgery--she and her husband provided one-third of our financial needs to help unite us with our son, Joseph.

And it all comes together because of His Son, Jesus.  Sometimes I don't feel worthy of this incredible gift either.

Friends, we are humbled by every bit of your love, every prayer for our son, every cent of your financial support, every ounce of your energy on behalf of the orphaned. Every single act of your kindness glorifies God, and we are so grateful for all of it.

I pray that if the seed is planted in you, you will clearly see how nothing is impossible with God.

Matthew 17:20 "He answered, 'Because you have so little faith. In truth I tell you, 

if your faith is the size of a mustard seed you will say to this mountain, 

"Move from here to there," and it will move; nothing will be impossible for you."