Mediocrity

I haven't posted much about what is really happening in our lives.  It is too unbelievable and scarey to print. 
I yearn to give voice to my pain, for someone to hear and reply appropriately: without criticism, or question, and betrayal. 
Yep, I said it: BETRAYAL! 
How does it feel to be betrayed by people that you once reveared, and cherished as family?
I feel nothing. 
I am numb to the betrayal. 
Thankful in some ways that those who have chosen to betray me have done it sooner rather than later. 
At first, I was confused.  I wondered "Am I living in some paralell universe?  Am I a part in that movie Inception?  Am I really in some sort of deep coma and all of this is a story lying in a region of my brain and eventually I will awake to find that my life is blissfully whole?"
That is how betrayal feels when it comes at the cost of truth. 
When the children that I adopted began opening up to me about the horrific sexual, physical, and mental abuse that they suffered while living in the orphanage in Haiti I was shocked. 
The people responsible for them were considered friends to me, heros.
How could they betray my trust?
How could they betray my God?
I shake my head and sigh. 
I could not, would not stand by and pretend that it wasn't real.  I would hold them accountable.
I pursued justice, accountability, and transperancy for all of those responsible. 
In turn, I have learned a lot about human nature, the church, and myself.
People by nature would rather not face the ugly truth. 
They would rather move on, pretend it is not there, forgive and ultimately forget, sweep that ugly under the rug of mediocrity. 
No matter the cost. 
No matter the consequence down the road.
The church has become concerned with being popular, accepted, and reveared. 
It is no surprise to me. 
Not too much has changed  within the church personality since Jesus Christ walked this earth. 
The same issues of arrogance, piety, and lofty presentation still exist and willfully plague church leadership. 
It is no wonder that my generation and those following have become more and more distanced from the organized church. 
I once was held captive to fear.
Fear of man.
Fear of speaking, or believing contrary to the man of God.  After all, they were desigated by God to teach me...right? 
Oh my. 
What has become of the real men and women of God? 
The people of God who LIVE God in this shit hole world? 
Is it really that simple?? 

Introducing Lily!

Number five made her entrance into our lives in May 2011! 
She is a gift that is for sure! 
Let me linger here for a bit. 
Lily Jo Evans came a hefty 8.6lbs, sunny side up~!
The entire time that I was pregnant I kept asking God "Really?"  He knew what we would need to make it through.  He knew that we needed little Lily. 
She is a very joyful baby and the twinkle in my star! 
I am in love with her.

The breaking

I am feeling very lonely tonite. Missing peace, contentment, and joy. There have been so many battles going on in our lives. When I reflect on the last year the pictures that come to mind are documentary style photographs of men in arms behind bunkers in a full scale battle, bombs going off shots firing and panic. Most if the time these pictures aren't even in color. Many don't understand the level of fatigue that my husband and I have been existing in. I don't really try to talk about it with anybody anymore, nobody wants to hear that anyways. This is my blog, my thoughts, my chance to express it. I still have hope, and faith. Two very powerful perspectives. I can certainly relate to much of David's poetry in the Bible. His words have brought me comfort and given voice to my feelings when my words didn't seem adequate. How long oh God?? Though it seems like I would want to be the judge and jury, God has assured me that I would not wish for such a position. He knows the beginning and end, not me. He is confusing and great. He is a judge, full of mercy and compassion. He builds up and tears down. Father, there is no one who can do what what must be done, You hold all of our future within Your hands. I am nothing, You are all. You see my inside, my deepest secrets, my darkest thoughts, You know me inside and out. Who am I that You should even turn my way. Still I must ask for You, because You are all, there is no hope outside of you. You are the foundation of this faith. I am broken pottery, useless, and unfit. You are the master potter. Make me ready, use me God. Redeem what You will, shape me as You desire. Forgive my fighting, calm my fears. Let me know Your here, let me know that You see, You hear, You are present with me, and are for me. When all others have turned aside, please hold me close.

Chosen

I just heard Jason Upton sing Father to the Fatherless. Wow. His story is an incredible story of God's heart toward His children. Being adopted doesn't mean that you are loved less than, it means that you were chosen. I have been adopted into God's family. I am not Jewish, I didn't receive my birthright through my decendants, my birthright with God came through Jesus Christ making a way for me to be adopted into God's family. Jesus Christ made a way for me to be able to approach Father God. Wow. Chosen.

My Blog, My Thoughts...

This is my blog, so it is full of my thoughts, and my life. I am tired about being worried of what others will think, or if someone is going to try to use my words against me. This whole nightmare concerning my adopted children from Haiti, and the abuse that they have suffered has certainly taken it's toll on many parents who have suffered ridicule and scorn from others who don't understand. I am one of those parents. Hearing my children give details of the horrifying abuse that they endured while in the care of "missionaries" claiming to be a family was crushing. What can I do, how can I help them, how can I hold the people who did these things accountable for their actions? Just a number of thoughts that run through my mind constantly. I am a loving mother. I have never seen myself as someone who would struggle with hate until now. I have found myself hating the people who broke my baby girl, and humiliated my son. Forgiveness is so far out of range that for now it is only an idea that I know I must someday come face to face with.
Not only have these men devastated the lives of these precious children, but they go on denying it, implying that the children are lying. It is crazy to me that some have even said that all of these children are speaking out of some demonic possession due to the VooDoo culture that exists in Haiti! I can't believe that anybody in their right mind would actually believe something so ridiculous in exchange of facing the reality that perhaps the men who did these things were actually capable of something so horrendous.
It was difficult for me to wrap my mind around all of this when I first learned of each person involved.  I found it especially difficult to deal with concerning the one who I had called my friend and had considered like family. It was painful for me to realize that I never saw it over all of the years of our friendship. The complete betrayal, and violent attack on innocent children, my children... How could I process this? It is still difficult for me.
My pursuit for justice is all that I can offer my children. It will take God Himself to fix and heal my daughter and son. I am doing what any loving parent would do if their children were to come to them and share with them the things that my children have shared with me. It is ridiculous that I should feel like I have to defend myself, my actions, my motives. Yet I find myself doing just that.  I know it is because of the resistance that I have faced along the way from others who either don't believe these children, or they simply don't  know the truth.
Some might say "these things happened in Haiti, move on."  But "these things" have perverted and distorted the minds of my children.  It is impossible for them to simply move on. They need healing. My daughter didn't understand what a dad was until she came home, and she is still learning that just because someone calls themselves "Dad" doesn't mean that they represent what that means. A "Dad" doesn't rape and molest little girls! These men who abused so many children have debased the titles and very foundation of what family really is. So we have had to start from the very beginning, showing our children that a daddy loves his kids appropriately, a daddy snuggles his children safely and never violates that. A mom doesn't turn her eye to the needs of her children, or to the cries of her children... Not this mama. 
I have carried the frustration of not knowing what was happening down in Haiti at that "mission" when it was happening.  I have hated that I could do nothing to stop the abuse. I have said all along, since I have found out what had happened, that I may not have been able to stop what was happening, I may not have been able to protect my children then, but my children WILL KNOW that I have done EVERYTHING that I can to bring them justice and set things right! They will look back when they are adults and say "my mom heard me, she believed me, and she fought as hard as she could for me". In the end that is what matters most to me.

Lily

I am nearly in my last trimester of pregnancy. This time around has been very different from the last two pregnancies. I have not had much time to focus on my baby or myself. On the one hand it is good because I have been so busy that time has flown, on the other hand I have really neglected my health and have suffered the consequences. This is my first baby girl. I have just recently begun purchasing some things for her. Shopping for a baby girl is soooo much more fun than shopping for a baby boy! Tutu's, headbands, dresses, floral prints!!! I am excited for her arrival. I wonder if she will look like me, or if she will favor one of her brothers. Will she have hair, what color will her eyes be, will she have her daddies feet? This is my happy place in the midst of the storms of my life. God knew what He was doing giving me something so wonderful to look forward to.

Patience

Patience isn't only a lesson in my life, it is the theme and steady rhythm. My mom used to tell me often that I lacked patience. I smile. I have found that to be true, as much as I hate to admit such a weakness. Funny, God has a way of creating circumstances to work stuff like that in you even when you resist. Mom is right, she usually is. Not only has patience been my weakness but double that with the spit-fire spirit that God made me with and often times it can turn into something quite unsavory. My heart is tender, my intentions true, but the delivery..... Sigh...
Patience...