Beauty from Ashes

Hi all, Bettina here.

I actually started writing this post about 3 weeks ago, but I couldn't get my words out well enough to actually sound coherent, so I stopped. I stopped trying to process it all. I stopped trying to make sense of it all. I just stopped. 

Typically writing helps me decompress and find my voice, but this time around it was all I could do to get words out. My journals have been plastered with tears and prayers that all sound the same. Redundant, messy and desperate. So you can understand more of why I stopped trying to write to all of you.

You see friends, we have been in the trenches for the last 12 weeks. We have been huddled down, crying out to God, and trusting that His plan is really, truly perfect in every way. 

There have been ebbs and flows of the emotions. 

There have been laughs and tears in equal measure. 

There have been days where I felt I couldn't go on.

There have been days when I couldn't imagine my life any other way.

While it always seems repetitive to say out loud, we have been in the trenches with our sweet Jordan. Not only have we be trying to sort out all the garbage from his past, but in the meantime, he was diagnosed with PANS which stands for Pediatric Acute-onset Neuropsychiatric Syndrome. PANS is when an infectious trigger creates a misdirected immune response which results in inflammation on a child’s brain. In turn, the child quickly begins to exhibit life changing symptoms such as OCD, severe restrictive eating, anxiety, personality changes, irritability, aggression and/or severely oppositional behaviors, developmental regression, deterioration in school performance, sensory or motor abnormalities and/or somatic signs and symptoms, including sleep disturbances, enuresis or urinary frequency. 

Our sweet Jordan has been exhibiting all of these symptoms consistently and with only mild reprieve. 

To put it in perspective, his blood levels outlining this syndrome were 13x what they should be. While a normal reading for his blood markers should be less than 100, Jordan's read 1,319. Gulp. 

While I knew there was something going on, and had taken him to the doctor 3 weeks prior to this diagnosis, all of his initial testing (not blood work) came back negative. So when I took him back to his specialist and she did the test, I felt relieved that there was a reason for all the crazy, but so sad that he's been sick without us knowing. 

You see, Jordan doesn't really manifest physical symptoms when he's sick. The only reason I typically know he's sick and take him to the doctor is when he has severe changes in sensory behaviors and when he stops sleeping at night. There are no fevers, no pain complaints, no typical signs and symptoms. It is a mama's intuition and God's prompting that allows us to even know there is something happening inside him. 

So while some of his behaviors have been from a physical change on the inside, this syndrome has only enhanced his normal stress and anxiety that come from his past. 

I'm sure it's hard for most of you to understand, especially without knowing him as well as we do, but there are seasons of Jordan that just make life SO. INCREDIBLY. HARD. I love my sweet boy more than I could ever express. He has changed us and made us better in more ways than I could write, but oh the story God is writing in our lives through him. While the last couple weeks have been better, there are still days...like today...that come out of nowhere and remind me why it's so important to never give up.

Today wrecked me.

It was like I was transported back to the red dirt of Uganda. 

Back to the thick of our boys' trauma. 

Back to all the heartache and fears that we started with. 

Back to fighting with every ounce of my being for the heart of my son.

Trauma is ugly.

It's an invisible pain that takes root and manifests itself in ways I never thought possible. Just when you think you're out of the woods. Just when you think things are improving. Just when you think you could actually do this. BAM. It's like someone pulls the rug out from under your feet and you're left on the floor struggling to figure out what just happened.

Today was one of those days. 

The sun was shining. 

The birds were chirping. 

The temperature was warm with a nice breeze. 

It was a beautiful day. 

But there we were, inside our home. One raging. The other scared. And this mama going between yelling, sobbing and quiet discipline to try to find any semblance of our "normal".

Once I felt the overwhelming feeling of despair come over me - after 2 straight hours of relentless love and conviction - I gave in and asked Paul to come home. Scratch that. I called Paul screaming and sobbing and told him he had to come home.

Because while I think I'm strong, I'm really not. You can only go so long in mama mode before you realize that your human mode will always be stronger. And you can only go in human mode for so long before you realize that without God you're useless.

As the venom of my son's trauma was spewing from his body and mouth, it was all I could do to stay present. 

It was all I could do to not retreat. 

It was all I could do to not give in.

It was all I could do to not give up. 

Calling Paul, made me feel so weak. I felt like I was waving my white flag and saying I can't do this. I felt like I was the most inadequate mama in the world. I felt lost.

Whenever this happens, I try to remember that this is not my sweet, kind, tender-hearted little boy. This is trauma rearing it's heinous head, and unfortunately, trauma knows just what to say and how to say it to make the cuts go deep.

In the moment, it's sometimes hard to distinguish the trauma from my son, but then when it subsides...when it passes...when the light in his eyes comes back on...it's one of the most beautiful sites in the world. 

It's the moment when my mama heart is completely broken for my child. 

It's the moment when I understand Jesus' heart for us as His children. 

It's the moment when I remember why we chose to pursue adoption in the first place.

But before that moment. 

Before the clarity. 

Before the redemption. 

I am numb. It's terrible to admit out loud, but it's the truth. This numbness is my ground zero, and it's in this place that I remember just how much I couldn't do this without Jesus.

It's these moments of inadequacy, that remind me that I am nothing without Jesus. That I have no control over this situation. None. Zero. Zilch. Jesus is the ONLY reason we can still do this day after day, and it's HIS love for our children that keeps me going.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

"But he said to me, 

'My grace is sufficient for you, 

for my power is made perfect in weakness.'

 Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, 

so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 

That is why, for Christ’s sake, 

I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, 

in persecutions, in difficulties. 

For when I am weak, then I am strong.

I've meditated on this verse a lot over the last 18 months, because it reminds me that my children are not mine to heal. 

They belong to Jesus. 

They are His to heal. 

They are His to redeem. 

They are His to restore.

Yes, he has entrusted us with them - and the weight of that responsibility is not lost on me - but all we actually have to do is trust Him, and He will take care of the rest.

This time with our boys has been such a journey, and while we have been working to love on their little hearts, God has been working on ours. As much as our boys have changed and grown, Paul and I have changed and grown. We have been broken down and beat up, only to be rebuilt and restored in a way we never thought possible. 

So while we've been working hard to shepherd these little lives toward Christ, it's their presence that has redeemed our hearts. 

It's their fight that has renewed our voice. 

It's their trust that has strengthened ours.

Even though it feels like trauma won the day today, tomorrow is a new day, and we will continue on this path to healing and freedom. God has sustained us every step of the way, and today is no different. 

It's in moments like these when I remember the call He gave us for these fatherless children, and why saying YES was the best decision we ever made.

Tomorrow is another day, and I will never forget the promise of God over their lives and ours.

Isaiah 61:1-3 

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,

the oil of joy

instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

a planting of the Lord

for the display of his splendor.

Thank you for your continued prayers. Some days it really does take a village, and we are so thankful to have you by our sides.