You Aren't Good Enough

 

"You aren't good enough." We've all heard those words, haven't we? Rarely ever in verbal form, but echoing through our minds as the day wears on. Here's what's incredible. Last week I shared Isabella's story and over a thousand people read it. It's probably nothing in the terms of social media, but to me, that her story can touch the lives of more than a thousand people is amazing. The comments and reactions went straight to our hearts.
Since Bella's adoption and since adding another 1 year old to our family we've gotten so many comments about how great we are, even to be called saints and told how lucky the kids are to have us. I have a confession: when I hear those things I cringe a little.
The words sting. I am not a saint. I am not great. To be viewed that way feels insincere and I fight the urge to correct the speaker.
The truth is, there are many days, if not most, that I'm quite sure I have appropriately earned the Worst Mother of the Year Award every year since 2011. Most days, I end the day laying my head on the pillow re-playing the numerous scenes from the day I completely messed up and severely regret. How many times did I raise my voice today? How many times was I impatient? How often did I just fail to see what they were really needing? You don't see my temper lost, my worst self, but I do. I know all my failings and in case I forget the devil is sure to whisper them to me at every opportunity.
"You're not good enough to be a parent. These kids deserve someone better. Why are you taking more children when you are not parenting the ones you have well? Other parents never yell. Other parents do a much better job with discipline and teaching...."I could really go on for hours with the criticisms I have about myself. They're not all just about parenting, there's a long list about the wife I am and my roles in ministry within the church. The devil can be so convincing, and has often made me question if I should be doing what I am doing.
He is right. I am not good enough. I'm am not a good enough wife or mother or friend or youth minister or .....
BUT God thinks I am. He doesn't just think it, He knows it. He called me to this work, to be this man's wife, to be these children's mother, to be in the lives of these specific people. It wasn't by accident that I stumbled upon them. I've heard it said that the devil knows our name but calls us by our sins, God knows our sins but calls us by our name.
All we have to do is pick any character from the bible and we will find the least obvious choice, the most flawed, the most unqualified for the job, and we see that is who God selects. He doesn't focus on their failings but their potential. This lent especially I was reflecting on the donkey that carried Jesus into Jerusalem as the crowds worshipped and laid palm branches at his feet. He was a colt, untrained, never been ridden, too small. Probably the least qualified donkey in town. There was nothing special about him, and very few probably ever noticed him or his qualities or flaws. But He brought Jesus to a lot of people. He played an essential, but not noticeable role in a very important part of the story of salvation.
Don't hear me saying that the sins I struggle with are ok. I have a lot of work to do, I need the grace of forgiveness and the help of the holy spirit to overcome them. I know I want and need to be a better mom to these incredible children who deserve only the best. But do hear me say that if you're waiting to be perfect to share the gospel, then it will never be shared. None of us is good enough, but we are asked to try, to go where we are led and bring Jesus to people in our imperfect way that He makes perfect.
I tried something different tonight, when I was re-hashing the terrible moments of the day I happened to be clicking through photos I had recently uploaded to the computer. You know what, the photos told a very different story than my recollection did. Those really were genuine smiles and laughs on my computer screen. They really do a lot of fun things and enjoy life. One that I happened upon was my tiny farmer Samuel who grabbed the pail when we were outside and said "I feed cows mommy!"

He went right to get the grain just like he's seen his Dad do. Since he was willing, I helped him put a little grain in his pail and he proudly headed toward the cows who were quick to line up at the sound of the grain in the bucket. He looked so small heading towards those big, hungry animals. It took all of his strength to carry that bucket that was 1/20th full of grain.

He did it all by himself and came back for a second bucket. That time, it was a little more full and he turned back afraid maybe he had taken on a job he couldn't handle. So I came close, walked beside him, and helped him carry and dump it.  The cows were happy. I could have done it myself 20 times faster, but the joy that He and I both got because he did it was the goal. 
I suppose the lesson He's trying to teach me is that it really isn't all on my shoulders as it weighs heavy each night. He enjoys letting me help, but he'll gladly carry the load when it gets too heavy.


Thank You God for believing in me, even when I give you so many reasons not to, even when I don't feel good enough, because this really is a lot of fun, and it's really nice to be included in your work.

Introducing Isabella Marie Full

Sometimes....maybe most of the time....our prayers are answered in ways we never expect.


2 years ago in January a baby girl was born 10 weeks early in a hotel weighing 3 lbs 4 oz. Somehow (I think we all know how), she survived. She was placed into custody of child protective services, a social worker overseeing her medical care, nurses and doctors coming and going, but no mother to hold or care for her. Then, doctors discovered she had down syndrome. So far, its safe to say it was a difficult start to life. She overcame each health challenge and complication, slowly but steadily, sometimes with setbacks, but she slowly grew and got stronger.


We learned about her birth and began to pray. She is a biological sibling to our son Nathaniel, which made her feel like our daughter. I heard that she was tiny and clinging to life and alone in the hospital and I wanted nothing more than to race down there and hold her in my arms. But I know "the system" and it doesn't work like that. So we waited. And prayed. And waited. And almost went crazy thinking about her lying there alone. I didn't even know her name. That's when I prayed: "She needs a mother. If I cannot be there for her, Mary, please be her mother. Let her feel your peace and comfort." And I clung to that prayer that Mary would provide the comfort of a mother that I could not.


We soon found out she had been given a foster family from Sioux Falls who visited her often and loved her a lot. It was a relief to know she was being loved.

 

Finally, we got to meet her in May, still in the NICU.

It was love at first sight. Laying her back down in a hospital crib at the end of the visit and walking away though was not a feeling I ever want to have again.

Then we continued to wait, for paperwork that took MONTHS longer than it was supposed to. Nathaniel got to meet her a little later, still waiting...

Finally, in July she came to our house for her first visit, and permanently in August.

 

 *Ashley Stoel Photography & Design

We spent the next year in custody limbo and then prepared for her to return home to her biological parents but they decided after some visits to allow us to adopt her instead. (Thank you St. Therese!)

I didn't set out to adopt a child with down syndrome. Actually, a child with high medical needs was on our list of "probably cannot accommodate" for foster care. But God began to work on our hearts, and by the time it was our decision we knew He had already made it. She was our daughter.

On March 20 after 2 years of waiting, we finally got to hear the judge say that she would be "our own lawful child".  My sister-in-law gifted us with a beautiful lamp with her name and the phrase "For this child I prayed". It is beautiful, but when I put it up in her room, I lingered on that phrase. "Did I pray for her?" I wondered. Of course after I knew about her, but before she was born? I remember that I prayed for 4 years for Nathaniel, and for 3 years for Samuel, but Samuel had just been 5 months old when this little girl was born, I was wanting to expand our family but probably not so immediately. And I know I didn't pray for a daughter with down syndrome. But the more and more I looked at it I realize I prayed for her for a long time too, I just didn't realize it.

I prayed for patience, and she teaches me and stretches me in that way every day. I prayed for compassion and she requires it. I prayed to better understand the heart of Jesus, and she shows me. I prayed for my children to make a difference in the world, and she already has.
Tonight I read the book "You're Here for a Reason" by Nancy Tillman to my children. Please buy a copy for your kids or someone you love, because the words are so incredibly true: 
"You're here for a reason, you certainly are. The world would be different without you, by far. If not for your hands and your eyes and your feet, the world, like a puzzle, would be incomplete. Even the smallest of things that you do, blossom and multiply far beyond you."
The day after Isabella's adoption was World Down Syndrome Awareness Day.  There was a statistic shared that day that I cannot shake from my mind. The post was titled: "The most dangerous place in the world for a child with down syndrome is his mother's womb." It shared that 92% of babies with down syndrome are aborted and never allowed to live. When I look at my daughters beautiful face, that statistic rattles me. My heart grieves for those mothers that will never receive the gift that was meant for them. I hurt for the world that is different and missing an important part. Most of all, I hurt because it's like the majority of the world is saying Isabella is not a person, and how mistaken they are! She is sweet and so lovingly blows kisses and wipes the faces of her dolls like the most gentle mother. She is wild and crazy when wrestling and chasing her brothers. And she has attitude and makes sure we know it when she wants to get her way. She is the same as all of my children, life (just like it started for her) is just harder.

Over the past two years Bella has worked with Physical, Occupational and Speech Therapists. Low muscle tone from down syndrome makes it much harder to do things like roll over, crawl, sit up, walk, etc. Children with down syndrome have shorter limbs which makes a lot of things more difficult, especially climbing stairs. Speech and eating are difficult because of low muscle tone in the mouth and tongue. Often people with down syndrome understand so much more than they can communicate. Therapists work with us to give her the extra help she needs to do all those things.

I have watched Bella face incredible challenges. Everything for her in life is harder. We, especially as parents, instinctively want to decrease someone's struggle. We don't want things to be so hard. I can see how someone faces this diagnoses in their child and looks for a way out for their child. But I wish you all could see the joy in my daughters face each time she does something she's been trying for such a long time to do. I wish you could see that the things that are difficult are always the best things. Isn't it interesting that the people who life is "the hardest" for seem to be the ones who also smile the most? It's not coincidence.

I'm not a perfect mom and it isn't easy parenting Bella. She needs extra patience, consistency, and a lot of time, and I come up short on all of those things most days. I would never call it easy... but I always call it a blessing.

"You're here for a reason. If you think you're not, I would just say that perhaps you forgot - a piece of the world that is precious and dear, would surely be missing if you weren't here. If not for your smile and your laugh and your heart, this place we call home would be minus a part. Thank goodness you're here! Thank goodness times two! I just can't imagine a world without you." - Nancy Tillman